mm 


3m 


mm 


AMERICAN  PROGRESS 


THE  GREAT  EVENTS 


HE GREATEST CENTURY, 


INCLUDING    ALSO 


LIFE  DELINEATIONS  OF  OUR  MOST  NOTED  MEN. 


"They  love  their  land  because  it  is  their  own, 
And  scorn  to  give  aught  other  reason  why." — HALLECK. 


BY    HON.    R.    M.    DEVENS, 

OF    MASSACHUSETTS. 


ILLUSTRATED  WITH  OVER  THREE  HUNDRED  ENGRAVINGS. 


PUBLISHED    BY 

C.  A.  NICHOLS  &  COMPANY,  SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 


HERBERT  S.  RKED,  TOPEKA,  KAN. 
1890. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1877,  by 

C    A.  NICHOLS  &  CO. 
In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


C1UMPTON  ACCESSION 
MMCffOFT  LJBRAB 


"A  nation's  character  is  the  sum  of  its  splendid  deeds."— HENBY  CLAY. 

LORIOUS  beyond  historic  parallel  have  been  the  achievements 
of  our  national  career.  To  worthily  record  them  is  the  schol- 
ar's pride.  To  be  familiar  with  them  is  the  patriot's 
duty  and  delight.  In  presenting  this  new  work  the  publish- 
er's aim  is  to  supply  the  demand  for  a  unique  portrayal  of  a 
great  and  eventful  century. 

As  the  course  of  a  distant  mountain  chain  is  indicated  by  those  lofty  peaks  which 
rise  to  meet  the  sun,  so  a  people's  social  tendency  and  political  and  scientific  advance- 
ment are  revealed  in  those  extraordinary  names  and  deeds  which  rise  into 
the  light  of  immortality. 

Michael  Angelo  wrought  into  nine  most  wonderful  frescoes  on  the  ceiling  of  the 
Sistine  Chapel  all  the  memorable  events  of  the  world's  first  thousand  years.  No  pen 
is  more  charming  and  educational  than  that  which,  like  the  Florentine's  pencil,  throws 
all  the  greatness  of  a  wonderful  past  into  a  series  of  glowing  pictures. 
This  has  been  our  author's  endeavor.  The  result  is  a  gallery  of  historical  frescoes 
in  which  may  be  seen  all  those  splendid  deeds  and  mighty  men  that  have  made  up 
our  greatness. 

Our  national  progress  has  been  most  exciting  and  dramatic.  What  struggles 
and  triumphs,  what  discoveries  and  inventions,  what  disasters  and  reforms, 
what  tragedies  and  comedies,  have  characterized  the  greatest  century  since 


-• 


8 


DEDICATION. 


the  world  began !  Be  this  our  native  or  adopted  land,  while  we  glory  in  our 
American  citizenship  we  cannot  become  forgetful  of  those  supreme  characters  and 
superb  achievements  which  "constitute  our  common  patrimony — the  nation's  in- 
heritance." 

The  page  which  reflects  the  glory  of  our  past  must  be  bright  and  entertaining. 
The  author  believes  that  the  proper  narration  of  events  is  not  only  more  in- 
structive but  also  more  fascinating  than  romance.  The  work  is  not  a  mere 
history.  It  contains  no  tedious  details  of  commonplace  occurrences,  but  graphic 
descriptions  of  everything  notable, — the  cream  of  history.  The  needs  of  all 
classes  of  readers  have  been  consulted.  Our  American  youth,  our  intelligent  farm- 
ers and  artisans,  our  business  and  professional  men  of  the  land,  who  need  books 
that  are  full  of  the  most  interesting  and  useful  material  for  reference,  illustra- 
tion, entertainment,  and  instruction,  will  find  the  present  volume  adapted  to 
their  wants.  It  is  not  dry,  like  an  encyclopedia,  but  in  the  fullest  sense  stimu- 
lating, romantic,  true, — to  charm  while  it  informs  the  mind.  Dryness  is  not  a 
proof  of  accuracy.  The  clearer  and  more  vivid  a  picture  the  more  faithful  it  may 
be  to  reality.  An  elevated  and  spirited  style  of  composition  is  in  harmony  with 
splendid  truths  and  facts. 

Eleven  laborious  years  have  been  devoted  to  the  preparation  of  the 
volume,  and  the  publisher  makes  no  apology  for  saying  that  the  author  has 
brought  to  his  work  experience,  scholarship,  and  literary  taste  of  the  highest 
order.  He  has  obtained  rare  and  valuable  information  hitherto  inaccessible. 
State  and  national  archives,  libraries  and  museums,  private  diaries  and  journals 
of  public  men,  have  been  laid  under  contribution.  From  eye  witnesses  and  partici- 
pants iu  thrilling  scenes  have  been  secured  interesting  facts  never  before  in  print. 
The  book  may  be  relied  upon  as  authority  on  the  subjects  of  which  it  treats. 

Over  twelve  thousand  dollars  has  been  expended  in  illustrating  the  work. 

Art  is  a  charming  instructor — it  teaches  while  it  entertains.  The  philosophy  of  a 
great  life  may  be  revealed  in  a  portrait.  A  single  engraving  may  convey  a  clearer 
idea  of  a  subject  than  a  whole  chapter  of  words. 

The  true  value  of  a  book  is  not  commercial,  but  intellectual.  Fenelon  said,  "  If 
the  crowns  of  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  were  laid  down  at  my  feet  in  exchange 
for  my  books  and  my  love  of  reading,  I  would  spurn  them  all."  Our  hands  must 
toll  for  our  brains  and  hearts.  Rich  is  the  possessor  of  a  good  book.  Our  own 
rare  Emerson  said,  "In  the  highest  civilization  the  book  is  still  the  highest 
delight."  That  volume  in  which  the  great  events  of  our  own  nation's  existence  are 
mirrored  with  all  the  colors  of  reality  must  challenge  the  attention  of  thoughtful 
men. 

To  our  American  citizens— Liberty's  nobility — the  publisher  has  the  honor 
to  dedicate  this  work,  believing,  with  Goldsmith,  that  "in  proportion  as  society 
refines,  new  books  must  ever  become  more  necessary-" 

THE  PUBLISHER. 


i. 

MOMENTOUS  POLITICAL  EVENTS  OF  ABSORBING  INTEREST. 

BIRTH  OF  THE  NATION.— The  Grandest  Modern  Event.— The  Gauntlet  of  Defiance  thrown  1TT6 
at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Realm  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. — The  whole  World  looks  on  Aston- 
ished.— Patrick  Henry's  Burning  Eloquence. — Excitement  of  the  King  and  Court. — Lord  Chatham's 
Scorching  Speech. — Struck  Dead  while  Speaking. — Seven  Years'  Struggle. — England  Gives  Up  the 
Contest,  and  the  World  Welcomes  the  New  Nation 25 

APPOINTMENT  OF  OUR  FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND.— John  Adams,  the  Foremost  1785 
Enemy  of  British  Tyranny,  Fills  this  High  Office. — What  His  Mission   Involved. — All  Europe 
Watches  the  Event. — Interview  between  Him  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign. — Their  Ad- 
dresses, Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Humorous  Conversation. — Results  of  this  Embassy.     .      70 

FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTITUTION.— Plan  of  Govern-  nw 
raent  to  be  Framed. — Statesmen  and  Sages  in  Council. — Dignity,  Learning,  and  Eloquence  of  the 
Delegates. — Various  Schemes  Discussed. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats. — Franklin's  Impress- 
ive Appeal. — Patriotism  Rules  all  Hearts. — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — The  United 
States  no  Longer  a  People  Without  a  Government 77 

FIRST    ELECTION  AND    INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT  OF  THE    UNITED  "89 

STATES. — Washington,  the  Nation's  Spontaneous,  Unanimous  Choice. — His  Farewell  Visit  to  His 
Mother. — His  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  and  Solemn  Induction  into  Office. — Order  of  Cere- 
monies.— Elegant  Appearance  and  Dignity  when  Taking  the  Oath. — Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible. 
— Distinguished  Celebrities  Present. — Jubilee  throughout  the  Republic,  over  the  August  Event  84 

FOUNDING  AND  ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL.— Named  in  Honor  1799 
of  Washington. — Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "Compromise  "  in  Con- 
gress between  the  North  and  the  South. — Final  Removal  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to 
Washington.— Official  Observance  of  the  Event. — Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  the  City. — Splendor 
of  its  Public  Buildings 112 


10  CONTENTS. 

PASSAGE  OF  BENTON'S  FAMOUS  "EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION,"  IN  THE  UNITED  »«37 

STATES  SENATE. — Opposition  to  the  United  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  Against  it. — Con- 
gress Grants  a  Charter,  and  Jackson  Vetoes  the  Bill,  Denounces  the  Bank,  and  Orders  the  United 
States  Funds  Removed. — Secretary  Duane  Declines  to  Act,  but  Taney  Succeeds  him  and  Obeys. — 
Fierce  Conflict  in  Congress. — Weeks  of  Strong  Debate. — Resolution  to  Censure  Jackson  Passed. — 
Benton's  Motion  to  Expunge. — He  Follows  it  up  Unceasingly,  and  Triumphs  after  Three  Years' 
Parliamentary  Struggle 268 

PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,  AS  A  WAR  MEASURE,  BY  PRESIDENT  18» 
LINCOLN. — More  than  Three  Millions,  in  Bondage  at  the  South,  Declared  Forever  Free. — Most 
Important  American  State  Paper  Since  July  Fourth,  1776. — Pronounced,  by  the  President,  "  The 
Great  Event  of  the  Nineteenth  Century." — The  Whole  System  of  Slavery  Finally  Swept  from  the 
Republic,  by  Victories  in  the  Field  and  by  Constitutional  Amendment. — Public  Reception  of  the 
Proclamation.-  Promulgation  at  the  South.— Scenes  of  Joy  Among  the  Freedmen. — Enfranchise- 
ment Added  to  Freedom H4 

II. 
BATTLES,  SIEGES,  AND  BRILLIANT  NAVAL  ENGAGEMENTS. 

CORNWALLIS  SURRENDERS  HIS  SPLENDID  ARMY  TO  GENERAL  WASHINGTON.  H" 
— Final  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. — Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of 
King  George. — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and   Pitt.— They  Demand   that  the  War  Cease. — The 
Voice  of  Parliament. — Last  Act  in  the  Military  Drama. — Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere 
Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  Their  Deliverer 65 

ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON.— Record  of  His  Generalship.— Scheme  to  make  1783 
Him  King. — Indignantly  Rebukes  the  Proposal. — Last  Review  of  His  Troops. — Affecting  Interview 
and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in-Arms. — Solemn   Farewell 
Audience  with  Congress. — He  Voluntarily  Divests  Himself  of  His  Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His 
Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private  Citizen. — Rare  Event  in  Human  History 64 

DECISIVE   BATTLES   WITH  THE   INDIANS.— Headlong  Flight  and  Destruction  of  St.  1791 
Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  Before  the  Trained  Warriors  of  "Little  Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster 
Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Triumph,  in  1794. — Final  and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jack- 
son, in  1814.— The  Question  of  Power  Between  the  Two  Races  Forever  Settled  in  Favor  of  the 
Whites 91 

THE  FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION  IN  PENNSYLVANIA.— Violent  Resistance  H?4 
to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory  Appeals. — Officials  and 
Loyal  Citizen*  Whipped,  Branded,  Tarred,  and  Feathered. — Intense  Excitement  in  all  the  States. — 
Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an  Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. — Precipi- 
tate Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels 10» 

GENERAL  JACKSON'S  TERRIBLE  ROUT  AND  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  BRITISH  H«5 
ARMY,  AT  NEW  ORLEANS.— British  Invasion  of  Louisiana. — Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans. 
— His  Consummate  Generalship  in  the  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign  — The  War  with  England 
Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  the  American  Arms  — Jackson  is  Hailed  as  One 
of  the  Greatest  of  Modern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior  of  His  Country. — 
National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle 171 

GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS,  AS  THE  CONQUEROR  nr 
OF  MEXICO  —Irritation  between  the  United  States  and  Mexico.— Points  of  Boundary.— Mexico 
Refuses  to  Yield.— Declaration  of  War  by  Congress  —Scott's  Order,  "  On  to  Mexico  ! "—  Doniphan's 
March  of  Five  Thousand  Miles. — General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Series  of  Victorious  Battles,  from  Palo 
Alto  to  Buena  Vista.— Flight  of  Santa  Anna  in  the  Dead  of  Midnight  —The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float 
Triumphantly  from  the  Towers  of  the  National  Palace  —First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the 
United  States  Army S47 


CONTENTS. 

BOMBARDMENT  AND  REDUCTION  OF  FORT  SUMTER.— Inauguration  of  Civil  War  in  «« 
the  United  States. — First  Military  Act  in  the  Long  and  Bloody  Struggle  to  Dismember  the  Union. 
— Organization  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. — President  Lincoln's  Proclamation  for  75,000  Volun- 
teers.— Spontaneous  Uprising  of  the  Loyal  People. — Calling  the  Battle-Roll  of  the  Republic. — Su- 
preme Crisis  in  the  Fate  of  the  Nation. — Northern  and  Southern  Variances  — Slavery  the  Cause  of 
Contention. — Culmination  of  the  Antagonism. — Disunion  Banner  of  the  South. — Secession  of  Sev- 
eral States — War  Wager  Boldly  Staked. — Vaiu  Efforts  at  Reconciliation. — Federal  Property  Seized 
at  the  South. — Batteries  Erected  at  Charleston. — Fort  Sumter  Closely  Besieged. — Beauregard  De- 
mands its  Surrender. — Major  Anderson's  Flat  Refusal  — Weakness  of  his  Garrison. — Attempts  to 
Re-enforce  It. — Prevented  by  Confederate  Batteries. — All  Eyes  Riveted  on  the  Fort. — Opening  of 
the  Attack,  April  Fourteenth. — Incessant  and  Tremendous  Fire. — Terms  of  Evacuation  Accepted. — 
Southern  Rejoicings. — The  Great  Military  Outlook  — Washington  the  National  Key.  .  .  .  502 

BATTLE  AT  BULL  RUN,  VA.,  BETWEEN  THE  FEDERAL  ARMY  AND  THAT  OF  IMl 
THE  SOUTHERN  CONFEDERACY.— Three  Months  Since  Sumter  Fell  — " On  to  Richmond!" 
the  Uuion  War-Cry. — Severe  Fighting  for  Many  Hours. — March  of  McDowell's  Army,  and  Plan  of 
the  Movement  — Re-enforcements  for  the  Confederates  — Davis's  Arrival  on  the  Ground. — He  Ex- 
claims, "  Onward,  My  Brave  Comrades  !  " — Their  Wild  Enthusiasm  — Most  Disastrous  Defeat  of  the 
Federal  Troops. — Their  Uncontrollable  Panic  and  Headlong  Flight  — First  Important  Engagement 
in  the  Great  Civil  War. — Lessons  Taught  by  this  Battle 517 

BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MARYLAND.— Bloodiest  Day  That  America  Ever  Saw.— Nearly  IM* 
One  Hundred  Thousand  Men  on  Each  Side. — General  McClellau  Declares  on  the  Field  that  it  ii 
"  the  Battle  of  the  War." — Four  Miles  and  Fourteen  Hours  of  Fighting  and  Slaughter. — The  Shock 
and  "  Glory  "  of  War  on  a  Colossal  Scale. — Obstinate  Bravery  of  the  Contending  Foes. — Some  of  the 
Regiments  Almost  Annihilated. — The  Union  Troops  Hold  the  Disputed  Ground  and  Drive  the  En- 
«my  en  Masse  — The  After-Scene  of  Horror 535 

CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG,  "  THE  GIBRALTAR  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI,"  »?? 
BY  THE  UNION  FORCES.— The  Genius,  Valor,  and  Resources  of  Both  Armies  Tasked  to  Their 
Utmost  — Final  Capitulation  of  the  City  by  General  Pemberton,  After  a  Prolonged  and  Brilliant 
Siege  — Heaviest  Blow  Yet  Dealt  the  Secession  Cause. — General  McPherson  Receives  the  Formal 
Surrender. — 37,000  Prisoners,  Fifteen  Generals,  Arms  and  Munitions  for  60,000  Men,  the  Trophies. 
— Geographical  Importance  of  Vicksburg. — Its  Commanding  Fortifications. — Farragut's  Naval  Siege 
Powerless. — Sherman's  Attack  Repulsed. — Grant  Assumes  Active  Command  — Vigorous  Operations 
Undertaken. — His  Series  of  Victorious  Battles. — Futile  Attempt  to  Storm  Vicksburg. — Hours  of 
Terrific  Cannonading. — A  Systematic  Siege  Begun. — Thorough  Investment  at  all  Points. — Federal 
Sapping  and  Mining  — They  Mine  and  Blow  up  Fort  Hill. — Awful  Spectacle  of  Blood  and  Ruin. — 
Deadly  Struggle  for  a  Foothold. — Success  of  the  Forty-fifth  Illinois. — Their  Colors  Surmount  the 
Work. — Pemberton  Sends  a  Flag  of  Truce  — His  Interview  with  Grant. — Grant's  Terms  :  "  Uncon- 
ditional Surrender." — The.  Victors  Enter  the  City,  July  Fourth. — Curious  Reminiscences.  .  .  554 

THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE  BETWEEN  THE  CONCENTRATED  ARMIES  OF  GENER-  1868 
ALS  MEADE  AND  LEE,  AT  GETTYSBURG,  PA.— Overwhelming  Invasion  of  Pennsylvania 
by  th«  Confederate  Forces.— The  Union  Army  Drives  Them  with  Great  Slaughter  Across  the  Poto- 
mac.— Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Transfer  the  Seat  of  War  from  Virginia  to  Northern  Soil  — One  of 
the  Most  Decisive  and  Important  Federal  Victories  in  the  Great  American  Civil  Conflict.— Lee's 
Army  Impatient  to  go  North. — Order  of  March  at  Last. — Consternation  in  the  Border  States. — Call 
for  One  Hundred  Thousand  More  Men.— Advance  of  Meade's  Army.— Face  to  Face  with  the  Foe. — 
Engagement  between  the  Vanguards. — Terrific  Artillery  Contests  — Movements  and  Counter  Move- 
ments.— Severe  Reverses  on  Both  Sides.— Carnage  at  Cemetery  Hill. — Longstreet's  Furious  Onset. 
—Most  Destructive  Cannonade.— Gettysburg  a  Vast  Hospital.— Crawford's  Grand  Charge.— Stand- 
ing by  the  Batteries !— Hand-to-Hand  Conflict.— Following  the  Battle-Flag.— Deadly  and  Impetuous 
Fighting.— Forty-one  Confederate  Standards  Taken.— Unbounded  Joy  of  the  Victors.— President 
Lincoln's  Announcement 563 

GRAND  MARCH  OF  THE  UNION  ARMY,  UNDER  GENERAL  SHERMAN,  THROUGH  W« 
THE  HEART  OF  THE  SOUTH.— Generals  and  Armies  Baffled  :  States  and  Cities  Conquered.— 
— Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  any  Age  or  Country. — Great  Closing  Act  in  the  Cam- 
paign.— Sherman'?  Qualities  as  a  Commander. — Hia  Own  Story  of  his  Success. — A  Brilliant  Cam- 


12  CONTENTS. 

paigu  Planned. — Atlanta,  Ga.,  the  First  Great  Prize. — Destroys  that  City :  Starts  for  the  Coast.— 
Subsists  His  Men  on  the  Enemy's  Country. — Savannah's  Doom  Sealed.— Fall  of  Fort  McAllister.— 
Christmas  Gift  to  the  President. — Advance  into  South  Carolina. — The  Stars  and  Stripes  in  Her  Cap- 
ital.— Battles  Fought :  Onward  to  Raleigh. — Johnson's  Whole  Army  Bagged. — Sherman  Described 
Personally 598 

FALL  OF  RICHMOND,  VA.,  THE  CONFEDERATE  CAPITAL.— The  Entrenched  City  was 
Closely  Encompassed  for  Mouths  by  General  Grant's  Brave  Legions  and  Walls  of  Steel. — Flight  of 
Jefferson  Davis,  and  Surrender  of  General  Lee's  Army. — Overthrow  of  the  Four  Years'  Gigantic 
Rebellion. — The  JEgis  and  Starry  Ensigns  of  the  Republic  Everywhere  Dominant. — Transports  of 
Joy  Fill  the  Laud. — A  Nation's  Laurels  Crown  the  Head  of  the  Conqueror  of  Peace.  —  Memorable 
Day  in  Human  Affairs. — Momentous  Issues  Involved. — Heavy  Cost  of  this  Triumph. — Without  It,  a 
Lost  Republic. — Uuequaled  Valor  Displayed. — Sherman's  Grand  Conceptions. — Sheridan's  Splendid 
Generalship. — Onward  March  of  Events — Strategy,  Battles,  Victories. — Lee's  Lines  Fatallv  Broken. 
— Approach  of  the  Final  Crisis.  Richmond  Evacuated  by  Night. — Retreat  of  Lee  :  Vigorous  Pur- 
luit. — His  Hopeless  Resistance  to  Grant. — Their  Correspondence  and  Interview. — The  Two  Great 
Generals  Face  to  Face. — What  was  Said  and  Done. — Announcing  the  Result. — Parting  of  Lee  with 
His  Soldiers. — President  Lincoln's  Visit  to  Richmond. — Raising  the  Uuited  States  Flag  at  Fort  Sum- 
ter. — Davis  a  Prisoner  in  Fortress  Monroe 607 

OUR  FIRST  VICTORY  ON  THE  SEA.— John  Paul  Jones  Fights  and  Captures  the  English  mg 
Ship-of  War,  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  Coast. — The  Most  Sangui- 
nary Battle  Ever  Fought  Between  Single  Ships. — Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — Jones  is  Hailed 
as  "  The  Washington  of  the  Sea." — World-wide  Interest  of  this  Combat 32 

AMERICA  AND  ENGLAND  MATCHED  AGAINST  EACH  OTHER  FOR  THE  FIRST  »» 
TIME  IN  A  SQUADRON  FIGHT.— Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter.— Sixteen  Vessels  En- 
gaged — The  British,  under  Captain  Barclay,  one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Su- 
perior Force,  are  Thoroughly  Beaten  by  the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry. — Every 
British  Vessel  Captured. — General  Harrison  Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Laud. — American 
Prowess  Invincible 103 

EXTRAORDINARY  COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  IRON-CLADS  MERRIMAC  AND  MON-  1562 
ITOR,  IN  HAMPTON  ROADS.— Sudden  Appearance  of  the  Merrimac  Among  the  Federal  Frig- 
ates.— Their  Swift  and  Terrible  Destruction  by  Her  Steel  Prow. — Unexpected  Arrival  of  the  "Lit 
tie  Monitor  "  at  the  Scene  of  Action  — She  Engages  and  Disables  the  Monster  Craft  in  a  Four  Hours' 
Fight. — Total  Revolution  in  Naval  Warfare  the  World  Over  by  this  Remarkable  Contest. — How  the 
Merrimac  Changed  Hands. — Burned  and  Sunk  at  Norfolk,  Va — Her  Hull  Raised  by  the  Confeder- 
ates.— She  is  Iron  Roofed  and  Plated. — Proof  Against  Shot  and  Shell. — A  Powerful  Steel  Beak  in 
Her  Prow. — Most  Formidable  Vessel  Afloat  — In  Command  of  Commodore  Buchanan  — Departs 
from  Norfolk,  March  Eighth — Pierces  and  Sinks  the  Cumberland. — Next  Attacks  the  Congress. — 
The  Noble  Frigate  Destroyed  — Fight  Begun  with  the  Minnesota  — Suspended  at  Nightfall  — Trip 
of  the  Monitor  from  New  York. — Her  New  and  Singular  Build  — Lieutenant  Worden  Hears  of  the 
Battles  — Resolves  to  Grapple  with  the  Monster  — The  Two  Together  Next  Day  — A  Scene  Never 
to  be  Forgotten. — Worden  Turns  the  Tide  of  Fortune. — Repulse  and  Retreat  of  the  Merrimac.  52S 

COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA,  CAPTAIN  SEMMES,  AND  THE  REAR-  1864 
SARGE,  CAPTAIN  WINSLOW,  OFF  CHERBOURG.— The  Alabama  is  Sunk  after  an  Hour's 
Engagement,  in  Sight  of  the  Two  Great  Maritime  Powers  of  Europe. — Semmes  Throws  His  Sword 
Away,  Jumps  Overboard,  and  Escapes. — Relative  Equality,  in  Size  and  Armament,  of  the  Two  Ves- 
sels— The  Previous  Destructive  Career  of  .the  Alabama  Against  Northern  Commerce. — Causeless 
Raid  on  Marine  Property  — Fault  in  the  Law  of  Nations  —British  Origin  of  the  Alabama  — Her  Un- 
mistakable Character. — Peculiar  Model  and  Equipment. — Adapted  to  Destroy,  Fight,  or  Run  — 
Adroit  Shipment  of  Stores  and  Guns  — Ready  for  a  Start  — All  Hands  Mustered  Aft. — Semmes 
Reads  Aloud  His  Commission  — Cheers  for  Davis,  Semmes,  Etc — Salute  Fired  :  Hoisting  the  Flag. 
— A  Long  Cruise :  Terrible  Ravages  — Puts  in  at  Cherbourg,  France  — The  United  States  Ship 
Kearsarge  on  His  Track  — Semmes  Boldly  Offers  to  Fight  — Preliminary  Maneuvers  of  the  Ships  — 
Seven  Circles  Round  Each  Other. — Semmes's  Rapid  and  Furious  Fire. — Superior  Gunnery  of  the 
Kearsarge. — Its  Fatal  Effect  on  the  Alabama. — Incidents  of  this  Renowned  Fight.  .  .  .  5il 


CONTENTS.  13 

ADMIRAL  FARRAGUTS  ACHIEVEMENTS  IN  1862  AND  IN  1864;  AND  ADMIRAL  ^* 
PORTER'S  IN  1865. — Fierce  and  Sanguinary  Contest  between  the  Admiral's  Flagship,  »nd 
Admiral  Buchanan's  Monster  Ram. — The  Latter  1'roves  Herself,  for  a  Time,  a  Match  for  the  Whole 
Union  Fleet. — Farragut's  Overwhelming  Victory. — Farragnt  Pressed  to  Join  the  South. — His 
Unswerving  Fidelity  to  the  Old  Flag. — High  Trust  Committed  to  Him. — Sailing  of  His  Fleet. — 
Bold  and  Successful  Plan  of  Battle. — Admiral  Porter's  Services.— New  Orleans  Again  Under  the 
United  States  Flag. — Forts,  Rams,  Ironclads,  etc.,  to  Fight. — Powerful  Build  of  the  Tennessee. — 
Makes  for  Her  Antagonist  at  Full  Speed. — Farragut's  Masterly  Maneuvers. — Unexpected  Feature 
in  His  Tactics.— Deadly  Contact  of  the  Various  Craft.— The  "  Glory "  and  Horrors  of  War. — 
Stubborn  Bravery  of  the  Great  Ram. — Crippled  at  Last :  The  White  Flag. — The  Stars  and  Stripes 
on  Her  Staff.— Buchanan  Yields  His  Sword 590 

III. 
SUPERB  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  ORATORY. 

THE  "  GREAT  DEBATE  "  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE  IN  CONGRESS.— Vi-l?30 
tal  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed. — Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Eloquence. — 
Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  the  Grandest  Forensic  Achievement  in  the  Whole  Range  of 
Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts. — His  Magnificent  Personal  Appearance. — Unprecedented  Interest 
and  Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind. — No  Debate  Comparable  with  This. — Known  as  the 
"  Battle  of  the  GiaiiU." — Rival  Orators ;  Pleasant  Courtesies.—  Golden  Age  of  American  Oratory.  205 

STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONGRESS.— John  Quincy  Adams,  the  183S 
"  Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single  Handed,  in  its  Defense  in  the 
House  of  Representatives. — Passage  of  the  "Gag  Rule." — Expulsion  and  Assassination  Threatened. 
— His  Unquailing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed  before  in  the  Halls  of  Legislation. — Triumph 
of  his  Master  Mind 252 

POLITICAL  DEBATE  BETWEEN  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  AND  STEPHEN  A.  DOUG-  W» 
LAS,  IN  ILLINOIS. — Cause  of  this  Remarkable  Oratorical  Contest. — Intense  Interest  in  All  Parts 
of  the  Land  — The  Heart  of  Every  American  Citizen  Enlisted  in  the  Momentous  Issue  Involved. — 
Eminent  Character  of  the  Combatants. — Their  Extraordinary  Ability  and  Eloquence  Universally 
Acknowledged. — The  Discussions  Attended  by  Friends  and  Foes. — Victory,  Defeat,  Life  and 
Death. — Condition  of  the  New  Territories. — Form  of  Constitution  to  be  Decided. — Domestic  Institu- 
tions :  Slavery.  Mr.  Douglas  Advocates  "  Popular  Sovereignty." — "  Prohibition  "  Urged  by  Mr. 
Lincoln. — National  Importance  of  the  Question. — The  Public  Mind  Divided. — Joint  Debates  Pro- 
posed.— Agreement  between  the  two  Leaders. — Personal  Appearance  and  Style. — Plans,  Places, 
Scenes. — Theories  and  Arguments  Advanced. — Skill  and  Adroitness  of  the  Disputants. — Immense 
Concourses. — Result  Impartially  Stated. — Mr.  Douglas  Re-elected  Senator. — Mr.  Lincoln  Nominated 
for  President. — His  Election  to  that  Office. — Douglas's  Magnanimity. — The  Olive  Branch. — Shoulder 
to  Shoulder  as  Unionists. — Sudden  Decease  of  the  Great  Senator 469 

ORATORICAL  CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND,  BY  REV.  H.  IMS 

W.  BEECHKR. — His  Olympian  Speeches,  in  Defiance  of  British  Sentiment,  in  the  Great  Cities  of 
the  Kingdom. — Superb  Exhibition  of  Forensic  Power  in  Liverpool. — He  Wrestles,  Single-Handed 
and  Triumphantly,  for  Three  Hours  with  a  Vast  Mob  in  that  City. — Reception  at  Exeter  Hall, 
London. — Mr.  Beecher's  Tour  Abroad  for  His  Health. — Civil  Conflict  Raging  in  America. — Mr. 
Beecher  Urged  to  Speak  on  United  States  Affairs. — Opening  Speech  in  Manchester. — Great 
Audience. — Attempts  to  Silence  Him. — Powerlessness  of  the  Opposition. — Discussions  in  Glasgow 
and  Edinburgh. — Battle  Waged  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  Liverpool. — Violent  Efforts  to  Gag  Him. — 
Taunts,  Curses,  Hisses,  Fury  — Stampings,  Hootings,  Yellings. — Beecher's  Pluck,  and  Good 
Humor. — Grand  Closing  Scene  in  the  Capital 573 

IV. 
WONDERFUL  PHENOMENA  OF  THE  EARTH,  OCEAN,  AND  HEAVENS. 

THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY.— One  of  Nature's  Marvels.— The  Northern  States  Wrapt  in  H?? 
a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Herds  Retire  to  their  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their 
Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  their  Evening  Songs  at  Noonday. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — The  Day 
of  Judgment  Supposed  to  have  Come.     Science  at  a  Loss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenome- 
non.— Incidents  and  Anecdotes 40 


14  CONTENTS. 

TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE.— The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  th;  Ear;h  at  Mid-day.— Stars  1«>B 
and  1'lauets  iu  Jb'ull  Radiance. — Magnificent  Spectacle  of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and 
the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuberances  Flaming  from  the  Sun. — Business  Pursuits  Abandoned. — Millions 
of  Faces  Turned  Upward. — The  Phenomenon  Vlew«u  with  Curiosity,  Wonder,  and  Absorbed  De- 
light.— Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science. — Reveianons  of  the  Spectroscope. — Spots  on  the  Sun 
Examined. — Climax  of  the  Impressive  Scene 134 

EXTENSIVE  AND   CALAMITOUS  EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST.— Its  Convulsive  1811 
Force  Felt  all  Over  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. — The  Earth  Suddenly 
Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Region  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful  Chasms  and  Upheavels. — 
Ruin  and  Desolation  Brought  upon  the  Inhabitants. — Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes  in 
California,  their  Characteristics  and  Destructiveness. — Humboldt's  Interesting  Opinion.    .    .    .     156 

THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  GALE  OF  SEPTEMBER.— Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  IMS 
Tempest. — Suffocating  Current  of  Hot  Air. — All  New  England  Desolated 178 

SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER  ALL  OVER  THE  UNITED  STATES.  The  Most  Grand  ™& 
and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man. — The  Whole  Firmament  of 
the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. — Amazing  Velocity,  Size  and  Profusion  of 
the  Falling  Bodies. — Their  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and  Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — The  People 
Wonder  Struck. — Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignorant. — Conflagration 
of  the  World  Feared 228 

MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  OF   1837.— A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  18?! 
Flames  Encircles  the  Earth. — Arches  of  Resplendent  Auroral  Glories  Span  the  Hemisphere. — Innu- 
merable Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty  Rise  from  the  Horizon  to  the  Zenith. — The  Face  of 
Nature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  Astonished  World,  as  if  Dyed  in  Blood. — Uncommon  Extent  and 
Sublimity. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers 269 

SUDDEN  APPEARANCE   OF  A  GREAT  AND  FIERY  COMET  IN  THE    SKIES  AT  !?« 
NOONDAY. — It   Sweeps  Through  the   Heavens,  for  Several    Weeks,  with  a  Luminous   Train 
103,000,000  Miles  in  Length. — Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Whirling  Around  that  Orb  with 
Prodigious  Velocity,  Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum.     Its  Mysterious  disappear- 
ance in  the  Unknown  Realms  and  Depths  of  Space. — Most  Notable  of  all  Comets 300 

V. 

EXTRAORDINARY  DISCOVERIES  AND  INVENTIONS,  SCIENTIFIC  EXPEDITIONS, 
AXD  THE  SPLENDID  TRIUMPHS  OF  MECHANICAL  GENIUS. 

WHITNEY'S    COTTON-GIN    INVENTION.— The  Inventor's    Obscure   Circumstances.— His  HS 
Early  Mechanical  Genius. — Determined  to  get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a  Teacher.— 
Befriended  by  a  Widow. — His  Inventive  Efforts  Produce  the  Cotton-Giu. — It  Revolutionizes  the  In- 
dustrial Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  the  South. — How  Cotton  Became  "  King." — Its  Relation 
to  the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History 98 

FULTON'S  TRIUMPHANT  APPLICATION  OF  STEAM  TO  NAVIGATION.— Fulton's  ?*« 
Early  Mechanisms. — His  Experiments  and  Trials. — Discovery  of  Steam  Propulsion  at  Last. — Pub- 
lic Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. — Construction  of  the  First  Steamboat. — Incidents  at  the  Launch. — Sail- 
ing of  the  "  New-Fangled  Craft." — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes. — 
First  Steamboat  at  the  West. — The  World  Indebted  to  American  Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  this 
Mighty  Agent  in  Humao  Progress  and  Power. — The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged.  .  150 

MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH.— Realization  of  the  Highest  !»» 
Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle. — Principle,  Structure  and  Operation  of  the  Machine. — Net-Work  of 
Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents. — The  Inventor's  Experiments,  Labors,  Discourage- 
ments, and   Triumphs. — "  Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and  Other  Honors,  Bestowed   upon  Him  by- 
Crowned  Heads 244 

FREMONT'S  HEROIC  EXPEDITION  OF  DISCOVERY  TO  THE  TJNTRACKED  RE-  »« 
GIONOF  THE  NORTH- WEST,  OREGON,  CALIFORNIA,  ETC.— Fremont  a  Pioneer  of  Em- 
pire.— National  Objects  of  this  Tear.    Enchanting  Record  of  Adventures.     Surveys  and  Researches. 
-Hi*  Exploration  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  of  that  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mountain*, 


CONTENTS.  15 

the  South  Pass.— Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range.— He  Enriches 
Every  Branch  of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Remote  and  Boundless  Country  before  Entirely 
Unknown 285 

DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER  AS   A  PREVENTIVE  OF  PAIN.—  1S« 

Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain. — Persistent  Search  for  a  Preventive.— Discovery  of  the  Long-Sought  Se- 
cret.—Honor  Due  to  the  Medical  Science  of  America.— Curious  Religious  Objections.— Account  of 
the  First  Capital  Demonstration  before  a  Crowded  and  Breathless  Assembly.— Its  Signal  Success. — 
Most  Beneficent  Boon  Ever  Conferred  by  Science  upon  th«  Human  Race 324 

INVENTION     OF    THAT    WONDROUS    PIECE    OF     MECHANISM,  THE     SEWING- 1846 
MACHINE. — The  Woman's  Friend.— Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  its  Produc- 
tion.—Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His  Garret.— His  Ingenuity,  Struggles  and  Triumphs.— A  Machine 

at  Last. World-Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device. — The  Industrial  Interests  of  the  Country  Affected 

to  the  Amount  of  8500,000,000  Annually.— The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire.    .     .    332 

EXPEDITION  TO  THE  RIVER  JORDAN  AND  THE  DEAD  SEA,  BY  LIEUT.  W.  F.  l|« 
LYNCH,  UNDER  THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  GOVERNMENT.— Inter- 
est in  the  Holy  Land.— Equipment  of  the  United  States  Expedition. — On  Its  Way  to  the  Orient. — 
Anchoring  Under  Mount  Carmel. — Passage  Down  the  Jordan. — The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Cir- 
cumnavigated, Sun-eyed,  and  Traced  to  Its  Source. — Wild  and  Impressive  Scenery. — Twenty  Days 
and  Nights  upon  the  "  Sea  of  Death."— It  is  Explored,  and  Sounded,  and  its  Mysteries  Solved.— 
Important  Results  to  Science 354 

DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  AT  SUTTER'S  MILL,  CALIFORNIA.— First  Practical  Discovery  I*4* 
of  the  Precious  Metal.— Simple  Accident  that  Led  to  It.— The  Discovery  Kept  Secret.— How  it  was 
Disclosed.— The  News  Spreads  Like  Wild-Fire  to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe.— Overwhelming 
Tide  of  Emigrants  from  all  Countries.— Their  Trials.— Life  Among  the  Diggers. — Nucleus  of  a 
Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific.— California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World  and  the  Golden 
Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union 360 

DISCOVERY  OF  PETROLEUM  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. — Discovery  of  Prodigious  Quanti-  1889 
ties  of  Illuminating  Oil  in  the  Depths  of  the  Earth. — Boring  of  Innumerable  Wells.— Fabulous  Prices 
Paid  for  Lands. — Poor  Farmers  Become  Millionaires. — The  Supply  of  Oil  Exceeds  the  Wants  of  the 
Whole  Country. — Immense  Exportations  of  the  Article. — Vast  Source  of  National  Wealth  and  In- 
dustry.— Revolution  in  Artificial  Light.— Ancient  Knowledge  of  this  Oil.— Floating  on  Ponds  and 
Creeks. — Its  Collection  and  Use.— Native  Sources  :  Origin 47« 

THIRTY  THOUSAND  MILES  OF  RAILWAY  IN  THIRTY  YEARS,  AND  EIGHTY  1^8 
THOUSAND  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY.— Curious  Chronicles  Relating  to  the  Introduction  of  Im- 
proved Means  of  Transit. — The  Old  and  the  New. — Development  and  Progress. — Numerous  and 
Important  Advantages.— Great  Saving  of  Time  and  Expense. — Initiatory  Undertakings  in  the 
United  States.— First  American  Railway  with  Steam  as  the  Locomotive  Power.— Small  Beginnings : 
Great  Results. — Amazing  Growth  and  Expansion  in  all  Directions. — Social  and  Business  Changes. 
— Infancy  of  Mechanism  in  this  Line. — Pioneer  Coach  and  Locomotive. — Successive  Steps  of  Advance- 
ment.— Usual  Channels  of  Trade  Abandoned. — Power  of  Capital  Demonstrated. — Distan;  Sections 
and  Interests  Equalized. — Stimulus  to  Industry. — Vast  Constructive  Works  Involved. — U.  S.  Enter- 
prise not  Behindhand. — "  Breaking  the  Ground." — Less  than  20  Miles  in  1829. — Some  30,000  Miles 
in  1859. — Constant  and  Rapid  Increase. — Inventive  Genius  Displayed. — "Improvements"  by  the 
Thousands.— Steel  Rails  Substituted  for  Iron.— Luxury  on  Wheels.— Palace  and  Sleeping  Cars.— 
Tremendous  Speed  Attained. — American  and  Foreign  Lines. — Railways  16,000  Feet  Above  the 
Sea 645 

SUCCESSFUL  LAYING  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH   CABLE  ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  «*« 
OCEAN. — The  Old  World  and  the  New  United  by  Instantaneous  Communication. — Pronounced  the 
Grandest  of  Human  Enterprises. — Ten  Years  of  Difficulty  and  Failure  in  the  Mighty  Task. — The 
Name  of  Its  Indomitable  Projector  Crowned  with  Immortal  Honor. — Illustrations  of  the  Power  and 
Wonders  of  this  New-Born  Agent  of  CivUization.— Moral  Uses  of  the  Cable 629 

COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD.— Spikes  of  the  Richest  Gold  and  a  Hammer  1869 
of  Pure  Silver  Used  in  Layiug  the  Last  Rail.— The  Blows  of  the  Sledge  Telegraphed  to  All  the 


16  CONTENTS. 

Great  Cities. — The  Wide  Continent  Spanned  with  Iron  from  the  Farthest  East  to  the  Golden  Gata. 
— Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans. — Seven  Days  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco. — 
Greatest  Railroad  Route  on  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — "  Manifest  Destiny  "  of  the  United  States.  637 

"  MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE,"  OR  FOUR  NEW  WONDERS  OF  THE  WORLD.— The  18?e 
Electric  Light,  or  Brilliant  and  Abundant  Illumination  by  Means  of  Electricity. — The  Telephone,  or 
Instantaneous  Articulate  Communication  between  Distant  Points. — The  Phonograph,  or  Talking 
Machine,  Reproducing  and  Preserving  Human  Utterances,  whether  of  Speech  or  Song,  in  all  their 
Characteristics. — The  Microphone,  or  Prodigious  Magnifier  of  Sound,  however  Slight  or  Remote. — 
Splendor  of  the  Electric  Rays. — Former  Inventions  in  this  Line. — Prof.  Farmer's  Early  Success. — Ed. 
ison's  Improved  Device. — Its  Special  Characteristics. — Sanguine  Expectations  Entertained. — Interest 
Excited  by  the  Telephone. — Encomiums  from  English  Sources. — Principles  of  Construction  and  Use. 
— Simplicity  and  Serviceableness. — Tens  of  Thousands  in  Operation.  How  the  Phonograph  was 
Developed. — Other  Inventions  Fairly  Eclipsed. — Its  Appearance,  Form,  Outcome. — Words  and 
Tones  Recorded. — Astonishment  and  Delight. — Its  Five  Chief  Features. — Marvels  of  the  Micro- 
phone.— A  Touch  or  Tick  Audible  for  Miles. — Arrangement  of  the  Apparatus. — Curious  Feats 
Accomplished. — Explanation  of  this  Property 681 

VI. 
APPALLING  PUBLIC  CALAMITIES,  DISASTERS,  PANICS,  ETC. 

DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.— His  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours  and  Dying  «»« 
Words. — Fortitude  and  Serenity  Through  all  His  Sufferings. — He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approach- 
ing Dissolution  Without  a  Murmur. — The  Whole  World  does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations, 
to  His  Exalted  Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. — He  Anticipated  an  Early  Death. — His  Invariably  Good 
Health. — Exposure  in  a  Snow-storm. — Takes  a  Fatal  Cold. — Last  Letter  Written  by  His  Hand. — 
Reads  the  Papers  in  the  Evening. — Characteristic  Reply  to  His  Wife. — Passes  a  Restless  Night. — 
Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day. — Medical  Treatment  of  no  Avail. — Calls  for  His  Two  Wills, 
Burns  One.— Affecting  Scene  at  His  Bedside.— Last  Words,  "  'Tis  Well !  "—Only  One  Day's  Sick- 
ness.— Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family  Vault. — Tidings  of  His  Death. — 
Tributes  from  Peoples  and  Kings.— A  Man  Without  a  Parallel. — Last  Page  In  His  Journal. — Re- 
entombment  in  1837. — Appearance  of  His  Remains 119 

AWFUL  EXPLOSION  OF  COMMODORE  STOCKTON'S  GREAT  GUN,  THE  "PEACE-  W« 
MAKER." — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm.— His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship.— Styled  the  Pride  of  the 
Navy. — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala  Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. — 
Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine. — Firing  of  the  Monster  Gun. — "  One  More  Shot ! "  and  it  Bursts.— 
The  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed. — Miracu- 
lous Escape  of  the  President. — Sudden  Transition  from  the  Height  of  Human  Enjoyment  to  the 
Fxtreme  of  Woe 315. 

AWFUL  VISITATIONS  OF  THE  "  ANGEL  OF  DEATH."— Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Epi-  1^9 
demies  at  Differeat  Periods. — Frightful  Mortality  and  Panic. — Business  Abandoned,  Churches  Closed, 
Streets  Barricaded,  Cities  Deserted. — Proclamation  by  the  President  of  the  United  States. — The 
Virtues,  Passions,  and  Vices  of  Human  Nature  Strikingly  Illustrated. — Tens  of  Thousands  Swept  at 
Once  from  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — Eras  of  American  Epidemics. — Wide  and  Ghastly  Ravages. — 
Self-Preservation  the  First  Law. — Social  Intercourse  Suspended. — Ties  of  Affection  Sundered. — 
Parents  Forsake  Children. — Husbands  Flee  from  Wives. — Rich  Men  Buried  Like  Paupers. — Money 
and  Rank  Unavailing. — Rumble  of  the  Dead  Carts. — Activity  in  the  Graveyards. — They  Look  as  if 
Plowed  Up. — Women  in  Childbirth  Helpless  — Their  Screams  for  Succor. — Care  of  a  Lunatic  Pa- 
tient.— The  Tender  Passion  Still  Alive. — Courageous  Marriages. — Death  in  the  Bridal  Chamber. — 
Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy. — Crime,  Filth,  and  Disease. — Quacks  and  Nostrums  Rife. — The  Celebrated 
"Thieves'  Vinegar." 368 

LOSS  OF  THE  SPLENDID  COLLINS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC  OF  NEW  YORK,  BY  IM* 
COLLISION  WITH  THE  IRON  STEAMER  VESTA.— Occurrence  of  the  Disaster  in  Mid- 
Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog. — Sinking  of  the  Noble  Ship  Stern  Foremost. — Hundreds  of 
Souls  Engulfed  in  a  Watery  Grave. — Experiences  Crowded  Into  that  Awful  Hour. — The  Wail  of 
Agony  and  Despair  from  the  Fated  Throng. — Her  Non- Arrival,  Painful  Suspense. — The  Dreadful 
News  at  Last. — Shock  to  the  Public  Mind. — Strong  Build  of  the  Arctic. — Prestige  of  the  ("oiling 
Line. — A  Casualty  Undreamed  of. — Surging  Crowd  in  Wall  Street. — Names  of  Lost  and  Saved  Read. 
— Hope,  Joy,  Grief,  Anguish. — The  Sad  Tale  on  all  Lips. — Captain  Luce  in  the  Hour  of  Woe. — 
Manliness  of  His  First  Order. — Ship  Deserted  by  the  Crew. — "  Every  Man  for  Himself  " —  429 


CONTENTS.  17 

TERRIBLE  CRISIS  IN  THE  BUSINESS  AND  FINANCIAL  WORLD.— Known  as  "  The  1WT 
Great  Panic." — A  Suddeu  Universal  Crasli  in  the  Height  of  Prosperity. — Caused  by  Wild  Speculations 
and  Enormous  Debt. — Suspension  of  Banks  all  over  the  Country. — Failure  of  the  Oldest  and  Wealth- 
iest Houses. — Fortunes  Swept  Away  in  a  Day. — Prostration  of  Every  Branch  of  Industry. — Pro- 
longed Embarrassment,  Distrust,  and  Suffering.— The  Panic  of  1837  :  A  Comparison.     .    .    .    447 

ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN,  AT  FORD'S  THEATER,  WASHING-  1MB 
TON,  BY  J.  WILKES  BOOTH.— Conspiracy  to  Murder,  Simultaneously,  All  the  Chief  Officers  of 
the  Government. — The  Most  Exalted  aud  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers  Falls  a  Victim. — A  Universal 
Wail  of  Anguish  Poured  Forth  from  the  National  Heart. — Darkest  Page  in  the  History  of  the 
Country. — Fuuer.il  Cortege  Through  Fifteen  States. — Tragical  Fate  of  the  Conspirators. — Object  of 
this  Most  Infamous  of  Crimes. — Singular  Time  of  Its  Perpetration. — Virtual  End  of  the  War. — 
Dawn  of  Peace :  Universal  Joy.— President  Lincoln's  Happy  Frame  of  Mind.— How  He  Passed  Hi» 
Last  Day. — Booth's  Swift  aud  Bloody  End. — Trial  of  His  Accomplices.  .  .  .  .617 

BURNING  OF  THE  CITY  OF  CHICAGO,  ILL.,  THE  COMMERCIAL  METROPOLIS  OF  iwi 
THE  NORTH-WEST.— Most  Destructive  Conflagration  in  the  History  of  Civilized  Nations.— A 
Thirty  Hours'  Tornado  of  Fire  in  all  Directions. — Vast  Billows  of  Inextinguishable  Flame. — Up- 
Wards  of  Two  Thousand  Acres,  or  Seventy-Three  Miles  of  btreets,  with  17,450  Buildings,  Destroyed: 
Loss,  $200,000,000 .          ,          .         ,653 

ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD,  AT  THE  BALTIMORE  AND  POTO-  i»? 
MAC  RAILWAY  STATION,  IN  WASHINGTON,  JULY  2.— His   Departure  from  the  White 
House  with  Secretary  Elaine  on  a  Brief  Tour  of  Recreation. — Excellent  Health  and  Spirits. — Arrival 
at  the  Depot. — A  Lurking  Assassin,  C.  J.  Guiteau,  Approaches  in  the  Rear. — A  Startling  but  Harm- 
less Shot,  followed  by  Another  which  Enters  the  Body. — The  President  Sinks  to  the  floor. — A  Hideous 

Tragedy. — Capture  of  the  Murderer. — The  Wounded  Victim  Conveyed  to  the  Executive  Mansion. 

The  Nation  Horrified,  and  the  Whole  Civilized  World  Shocked. — Condolences  from  the  Remotest 
Courts  and  Governments. — Unaffected  Sympathy  from  all  Political  Parties. — Past  Differences  Hushed 
and  Forgotten. — Eleven  Weeks  of  Suffering.— Heroism  and  Resignation  of  the  Patient.— Devotion 
aud  Fortitude  of  the  President's  Wife.— Removal  to  Long  Branch,  N.  J.— Temporary  Relief.— Hover- 
ing between  Life  and  Death. — Solemn  Prayers  for  his  Recovery.— Sudden  and  Fatal  End  of  the 
Struggle.— A  Pall  over  Four  Continents.— Tributes  from  Sovereigns  and  Peoples  the  World  Over. — 
The  Wail  and  Lamentation  of  Mankind. — Funeral  Procession  and  Ceremonies. — Queen  Victoria's 
Floral  Offering  on  the  Bier. — At  Rest,  in  Lake  view  Cemetery,  Cleveland,  Ohio 705 

VII. 
CELEBRATED  CRIMINAL  CASES,  TRAGEDIES  AND  CONSPIRACIES,  ETC. 

TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.— Darkest  Page  in  American  Rev-  "80 
olutionary  History  —Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar  of  America,  Over  to  the  British.— 
Movements  of  the  Guilty  Parties.— Discovery  and  Frustration  of  the  Crime.— Major  Andre,  the  Brit- 
ish Spy,  is  Captured,  and  Swings  from  a  Gibbet.— Escape  of  Arnold  to  the  Enemy.— Is  Spurued  and 
Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's  Unquestioned  Bravery. — Commended  by  General  Washington — In- 
famous Personal  Transactions  — Reprimanded  by  His  Chief.— Determines  on  Revenge  —Correspond- 
ence with  the  Foe. — Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again. — Obtains  Command  of  West  Point. — 
Midnight  Conference  with  Andre. — Andre  Seized  while  Returning. — Astounding  Evidence  Against 
Him  —Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors  —Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters.— Arnold  Apprised  of 
the  Event.— A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wife.— Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor.— He  Reaches  a  British 
Man-of- War. —Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News.— His  Call  on  Mrs  Arnold. — Andre's  Trial 
an'' Conviction— Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime.— His  Unlamented  Death 48 

FATAL  DUEL  BETWEEN  MR.  BURR  AND  GENERAL  ALEXANDER  HAMILTON.  !*>4 
—Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire. — His  Death  in  Thirty  Hours.— Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn 
Obsequies  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land. —Mourned  as  One  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic. — Indictment 
of  the  Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder. — Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life. — Washington's  Right- 
hand  Man  —Champion  of  the  Federalists.— Burr's  Career  in  the  Revolution  —His  Notorious  De- 
bauchery.—Finally  Dismissed  by  Washington  —Becomes  Vice-President  in  1800 — Deadly  Personal 
Hatreds. — Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents. — Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton. — Pacific  Explana- 
tions Spurned — Forced  to  Meet  Burr. — Makes  His  Will  in  Anticipation. — Sings  at  a  Banquet  the 
Day  Before. — Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour. — Hamilton's  Mortal  Wound. — What  He  Said  of  the  Event. 
— Conversation  before  Dying. — Partake*  of  the  Communion. — His  Testimony  against  Dueling. — 
Heartless  Conduct  of  Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw 127 


18  CONTEXTS. 

CONSPIRACY  ANT)  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR.— Lawless  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Domin-  I?* 
ion  at  the  South-west. — A  New  Empire  Contemplated,  with  Burr  as  Sovereign  — Seizure  of  His  Flo- 
tilla and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  Ready  to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces. — Capture  and  Ar- 
raignment of  Burr  for  High  Treason. — Melancholy  End  of  the  Conspirator. — "  Theodosia,  the 
Beloved." — Reckless  Character  of  Burr. — His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions. — Enlists  Blennerhassett  in 
His  Plans  — Their  Expedition  Arranged. — Mexico  the  Ultimate  Point. — Discovery  of  the  Whole 
Plot. — Its  Complete  Frustration. — Burr  Flees  in  Disguise. — Scene  at  His  Arrest. — Attempt  to  Es- 
cape.— The  Iron-Hearted  Man  ia  Tears  — His  Social  Fascination. — Preparations  for  the  Trial  — Its 
Legal  and  Forensic  Interest. — Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds. — Shunned  as  Man  of  Infamy. — De- 
votion of  His  Daughter  Theodosia  — Lifelong  and  Unalterable  Love. — Her  Mysterious  Fate. — Burr's 
Anguish  and  Agony. — A  Moral  Wreck  and  Warning 142 

DUEL  BETWEEN  HENRY  CLAY,  SECRETARY  OF  STATE,  AND  JOHN  RANDOLPH,  '»» 
UNITED  STATES  SENATOR  FROM  VIRGINIA.— Randolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the 
Floor  of  the  Senate — Accuses  Him  of  Falsifying  an  Official  Document — The  Puritan  and  "Black- 
leg" Taunt. — Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to  Mortal  Combat. — Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Fore- 
most Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field  of  Honor." — Result  of  the  Hostile  Meeting. — Fame  of  these 
Party  Leaders. — Ancient  Political  Antagonists. — Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute. — Randolph's  Gift  of 
Sarcasm. — Applies  it  Severely  to  Clay. — Clay  Demands  Satisfaction — Reconciliation  Refused  — 
Bladensburg  the  Dueling  Ground. — Pistols  the  Weapons  Chosen. — Colonel  Benton  a  Mutual  Friend. 
— Incidents  the  Night  Before. — Randolph's  Secret  Resolve. — Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood. — View  of 
this  Shrine  of  "  Chivalry." — Salutations  of  the  Combatants. — Solemn  Interest  of  the  Scene. — Dis- 
tance Ten  Paces. — A  Harmless  Exchange  of  Shots. — Clay  Calls  it  "  Child's  Play ! " — Another  Fire. 
No  Injury. — "  Honor  "  Satisfied — Pleasant  Talk  with  Each  Other 196 

CAREER,  CAPTURE,  AND  EXECUTION  OF   GIBBS,  THE    MOST  NOTED   PIRATE  '831 
OF  THE  CENTURY.— His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years, 
Against  the  Commerce  of  all  Nations. — Terror  Inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean 
and  the  Enemy  of  Mankind.— Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered  and  Destroyed.— Their  Crews  and 
Passengers,  Male  and  Female,  Instantly  Murdered. — His  Capture  and  Execution 222 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON  AT  THE  UNITED  183B 
STATES  CAPITOL  IN  WASHINGTON,  BY  RICHARD  LAWRENCE.— Failure  of  the  Pis- 
tols to  Discharge. — The  President  Rushes  Furiously  upon  His  Assailant,  and  is  Restrained  from 
Executing  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends. — Political  Hostility  Supposed  to  have  Insti- 
gated the  Act. — Lawrence  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic  without  Accomplices. — His  History  and 
Trial 288 

MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR  SOMERS,  CAPTAIN  A.  18a 
S.  MACKENZIE  —Deep  Laid  Plot  to  Seize  the  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men, 
Raise  the  Black  Flag,  and  Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate.— All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered,  Burnt,  Their 
Drews  Butchered,  and  Women  and  Girls  Ravished. — Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  United  States 
Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader — The  Chief  Conspirators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arm — First  Mutiny  in 
the  United  States  Navy. — Spencer's  Hold  upon  His  Comrades. — Death  the  Penalty  of  Disclosure. — 
Confidence  Fortunately  Misplaced. — A  Man  of  Houor  Tampered  With. — Captain  Mackenzie  In- 
formed of  the  Plot. — Treats  it  as  Wild  and  Improbable  — Confronts  and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders 
Him  to  be  Ironed. — Plan  Found  in  His  Razor  Case. — Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew. — None  of 
the  Officers  Implicated. — Close  Investigation  of  the  Case. — Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die  — 
Their  Fate  Announced  to  Them.— Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life. — They  Meet  on  their  Way  to  be 
Hung. — Treatment  of  Each  Other. — Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal. — Closing  Scene  of  the 
Tragedy  -—All  Hands  Cheer  the  Ship  —Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross 291 

MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN,  A  NOTED  MILLIONAIRE  OF  BOSTON,  BY  !?« 
PROF.  JOHN  W.  WEBSTER,  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE.— High  Social  Position  of  the  Par- 
ties.—Instantaneous  Outburst  of  Surprise,  Alarm,  and  Terror,  in  the  Community,  on  the  Discovery 
of  the  Deed.— Remarkable  Chain  of  Circumstances  Leading  to  the  Murderer's  Detection.— Solemn 
and  Exciting  Trial. — Account  of  the  Mortal  Blow  and  Disposal  of  the  Remains. — Similar  Crse  of 
Colt  and  Adams.— Parkman's  Wealth  and  Fame.— His  Mysterious  Disappearance.— Arrest  of  Web- 
ster at  Night — Behavior  in  Court  —He  Boldly  Addresses  the  Jury. — Hung  Near  the  Spot  of  Hia 
Birth.  ' •  »76 


CONTENTS.  19 

REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  CALIFORNIA.— Revolution  in  the  Admin-  1851 
istration  of  Justice — Powerlessness  aud  Indifference  of  the  Regular  Authorities. — Robbery,  Arson, 
and  Murder,  Alarmingly  Prevalent  — The  Committee's  Secret  Chamber  of  Judgment. — Sudden  Seiz 
ure  and  Trial  of  Noted  Criminals  — Solemn  Tolling  of  the  Signal  Bell. — Swift  and  Terrible  Execu- 
tions.— Renovation  of   Society, 395 

ASSAULT   ON  THE  HON.  CHARLES  SUMNER,  BY  HON.   PRESTON   S.  BROOKS.—  1886 
Brought  about  by  Sumner's  Great  Kansas  Speech  for  Free  Soil  and  Free  Labor. — Twenty  Sndden 
and  Terrible  Blows,  with  a  Solid  Gutta  Percha  Cane,   Dealt  upon  Mr.  Snmner's  Bare  Head. — He 
Staggers  and  Falls,  Senseless,  Gashed,  and  Bleeding.— His  Three  Years'  Illness.— Recovery.— Illus- 
trious  Career, 437 

ANARCHY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.— Anarchy.— Its  Avowed  Principles  and  Aims —It  1886 
struggles  Against  Law  and  Order  in  Chicago,  III.,  and  Milwaukee,  Wis.,  and,  for  the  First  Time  in 
die  Western  World,  Tests  the  Strength  of  Republican  Institutions. — Transplanting  the  Social  Dis- 
ease from  Europe  to  America. — Foreign  Agitators  Seek  a  Congenial  Field  in  "  Freedom's  Land." — 
Their  Theories,  Aims,  aud  Methods. — Anti-Government  Principles  Loudly  Proclaimed. — Destruc- 
tion of  the  State,  Church,  and  Society — Defiance  of  all  Legal  Restraint. — Red-Handed  Schemes 
and  Plottings. — Dynamite  aud  Violence  to  be  Employed. — How  and  Where  the  Bombs  were  Made. 
— Murderous  Appeals  to  Workingmen. — Fatal  Scene  of  Conflict  Precipitated. — Dynamite  Bombs 
Thrown  Into  the  Police  Ranks. — Their  Heroic  Fidelity  to  Duty. — Day  and  Night  of  Blood 
and  Terror. — Horror  and  Indignation  Throughout  the  Country. — Harvest  of  Death  and  Mu- 
tilation.— Arrest  of  Some  of  the  Most  Noted  Leaders. — Their  Conviction  After  a  Two  Months' 
Trial. — Incidents  Stated  by  Mr.  Reid,  a  Deputy  Sheriff. — Vindication  of  Law  and  Justice. — Justice 
of  the  Sentence  Questioned  by  Some. — Life  Imprisonment  Urged. — Executions  Amidst  a  Tumultu- 
ous Throng, 727 

VIII. 

REMARKABLE   REFORMS,  DELUSIONS,   AND  EXCITEMENTS  IN  THE  MORAL, 
EDUCATIONAL,  AND  RELIGIOUS  WORLD,  ETC. 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS,  or  "LATTER  DAY  SAINTS,"  UNDER  1830 
JOSEPH  SMITH,  THE  "  PROPHET  OF  THE  LORD."— Smith  the  "  Mohammed  of  the  West." 
— His  Assumed  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible. — Secret  History  of  this  Transac- 
tion.— Organization  of  the  First  Church. — Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Couverts  Obtained  in  all  Parts 
of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo, the  "City  of  Zion." — Smith's  Character  and 
Bloody  Death. — Brigham  Young  His  Successor. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "Promised  Land,"  .  214 

BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION.— First  Temperance  Society  1840 
in  the  United  States. — Origin,  Rapid  Spread,  Influence,  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement. — 
Enthusiasm  Attending  the  "  Washingtoniau  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  the  Gutter  to  the  Ros- 
trum and  Sway  Multitudes  by  their  Eloquence — Father  Mathew's  Visit — His  600,000  Converts. — 
Career  of  Hawkins,  Mitchell,  Gongh,  Dow,  and  Others. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Tay- 
lor's Whiskey-Jug. — Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog, 276 

EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD.— Miller  as  a  Man  and  Preacher.— His  Ex-  1843 
citing  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — The  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the  Latter-Day  Bible 
Prophecies  Boldly  Declared. — Zealous  Promulgation  of  ;lis  Views. — Scores  of  Thousands  of  Con- 
verts.— Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon. — Preparations  by  Many  for  the  Coming  Event. — 
The  Passing  of  the  Time. — Miller's  Apology  and  Defense. — His  Calm  and  Happy  Death,        .    307 

TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  FREE  POPULAR  EDUCATION.— An  Experiment  in  Behalf  1844 
of  the  Highest  Civilization. — Condition  of  the  Country  Previous  to  such  Efforts. — Early  Scenes  and 
Customs. — Public  Law  Invoked  and  Applied. — Impulse  Given  to  the  Work — Progress  and  Results. 
— America  in  the  Van. — Most  Enlightened  and  Successful  System  in  the  World. — Female  Educa- 
tion.— Colleges,  Universities,  etc. — A  Very  Modern  Idea. — No  National  System  of  Education. — Un- 
dertaken by  the  Individual  States  — Effect  of  Wise  Legislation. — State  Vieing  with  State. — 
School-houses  in  "ye  olden  time." — The  East  and  the  West. — Wonderful  Changes  in  Public 
Opinion, 667 

SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS.— Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  1847 
Opened  Between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings. — Alleged  Revelations  from  the  Unseen  World. 
— Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded  New  York  Village,  of  this  Great  Modern  Wonder. — 
Its  Development  Among  all  Nations  in  all  Lands. — Astonishing  and  Inexplicable  Character  of  the 
Manifestations. — Theories  of  Explanation — Investigations  and  Reports. — Views  of  Agassiz,  Her- 
Bchel,  and  Other  Scientists. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions. — Tendency  of  the  Phenomena. — Thirty 
Years'  History, 340 


20  CONTENTS. 

THE  "GREAT  AWAKENING"  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD.— like  a  Mighty  Rushing  1§S» 
Wind,  it  Sweeps  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific. — Crowded  Prayer  Meetings  Held  Daily  in  Every 
City  and  Town,  from  the  Granite  Hills  of  the  North  to  the  Rolling  Prairies  of  the  West  and  the 
Golden  Slopes  of  California. — Large  Accessions,  from  all  Classes,  to  the  Churches  of  Every  Name 
and  Denomination. — The  "American  Pentecost." — Early  American  Revivals. — Moody  and  Sankey 
in  Great  Britain,  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Chicago,  Boston,  etc. — Dr.  Franklin  and  Mr.  White- 
field. — The  Revival  of  1857  Spontaneous. — No  Leaders  or  Organizers. — Its  Immediate  Cause. — Uni- 
versal Ruin  of  Commerce. — Anxiety  for  Higher  Interests. — All  Days  of  the  Week  Alike. — Business 
Men  in  the  Work. — Telegraphing  Religious  Tidings; — New  York  a  Centsr  of  Influence. — Fulton 
Street  Prayer  Meeting. — Scenes  in  Burton's  Theater. — New  Themes  and  Actors. — Countless  Re- 
quests for  Prayers. — A  Wonderful  Book. — Striking  Moral  Results. — Men  of  Violence  Reformed. — 
Crime  and  Suicide  Prevented. — Infidels,  Gamblers,  Pugilists. — Jessie  Fremont's  Gold  Ring. — "Aw- 
ful "  Gardner's  Case 456 

CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.— The  Venera-  >«?» 
ble  Archbishop  McCloskey,  of  New  York,  Selected  by  the  Roman  Pontiff,  for  this  Great  Office. — He 
becomes  a  Prince  in  the  Church. — The  Highest  Ecclesiastical  Appointment  in  the  Catholic  Hierarchy. 
— Reasons  given  for  this  Step. — Solemn  Investiture,  in  the  Cathedral,  by  Clerical  Dignitaries  from 
All  Parts  of  the  Country. — An  Unparalleled  Scene. — Illustrious  Nature  of  this  Office. — Special  En- 
voy sent  from  Rome. — Announcing  the  Event  to  the  Archbishop. — Time  of  Public  Recognition 
Assigned. — A  Mighty  Stream  of  Humanity. — Decorations  of  the  Church. — Procession  of  Priests. — 
Incensing  the  Altars. — Sacred  Vessels  and  Vestments. — Insignia  Peculiar  to  this  Rank. — The  Scar- 
let Cap. — Profoundly  Impressive  Service. — Unprecedented  on  this  Continent. — Imposing  the  Ber- 
retta. — Intoning  and  Chanting. — Official  Letter  from  the  Pope. — Use  of  the  Latin  Language. — In- 
spiring Strains  of  Music. — Incidents  Attending  the  Ceremonial. — Pontifical  Benediction  by  the 
Cardinal. — Retirement  of  th"  <~!el«u"»nts. — Dispersion  of  the  Vast  Throng fi"5 

IX. 
POPULAR  OVATIONS,  NATIONAL  JUBILEES,  PAGEANTS,  FfiATS,  ETC. 

VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA,  AS  THE  GUEST  OF  THE  REPUBLIC,  AT  W24 
THE  INVITATION  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  CONGRESS  AND  OF  PRESIDENT 
MONROE. — His  Tour  of  Five  Thousand  Miles  through  the  Twenty-four  States. — A  National  Ova- 
tion on  the  Grandest  Scale. — Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  their  Demonstrations 
of  Respect. — The  Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  beside  the  Remains  of  His  Great 
Departed  Friend,  Washington. — Washington  and  Lafayette. — Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis.  186 

BRILLIANT    MUSICAL    TOUR    OF  JENNY  LIND,  THE  QUEEN  OF  SONG.— Twenty  18?? 
Thousand  Persons  Welcome  Her  Arrival. — Transcendent  Beauty  and  Power  of  Her  Voice. — A 
Whole  Continent  Enraptured  with  Her  Enchanting  Melodies. — Pleasant  Exhilaration  of  Feeling 
Throughout  the  Land  by  the  Presence  of  the  Fair  Nightingale. — Honors  from  Webster,  Clay  and 
Other  Dignitaries.— Her  Praises  Fill  the  Wide  World.— The  Vocal  Prodigy  of  the  Age.       .     .    386 

THE    GREAT    INTERNATIONAL    REGATTA    AT   COWES,  ENGLAND.— The   Yacht  1851 
"  America  "  Distances,  by  Nearly  Eight  Miles,  the  Whole  Fleet  of  Swift  and  Splendid  Competitors, 
and  Wins  "the  Cup  of  all  Nations." — Grandest  and  Most  Exciting  Spectacle  of  the  Kind  Ever 
Known. — Queen  Victoria  Witnesses  the  Match. — Universal  Astonishment  at  the  Result. — Admira- 
tion Elicited  by  the  "  America's  "  Beautiful  Model  and  Ingenious  Rig 403 

RECEPTION  OF  GOVERNOR  KOSSUTH,  THE  GREAT  HUNGARIAN  EXILE,  AS  ig" 
THE  INVITED  GUEST  OF  THE  NATION.— Splendid  Military  Pageant  in  New  York,  on  His 
Arrival. — Welcomed  and  Banqueted  by  President  Fillmore. — Received  with  Distinguished  Official 
Honors  on  the  Floor  of  Congress. — He  Eloquently  Pleads  His  Country's  Cause  in  All  Parts  of  the 
Land. — Processions,  Congratulatory  Addresses,  Acclamations,  etc. — A  True-Hearted  Patriot,  and 
Greatest  Orator  of  the  Day 412 

EXHIBITION  OF  THE  INDUSTRY  OF  ALL  NATIONS,  IN  NEW  YORK.— Construction  1M» 
of  the  Crystal  Palace,  a  Colossal  Building  of  Glass  and  Iron. — Four  Acres  of  Surface  Covered  with 
the  Treasures  of  Art,  Science  and  Mechanism,  from  Every  Land. — Inanguration  of  the  Enterprise 
by  President  Pierce. — Five  Thousand  Contributors. — Splendor  of  the  Palace  of  Industry  by  Day ; 
Its  Gorgeous  Illumination  at  Night. — Beauty,  Utility,  Amusement. — The  Grand  Industries  of  Civil- 
ization.— Lesson  Taught  by  Such  a  Display. — Luster  Reflected  on  America 421 


CONTENTS.  21 

GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN,  WITH  A  TREATY  OF  PEACE  «|60 
AND  COMMERCE,  TO  THE  UNITED  STATES  GOVERNMENT.— First  Ambassadors  Ever 
Sent  from  that  Ancient  Country  to  a  Foreign  Land. — Their  Official  Reception  by  President  Bu- 
chanan, and  Tour  of  Observation  to  the  Chief  Cities. — Public  Interest  Excited  by  this  Extraordi- 
nary Mission. — Their  Oriental  Costume,  Manners,  Ceremonies,  Etc. — Distinction  Shown  to  Ameri- 
cans.— Character  of  the  Embassy. — Headed  by  Eminent  Princes. — Numerous  and  Brilliant  Suite  — 
Arrival  at  Washington. — Procession  to  the  Hotel. — Most  Curious  Spectacle. — How  the  Treaty  was 
Carried. — Ceremonies  at  the  White  House — Salutations  and  Speeches. — Impressive  International 
Scene. — Japanese  Diplomacy. — Delivering  the  Tycoon's  Letter.— Appearance  of  the  Ambassadors. — 
President  Buchanan's  Opinion  — Humors  and  Drolleries  — "  Tommy,"  the  Ladies'  Pet. — Gallantry 
to  Miss  Lane. — The  Embassy  at  the  Navy  Yard. — Astonishment  Expressed  by  Them. — Adieu  to  the 
President. — America's  Message  to  the  Emperor 485 

TOUR  OF  HIS  ROYAL  HIGHNESS,  ALBERT  EDWARD,  PRINCE  OF  WALES,  I860 
THROUGH  THE  UNITED  STATES.— Friendly  Letters  Between  President  Buchanan  and  Queen 
Victoria  on  the  Subject. — The  Prince's  First  Entrance  into  American  Waters. — Unbounded  Hospi- 
talities Extended  Him. — Hunting  Excursions,  Military  Reviews,  Balls,  Illuminations,  Etc. — Splendid 
Banquet  at  the  White  House — England's  Appreciation  of  these  Honors  to  Her  Future  King. — Heir 
to  the  British  Throne.— Arrival  at  Detroit,  Chicago,  etc.— Enthusiastic  Crowds  Greet  Him.— His 
Way  Completely  Blocked  Up. — On  a  Hunt :  Fine  Sportsman. — Receptions  at  Various  Cities. — Lo- 
comotive Ride  to  Washington. — Guest  of  President  Buchanan. — Courtesies  and  Ceremonials. — Visit 
to  Mount  Vernon.— At  the  Tomb  of  Washington.— Unparalleled  Historical  Scene.— He  Plants  a 
Tree  at  the  Grave  —Rare  Scenes  in  Philadelphia.— New  York  and  Boston  Festivities  —Present  from 
Trinity  Church,  New  York.— Greatest  Balls  Ever  Known.— He  Meets  a  Bunker  Hill  Veteran.— 
Impressions  of  America. — Incidents,  Anecdotes,  Interviews. — His  Looks,  Manners,  Dress,  Etc. — 
Brilliant  Farewell  at  Portland 493 

ASTONISHING  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING  PERFORMED  BY  MR.  JOHN  S.  RAREY.  1861 
— The  Most  Savage  and  Furious  Animals  Made  Tractable  as  Lambs. — The  Ferocious  and  Far- 
Famed  "  Cruiser  "  Lies  Docile  at  His  Master's  Feet. — Acclamations  of  Wonder  and  Admiration  by 
Crowded  Audiences  — Brilliant  Honors  from  Monarchs  and  Courts  Abroad  — Philosophy  of  Mr. 
Rarey's  Method  and  Success. — Details  of  the  System. — Mr.  Rarey  Personally 509 

THE  NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT.— Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor,  m? 
— Changes  Sought  in  the  Relations  between  Producers  and  Consumers. — General  Declaration  of 
Principles  and  Aims. — A  System  of  Universal  Co-operation  Proposed. — Results  to  be  Realized  by 
Sucli  Combinations.— Patrons  of  Husbandry  and  Sovereigns  of  Industry.— Initiative  Proceedings  in 
1867. — First  Grange  Founded  in  Washington,  D.  C.— Agriculture  the  Grand  Basis.— Mutual  Pro- 
tection and  Advancement. — Small  Encouragement  at  the  Beginning. — Immense  Growth  in  Five 
Years.— Activity  in  the  West  and  South.— Social  and  Moral  Aspects  —Plan  of  Business  Action.— 
Partisan  Prejudices  Disavowed  —No  Political  Tests  Involved.— Opinions  of  Eminent  Leaders  Cited. 
—Views  of  Foreign  Publicists.— Vital  Point  in  the  New  System. — Commercial  and  Financial  Theo- 
ries.—Grain  and  Cotton  Products  —Alleged  Errors  in  Trade  Customs  —Individual  vs.  Associated 
Efforts.— '  Middlemen '  a  Disadvantage.— Substitute  for  their  Intervention.— The  Case  Illustrated. 
— Difficulties  and  Remedies 660 

CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  THE  REPUBLIC— Year  of  1876 
Jubilee,  Festival,  and  Pageant,  throughout  the  Land  —Prosperity,  Power,  and  Renown  of  the  Na- 
tion.—A  Union  of  Nearly  Forty  Great  Commonwealths  and  Forty  Million  People.  -Anticipations 
of  the  Coming  Anniversary.— Legislation  by  Congress  for  its  Patriotic  Observance.— A  Grand  Expo- 
sition of  the  Century's  Growth  and  Progress,  the  Principal  Feature  Decided  Upon.— Vast  Work  of 
Preparation.— The  Whole  World  at  Peace,  and  all  Countries  and  Climes  in  Sympathy  with  the  Re- 
public and  its  Auspicious  Era.— Ushering  in  the  Year's  Ceremonials.— Every  City,  Town,  and  Vil- 
lage, Covered  with  Gay  Streamers  and  Waving  Flags.— Pomp,  Parade,  and  Universal  Fraternization. 
—Wondrous  Microcosm  of  Civilization  Concentrated  at  Philadelphia.— The  Culminating  Art  and 
Skill  of  Sixty  Centuries  of  Human  Advancement,  and  the  Products  of  Every  Quarter  of  the  Globe, 
Displayed  in  Their  Richest  Illustrations.— An  Unprecedented  Scene  :  President  and  Emperor  Re- 
ceiving the  Salutations  of  the  American  People.— Oratory,  Music,  Poetry,  Bells,  Illuminations,  Can- 
non, Regattas,  Banners,  Hallelujahs,  and  Huzzas.— The  Beauty,  Utility,  and  Magnificence  of  the 
Orient  and  Occident,  in  Boundless  Combinations.  —The  "  Glorious  Fourth "  All  Over  the  Land.— 
Congratulatory  Letter  from  the  Emperor  of  Germany  689 


SUBJECT. 
HO.  I 

1.  SIGNING  THE  DECLARATION  OP  INDEPEND- 

ENCE (FRONTISPIECE) 

2.  Preface,  --------- 

3.  The  Opened  Pa  gee,       ------ 

4.  Symbolical  Head-piece,       -       -       -       -       - 
6.  Genius  of  Art,       ------- 

6.  Kinging  of  the  Bell,  July  4th,  1776,  - 

7.  Hall  of  Independence,  Philadelphia,  1776, 

8  Hoisting  First  Naval  Flag,  -       -       -       -       - 

9.  John  Paul  Jones;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

10.  FIBST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORV, 

11.  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY,  MAY  19, 1780,  - 

12.  Traveling  during  the  Dark  Day,       - 

13.  Change  of  Scene  after  the  Dark  Day, 

14.  The  House  where  Cornwallis  Surrendered 
16.  Arnold's  Reward  for  Treason,    - 

16.  Capture  of  Major  Andre,     -       -       -       -       - 

17.  General  Arnold,  with  Autograph, 

18.  West  Point  in  1780, 

19.  Arnold's  Head-quarters,      -       -       -       -       - 

20.  CORNWALLIS'S  SURRENDER,       -          -         -         - 

21.  Cornwallis;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

22.  Washington's  Sword,   ------ 

23.  The  Washington  Elm,  Cambridge,  Mass., 

24.  WASHINGTON'S  RESIGNATION,  -      -       -       - 

25.  Amity  between  England  and  America,    - 

26.  George  the  Third;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

27.  FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND,— RECEPTION 

OF  JOHN  ADAMS,    ------ 

28.  John  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

29.  Enrolling  the  Constitution,       - 

30.  CONVENTION  AT  PHILADELPHIA,  1787,    - 

31.  Franklin  Pleading  for  Pacification,  - 

32.  Washington's  Inauguration  Bible,    -       -       - 

33.  FIRST  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT, 

34.  Presidential  Mansion,  1789,       -       -       -       - 
38.  Presidential  Mansion,  11-76,       -       -       -       - 

36.  Treating  with  the  Indians,  -       -       -       -       - 

37.  WAYNE'S  DEFEAT  OF  THE  INDIANS, 

38.  Anthony  Wayne;  Portrait  and  Autograph, 

39.  General  St.  Glair;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    - 

40.  "Little  Turtle;"  Portrait,        -       -       -       - 

41.  Results  of  the  Cotton-Gin, 

42.  ELI  WHITNEY'S  COTTON-GIN,  1793,  -       -       - 

43.  Eli  Whitney;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     - 

44.  Causes  of  the  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Penn., 

46.  Famous  Whiskey  Insurrection  in  Pennsylvania,  106 

46.  David  Bradford;  Portrait,  -       ... 

47.  General  Henry  Lee;  Portrait,     -       -       - 

48.  WASHINGTON,  D.  C.,  IN  1876,     -       -       - 

49.  National  Capitol  in  1876,      -       -       -       - 

60.    Symbolic  Statue  of  Amei  lea,  on  the  U.S.Capitol,  117 


OE. 

no. 

61. 

62. 

7 

63. 

9 

M. 

10 

66. 

22 

26 

66. 

27 

67. 

32 

34 

58. 

36 

69. 

39 

60. 

40 

61. 

44 

62. 

66 

63. 

46 

64. 

60 

65. 

61 

66. 

62 

67. 

63 

68. 

B7 

69. 

61 

70. 

63 

71. 

66 

72. 

66 

73. 

70 

74. 

71 

75. 

76. 

73 

77. 

74 

78. 

77 

79. 

79 

80. 

81 

81. 

84 

86 

82. 

88 

83. 

88 

84. 

91 

93 

86. 

96 

86. 

96 

87. 

97 

88. 

98 

89. 

100 

90. 

102 

91. 

106 

92. 

106 

93. 

109 

94. 

111 

95. 

116 

96. 

117 

97. 

,  117 

98. 

Martha  Washington;  Portrait  anil  Autograph,  120 

DEATH  OF  WASHINGTON,  DECEMBER  14, 1799,  122 

George  Washington,  as  Colonel,  -  -  -  123 

George  Washington,  General  C.  S.  A.,  -  -  124 
George  Washington,  President  of  the  United 

States;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  -  124 

Tomb  of  Washington, 125 

Scene  of  the  Burr  and  Hamilton  Duel,  Wee- 

hawken, 131 

Hamilton's  Tomb, 127 

Aaron  Burr,  with  Autograph,  -  -  -  -  128 

Alexander  Hamilton  with  Autograph,  -  -  128 

TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE,  IN  1806,  -  -  -  136 

Progress  of  the  Solar  Eclipse,  -  -  -  -  130 

TOTAL  ECLIPSE,  IN  1869, 137 

Eclipse,  as  seen  in  Brazil,  -----  140 

Burr's  Flight, 142 

BREAKING  UP  OF  BURR'S  EXPEDITION,  -  -  146 

Burr  and  His  Deluded  Followers,  -  -  -  146 

Theodosia;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  -  148 

First  Steam-boat  on  the  Hudson,  -  -  -  150 

Robert  Fulton;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  151 

FULTON'S  FIRST  STEAM-BOAT,  -  -  -  163 

After  the  Earthquake,  -----  186 

Scene  of  the  Great  Earthquake  in  the  West,  -  158 

EARTHQUAKE  SCENE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO,  -  161 

Perry's  Flag  on  Lake  Erie,  -  163 

Commodore  Perry  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  165 

BATTLE  OF  LAKE  ERIE,— PERRY'S  VICTORY,  167 

General  Harrison;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  170 

American  Defenses  at  New  Orleans,  -  -  171 

Andrew  Jackson;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  174 
BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS,  —  JACKSON'S 

TERRIFIC  SLAUGHTER  OF  THE  BRITISH,  -  17C 

Destruction  by  the  Great  Gale  and  Flood,  -  178 
The  Ever-Memorable  Gale,  September  23, 1825,  180 
Horrors  of  the  Whirlwind  throughout  New 

England,    --------183 

The  Landing  of  Lafayette  at  New  York,          -  186 

Lafayette;  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -       -  188 

Sword  of  Honor  Presented  to  Lafayette,          -  190 

Lafayette's  Residence,         -----  101 

Lafayette's  Birthplace,        -----  lay 

Lafayette's  Tomb,         ------  195 

Preliminaries  of  the  Code  of  Honor,  -  -  196 

Henry  Clay;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  -  198 

John  Randolph;  Portrait  antl  Autograph,  -  200 

DUELING-GROUND  AT  BLADENSBUHG,  -  -  202 

The  Victor's  Wreath, 206 

Robert  Y.  Hayne;  Portrait,  -  207 

Daniel  Webster;  Portrait,  -  209 

Webster's  Reply  to  Hayne,  -  -  •  21S 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


JC. 

99. 

too. 

101. 
102. 
103. 

104. 
105. 

106. 
107. 
108. 

109. 
110. 

111. 
112. 
113. 
114. 
115. 

116. 
117. 

118. 

119. 

120. 
121. 
122. 
123. 

124. 

125. 
126. 
127. 
128. 
129. 

180. 
131. 

132. 


133. 

134. 
135. 
136. 
137. 

138. 
139. 

140. 

141. 

142. 
143. 
144. 
145. 

146. 
147. 

148. 
149. 

150. 


PAGE. 

Joseph  Smith;  Portrait  and  Autograph,         -  216 

Brigham  Young;  I'ortrait  and  Autograph,     •  218 

Mormon  Temple,         ------  220 

SALT  LAKE  CITY,  THE  MORMON  Ziox,  -       -  221 
Appeal  of  a  Beautiful  Girl  to  Gibbs  to  Spare 

her  Life, 222 

Pirate  Gibbs;  I'ortrait, 224 

GIBBS  BUTCHERING  THE  CREW  OF  ONE  OF 

HIS  PRIZES,      -              226 

METEORIC  SHOWER  AT  BOSTON,     -  228 
Meteoric  Shower,  as  seen  at  Niagara  Falls,    -  230 
Remarkable  Meteoric  Display  on  the  Missis- 
sippi,    233 

The  Preservation,        ------  236 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT 

JACKSON, 238 

Richard  Lawrence;  Portrait,    -       -       -       -  240 

Hanging  the  Telegraph  Wire,                          -  244 

THE  ORIGINAL  TELEGRAPHIC  INSTRUMENT,  246 

Professor  Morse;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -  248 
Orders    of   Glory    Conferred    on   Professor 

Morse, 250 

Monster  Petition  to  Congress,                          -  252 

John  Quincy  Adams;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  254 
JOHN  QUINCY    ADAMS    DEFENDING    THB 

EIGHT  OF  FF.TITION  IN  CONGRESS,  -  -  258 
Safe  Place  for  the  Key  to  Public  Funds,  -  263 
Thomas  H.  Benton;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  265 
Fac-Simile  Copy  of  Expunging  Resolution,  -  2OT 
Singular  Form  of  Auroral  Arch,  -  269 
MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  OF  NO- 
VEMBER 13  AND  14,  1837,  -  271 

View  of  the  Aurora  Borealis  in  its  early  Stages,  274 

Effect  of  the  Temperance  Reformation,         -  276 

Signing  the  Pledge,     ------  279 

DISTINGUISHED  TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATES,  282 

Exploring  the  North-west,        -       -       -       -  286 

Planting  American  Flag  on  the  Rocky  Mount- 

aiuB,  by  Fremont,    .-----  287 

John  C.  Fremont;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  288 
Fremont  on  his  Great  Exploring  Tour  to  the 

Far  West  and  Rocky  Mountains,       -       -  289 
Mutiny  on  Board  the  United  States  Brig  Som- 
ers;  Hanging  of  the  Ringleaders  from  the 

Yard-arm,  --------  297 

The  Black  Flag  Intended  to  be  Raised  on 

Board  the  United  States  Brig  Somers,       -  291 

Commodore  MacKenzie,  with  Autograph,      -  293 

Midshipman  Spencer,  with  Autograph,  -       -  296 

View  of  the  Comet  when  Nearest  the  Earth,  303 
APPEARANCE    OF   THE    COMET   IN    FULL 

SPLENDOR,       -------  304 

Telescopic  View  of  the  Comet,       ...  306 
The  Great  Day  Prophesied    by  the  Second 
Adventists,       -------307 

SYMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  THE  SEC- 
OND ADVENT  PROPHECIES,  -  309 
William  Miller;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      •  313 
Stockton's  Great  Gun,  the  "Peacemaker,"  -  315 
President  Tyler;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  316 
Secretary  Gilmer;    Portrait  and  Autograph,  318 
Explosion  of  the  Great  Gun  on  Board  the 

United  States  Steamship  Princeton,   -       -  319 
Secretary  Upshur;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  320 
Commodore    Stockton;    Portrait   and   Auto- 
graph,       --------  322 

Relieving  Pain  by  the  Use  of  Ether,      -       -  324 
The   Three  Claimants  of  the  Discovery  of 

Painless  Surgery,  by  Ether,  -       -       -       -  326 

MONUMENT  ERECTED  IN  HONOR   OF   THE 

DISCOVERY  OF  ETHER,  -----  330 


SUBJECT. 
ire.  Fiot. 

15  .    The  Inventor  Toiling  in  His  Garret,       -       -    332 

152.  Elias  Howe,  Jr.;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -    3M 

153.  THE  OLD  AND  NEW:  SEWING  BY  HAND  AND 

MACHINE,         .-..._.    335 

154.  House  in  which  Spiritual  Rappings  Originated,  340 

155.  The  Misses  Fox;  Portraits,  -    342 

156.  D.  D.  Home;  Portrait, 343 

157.  Cora  L.  V.  Hatch;  Portrait,  -    345 

158.  Spiritual  Autograph  of  Lord  Bacon,       -       -    34B 

159.  A.  J.  Davis;  Portrait,       -----    346 
180.    Judge  Edmonds;  Portrait,  -    345 

161 .  Spiritual  Autograph  of  Swedenborg.      -       -    345 

162.  STORMING  OF  CHAPULTEPEC,  -       -       -       .347 

163.  Proident  Polk;  Portrait  and  Autograph       •    S4& 

164.  General  Taylor;  Portrait  and  Autojraph,      -    349 

165.  Santa  Anna;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -       -    360 

16  .    General  Scott;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -    351 

167.  GENERAL  SCOTT'S  GRAND  ENTRANCE  INTO 

THE  MEXICAN  CAPITAL,  -   352 

168.  Lieutenant  Lynch;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    366 

169.  VALLEY  OF  THE  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA,  -   367 

170.  Right  Bank  of  the  Dead  Sea,  -    368 

171.  Mining  Operations  in  California,  -    360 

172.  SUTTER'S  MILL,  WHERE  GOLD  WAS  FIRST 

DISCOVERED  IN  1848.      -----   362 

173.  John  A.  Sutter;  Portrait, 363 

175.    James  W.  Marshall;  Portrait,  ...       -    366 

175.  Struck  with  the  Cholera, 368 

176.  MONUMENT  TO  THE  VICTIMS  OF  CHOLERA,  -   370 

177.  Horrors  of  the  Great  Epidemic,       -       -       -    372 

178.  Professor  Webster's  Murder  Appliances,       -    376 

179.  Doctor  Parkman;  Portrait  and  Autograph,   -    378 

180.  Professor  Webster;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    380 

181.  PROFESSOR  WEBSTER'S  CELL  IN  PRISON,     -   382 

182.  Jenny  Lind;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    -       -    388 

183.  P.  T.  Barnum;  Portrait  and  Autograph,       -    390 

184.  Jenny  Lind's  Appearance  at  Castle  Garden,    392 

185.  Double  Execution  in  San  Francisco,       -       -    395 

186.  Seal  of  the  California  Vigilance  Committee,    397 

187.  EXECUTIONS  BY  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMIT- 

TEE, IN  SAN  FRANCISCO,  -   400 

188.  George  Steers;  Portrait,     -----    406 

189.  YACHT  AMERICA;  J.  C.  STEVENS,  COMMO- 

DORE,       ..------407 

190.  "  Cup  of  All  Nations,"  Won  by  the  America,    409 

191.  United  States  Steamer  Mississippi,  convey- 

ing Kossuth, 412 

192.  Governor  Kossuth;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    414 

193.  GRAND  MILITARY  RECEPTION  OF  GOVERN- 

OR KOSSUTH  is  NEW  YORK,       -      -       -   417 

194.  Interior  of  the  World's  Fair,  New  York,       -    421 
196.    Theodore  Sedgwick ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,    423 

196.  CRYSTAL  PALACE  OF  NEW  YORK,  FOR  THE 

EXHIBITION  OF  THE  INDUSTRIES  OF  ALL 
NATIONS,  --------428 

197.  Steamship,  Arctic,       ------    429 

198.  Loss  OF  THB  COLLINS   STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC 

BY    COLLISION   AT     NOONDAY   IN   MID- 
OCEAN,       .-------    433 

199.  Assault  on  Senator  Sumner,  by  P.  S.  Brooks,    443 

200.  Liberty  for  Kansas,     ------    437 

201.  Hon.  Charles  Sumner,  with  Autograph,       -    441 

202.  Hon.  P.  S.  Brooks,  with  Autograph,       -       -    444 

203.  Hon.  A.  P.  Butler,  with  Autograph,       -       -    48« 

204.  Run  on  a  Bank,   -------    «," 

205.  EXCITEMENT  IN  BUSINESS  CIRCLES  DURINO 

THE  GREAT  PANIC.       -  ...   449 

206.  Effects  of  the  Hard  Times.  -       -    4M 

207.  Book  of  Requests  for  Prayers,  -    466 

208.  Group  of  Eminent  Revival  Preachers,  dur- 

ing the  National  Century,      -       -       -       •    4«8 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


MO.  PAOE. 

-'09.  Dwight  L.  Moody  ;  Portrait,                            -  464 

210.  Ira  D.  Sankey;  Portrait,    -                             -  464 

211.  REVIVAL  MEETINGS,  MOODY  AND  SANKEY,  466 

:;12.  State  Capital  of  Illinois, 469 

-'13.  DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN-  AND  DOUGLAS,  470 

214.  Stephen  A.  Douglas;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  474 

215.  Petroleum  Wells,         ------  476 

216  Petroleum  Wells  in  Pennsylvania,  -       -       -  478 

•217.  Process  of  Boring  for  Petroleum,     •       -       -  479 

218.  BUKNINGOFONE  OF  TUB  GREAT  Oil,  WELLS,  482 

21.1.  Japanese  Box  Containing  the  Treaty,     -       -  485 

220.  RECEPTION  OF  THE  EMBASSY  FROM  JAPAN,  487 

221.  Ambassadors    Simmi  Boojsen    Nokauii    and 

Mooragaki  Awajsi  Nokami,    -  491 

22-'.  The  Prince  of  Wales  at  Washington's  Tomb,  494 

223.  Prince  of  Wales;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  495 

224.  BALL  GIVEN  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES,      -  498 

225.  Flag  of  Fort  Sumter  after  the  Bombardment,  502 

226.  Major  Anderson,  with  Autograph,    -       -        -  503 

227.  General  Beauregard,  with  Autograph,    -       -  505 

228.  Interior  of  Fort  Sumter  after  Bombardment,  507 

229.  "Cruiser"  Untamed, 509 

230.  John  S.  Karey;  Portrait,    -----  511 

231.  Mr.  Earey's  Method  of  Taming  Horses,  -       -  514 

232.  Monument  on  the  Bull  Hun  Battle-field,        -  518 

233.  General  McDowell;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  519 

234.  General  Johnson  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  521 

235.  BATTLE  OF  BULL  BUN,     -                            -  623 

236.  Interior  of  the  Tower  of  the  Monitor,      -       -  526 

237.  Com.  Buchanan  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,     -  528 

238.  Combat  between  the  Merrimac  and  Monitor,  531 

239.  Lieut.  Worden  ;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  533 
24".  Burying  the  Dead  at  Antietam,                       -  535 

241.  General  McClellan;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  537 

242.  General  Burnside;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  538 

243.  BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,     -----  539 

244.  General  "  Stonewall "  Jackson;  Portrait,      -  540 

245.  General  Hooker;  Portrait  and  Autograph,      -  841 

246.  Pen  used  in  Signing  the  Proclamation,  -       -  544 

247.  Secretary  Seward;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  -  545 

248.  Secretary  Stanton;  Portrait  and  Autograph,  546 

249.  President  Lincoln;  Portrait  anil  Autograph,  547 

250.  PBOCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,       -       -  549 
351.  Operations  at  Vicksburg,    -----  554 

252.  General  J.  C.  Pernberton,  -----  656 

253.  SlEOE  AT  VlCKSBUBG    BY  GENERAL  GRANT,  557 

254.  General  McPherson;  Portrait,                         -  559 
265.  Interview  between  Grant  and  Pemberton,      -  560 

256.  General  Meade's  Head-quarters,       -  563 

257.  General  Meade,  with  Autograph,     -       -       -  665 

258.  Battle  of  Gettysburg,  ------  667 

259.  General  Longstreet,  with  Autograph,     -       -  689 

260.  Soldiers'  Monument  at  Gettysburg,         -       -  571 

261.  Henry  Ward  Beecher;   Vignette  Portrait,      -  573 

262.  BEECHER    DEFENDING    THE    AMERICAN 

UNION,  IN  EXETER  HALL,  LONDON,    -       -  575 

263.  Mr.  Beecher's  Church,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,         -  679 
201.  Merchant  Vessel  burned  by  the  Alabama,      -  581 
205.  Captain  Serames,  with  Autograph,  -       -       -  583 
2ii6.  Captain  Winsjow,  with  Autograph,  -       -       -  685 
2i>7.  Contest  between  the  Kearsarge  and  Alabama,  587 
268.  Farragut's  Flag-Ship,  "  Hartford,"  -               -590 
2(».  Admiral  Farragut,       -               -       -  ,    -       -  591 
2T".  Admiral  Porter,    -------  591 

271.  Admiral  Foote,                                    ,       -       -  591 

272.  Admiral  Dupont,  ...       -                        -  591 

273.  Admiral  Farragut's  Victory  in  Mobile  Bay,  -  594 

274.  Head-quarters  Atlanta,  Ga.,      -       -       -       -  598 

275.  General  Sherman;  Portrait  and  Autoflra/ih,  -  «00 
27fi.  Sherman's  Grand  March  through  the  South,  602 
277.  General  Lee's  Surrender  to  Lieut.  Gen.  Grant,  607 


SUBJECT. 
NO.  PAOK. 

278.  Richmond  Entered  by  the  Union  Army,         -  610 

279.  Lincoln's  Early  Home,        -----  617 

280.  Ford's  Theater  at  Washington,         -       -       -  618 
261.  ASSASSINATION  OF  I'KKSIDENT  LINCOLN,     -  620 

282.  House  where  Lincoln  died,         -       -       -       -  621 

283.  J-  Wikes  Booth;  I'ortrait  and  Autoyraph,      -  622 

284.  Lincoln's  Residence  at  Springfield,  111.,  -       -  623 
:>.'.  .Sergeant  Boston  Corbett;  Portrait,  -       -       -  624 

286.  Burial  Place  of  Lincoln,     -----  626 

287.  Section  of  the  Atlantic  Cable,  -       -       -       -  629 

288.  Cyrus  W.  Field;  Portrait  anil  Autograph,       -  631 

289.  Arrival  of  the  Great  Eastern  with  Cable,       -  635 

290.  Mountain  Scene  on  the  Pacific  Kailroad,       -  648 

291.  COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD,     -  641 

292.  Traveler's  Dependence  in  Ulden  Times,  -       -  645 

293.  Locomotive  "  Rocket,"       -----  646 

294.  Locomotive  of  To-day, 647 

295.  Original  Steam  Car,     ------  648 

296.  Modern  Railway  Car, 649 

297.  METROPOLITAN  ELEVATED  RAILROAD, N.Y.,  652 

298.  Mr.  Ogden's  House  Untouched  in  the  Midst 

of  the  Great  Fire, 663 

299.  BURNING  OF  CHICAGO,  OCT.  8  AND  9,  1871,    -  657 

300.  EMBLEM  OF  INDUSTRY;   Vignette,    -       -       -  660 

301.  Symbols  of  Co-operative  Labor  Organizations,  662 

302.  SPIRIT  OF  THE  GRANGE  MOVEMENT,     -       -  664 

303.  THE  SCHOOL-HOUSE  AS  IT  WAS,       -       -       -  667 

304.  Yale  College  in  1784,    ------  668 

305.  Old  King's  College, 668 

306.  First  Harvard  College, 668 

307.  North-Western  University,       -       -       -       -  669 

308.  Normal  School,  New  York,                               -  670 

309.  View  of  Yale  College  Grounds,  -       -       -       -  672 

310.  View  of  Harvard  College  Grounds,  -       -       -  673 

311.  The  Great  Catholic  Cathedral,  New  York,     -  675 

312.  Archbishop  McCloskey;  Portrait,    -       -       -  676 

313.  CONSECRATION   OF   THE   FIRST  AMERICAN 

CARDINAL,        -------  678 

314.  Electric  Lamp,      -                                         -       -  681 

315.  ELECTRIC  LIGHT  AT  SEA,  -----  683 

316.  Thomas  A.  Edison,  with  Autograph,       -       -  684 

317.  The  Phonograph,         ------  685 

318.  House  in  which  Jefferson  wrote  the  Declara- 

tion of  Independence,      -       -              -  689 

319.  OPENING  OF  THE  CENTENNIAL  EXHIBITION,  691 

320.  The  Corliss  Engine,                                            -  692 

321.  EXHIBITION  BUILDINGS  IN  PHILADELPHIA,  694 

322.  INDEPENDENCE  HALL,  JULY  4,  1876,      -       -  695 

323.  UNION  SQUARE,  NEW  YORK,  JULY  4,  1876,    -  697 

324.  READING  THE  ORIGINAL  DECLARATION  OF 

INDEPENDENCE,  JULY  4,  1876,      -       -       -  699 

326.  Entrance  of  the  N.  Y.  7th  Regiment,       -       -  701 
326  State  Avenue,  at  the  Centennial,     -  702 

327.  Woman's  Pavilion,  at  the  Centennial,    -       -  703 

328.  The  Tunisian  Tent,  at  the  Centennial,   -       -  704 

329.  ALL  HAIL  TO  THE  HEREAFTER!      -  706 

330.  Flag  of  the  German  Empire,     -       -       -       -  707 

331.  EMPEROR  WILLIAM,  with  Autograph,    -       -  707 

332.  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD,  -  709 

333.  View  of  Garfleld's  Home  at  Mentor,       -       -  710 

334.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Garfield,         -       -       -       -  711 

335.  Portrait  of  Prest.  Garfleld's  Mother,      -       -  714 

336.  Portraits  of  Drs.  Agnew,  Hamilton  and  Bliss,  716 

337.  Francklyn  Cottage,  Elberon,    -                      -  717 
S3B.  Portrait  of  President  Garfleld,        -       -       -  718 

339.  Death  of  President  Garfleld,    -       -       -       -  720 

340.  Body  Lying  in  State  in  the  Capitol  Rotunda,  722 

341.  Viewing  the  Remains  at  Cleveland,  O.,  -       -  724 

342.  Receiving  Vault, -  725 

343.  Lake  View  Cemetery,         -       ....  726 
144.  "  Victoria's "  Flora)  Offering,  -       -       •       -  726 


I. 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC.— 1776. 


Declaration  of  American  Independence  and  National  Sovereignty,  July  Fourth,  1776. — The  Gauntlet  of 
Defiance  thrown  at  the  Feet  of  the  British  Empire  by  Her  Youngest  Colonies. — Vast  Disparity,  in 
Power  and  Resources,  between  the  Contestants. — The  whole  World  looks  on  Astonished.  —  Seven 
Years'  Bloody  and  Desolating  War. — The  American  Cause  Triumphant. — Grandest  Modern  Event. — 
America  Resists  Unjust  Taxation.— Haughty  Obstinacy  of  King  George.— Burning  Eloquence  of  Pat- 
rick  Henry. — Hid  Summons,  "  We  Must  Fight." — Washington  Endorses  this  Sentiment. — Determina- 
tion of  the  People. — War  Preferred  to  Submission. — Momentous  Action  by  Congress. — Separation 
from  England  Decreed. — Effect  of  the  Act  in  America. — Its  Reception  in  England. — Excitement  of  the 
King  and  Court. — Lord  Chatham,  America's  Advocate. — His  Passionate  Change  of  Views. — Scorch- 
ing Speech  against  the  Colonies.— He  is  Struck  Dead  while  Speaking.— Magnanimity  of  Burke  and 
Fox.— Recognition  from  France  Secured.— Her  Timely  Aid  in  the  Struggle.— Victories  over  the 
British  Armies.— England  Gives  Up  the  Contest.— World-wide  Welcome  to  the  New  Nation. 


••  It  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  generations,  as  the  great  anniversary  festival.  It  ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  of  deliverance, 
ov  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to  Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized  with  pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games,  sports,  gun§,  belli,  bon- 
ureB  and  illuminations,  from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other,  from  this  time  forth,  forevermore.  '—JOHN  ADAMS. 


EINOISO  OF  THE  BELL,  JULY  4,  1776. 


NE    HUNDRED   YEARS  ago,  namely,  on 
the  Fourth  of  July,  1776,  there  was  born  in 
the  western  world  a  New  Nation, — the  RE- 
PUBLIC OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.     Defiance  lo 
tyrants  was  emblazoned  in  empyreal  light  upon 
her  brow,  and  Freedom  and  Justice  were  the 
frontlets  between  her  eyes.    Mon- 
archs,  crowned  with  kingly  dia- 
dems, stood  awed  at  the  august 
manifesto,  and  at  the  solemn  ar- 
raignment of  King  George  before 
the   judgment  of   mankind,  and 
parliaments  and  cabinets  started 
in  dismay  to  their  feet ;  but  the 
People,  as  they  descried  the  eagle 
of  Liberty  spreading  her  wings, 
and  soaring  proudly  aloft,  breath- 
ed freer  and  took  stronger  heart, 
as  the  clear    ring   of   her   voice 
sounded  through   the  air,  declar- 
ing, with  grandly  rounded  enun- 
ciation, that  "  all  men  are  created 
equal." 


Refusing  to  pay  the  tribute  of  taxation  arbitrarily  imposed 
upon  them  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  by  the  British  crown, — 


26 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC. 


failing,  too,  to  move  the  king  and  his  min- 
isters from  their  career  of  haughty  and 
reckless  obstinacy, — the  thirteen  American 
colonies  found  themselves  reduced  to  the 
alternative  of  abject  submission  to  their 
so-called  royal  masters,  or  of  armed  resist- 
ance. Already  there  had  flashed  through- 
out the  country  the  electric  words  of  Pat- 
rick Henry,  "  We  must  fight !  An  appeal 
to  arms  and  to  the  God  of  Hosts  is  all 
that  is  left  us.  I  repeat  it,  sir,  we  must 
fight!"  And  as  the  blood  of  patriot 
hearts  had  now  flowed  freely  and  bravely 
at  Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker 
Hill,  Washington  declared,  in  words  of 
solemn  emphasis  and  characteristic  brevity, 
"  Nothing  short  of  INDEPENDENCE,  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  can  possibly  do."  He  also 
warmly  approved  and  commended  Paine's 
pamphlet,  "  Common  Sense,"  written  to 
this  end.  The  sons  of  liberty  shouted  their 
responsive  acclaim  to  this  manly  summons 
from  the  great  American  soldier — Wash- 
ington— and,  like  the  sound  of  many  wa- 
ters, the  spirit  of  national  independence 
which  thus  possessed  the  people  came  upon 
the  continental  congress,  then  in  session  in 
the  state-house  at  Philadelphia,  Pennsyl- 
vania. 

It  was  in  this  temple  of  freedom,  where- 
in was  sitting  as  noble  and  august  a  legis- 
lative body  as  the  world  ever  saw,  that 
Richard  Henry  Lee  introduced  a  resolu- 
tion, on  the  7th  of  June,  1776,  declaring, 
"  That  the  United  Colonies  are  and  ought 
to  be  free  and  independent  States,  and  that 
their  political  connection  with  Great  Brit- 
ain is  and  ought  to  be  dissolved."  Upon 
this  resolution  there  sprang  up  at  once  an 
earnest  and  powerful  debate.  It  was  op- 
posed, principally,  on  the  ground  that  it 
was  premature.  Some  of  the  best  and 
strongest  advocates  of  colonial  rights  spoke 
and  voted  against  the  motion,  which  at  last 
was  adopted  only  by  a  vote  of  seven  States 
in  its  favor  to  six  against.  Some  of  the 
delegates  had  not  received  definite  instruc- 
tions from  their  constituents,  and  others 
had  been  requested  to  vote  against  it.  Its 
further  consideration  was  accordingly  post- 
poned until  there  was  a  prospect  of  greater 


unanimity.  On  the  eleventh  of  June, 
therefore,  a  committee  was  appointed  to 
draft  a  formal  Declaration  ;  this  commit- 
tee consisting  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  John 
Adams,  Thomas  Jefferson,  Roger  Sherman, 
and  Robert  R.  Livingston. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  June,  the  com- 
mittee made  their  report,  and  presented 
the  Declaration  which  they  had  drawn  up. 
The  first  or  original  draft  was  penned  by 
Mr.  Jefferson,  chairman  of  the  committee. 
On  the  second  of  July,  congress  proceeded 
to  the  serious  consideration  of  this  mo- 
mentous paper ;  the  discussion,  as  to  the 
tone  and  statements  characterizing  the 
document,  and  the  propriety  of  adopting 
at  that  time  a  measure  so  decisive,  lasted 
for  nearly  three  days,  and  was  extremely 
earnest.  It  was  so  powerfully  opposed  by 
some  of  the  members,  that  Jefferson  com- 
pared the  opposition  to  "  the  ceaseless  ac- 
tion of  gravity,  weighing  upon  us  by  night 
and  by  day."  Its  supporters,  however, 
were  the  leading  minds,  and  urged  its 
adoption  with  masterly  eloquence  and  abil- 
ity. John  Adams,  Jefferson  asserts,  was 
"  the  colossus  in  that  debate,"  and  "  fought 
fearlessly  for  every  word  of  it."  The  bond 
which  was  formed  between  those  two  great 
men  on  this  occasion  seems  never  to  have 
been  completely  severed,  both  of  them 
finally  expiring,  with  a  sort  of  poetic  jus- 
tice, on  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  act 
which  constituted  their  chief  glory. 

Well  and  truly  did  the  mighty  patriot 
Adams  characterize  this  event  as  the  most 
memorable  epoch  in  the  history  of  Amer- 
ica. "  I  am  apt  to  believe,"  said  he,  "  that 
it  will  be  celebrated  by  succeeding  genera- 
tions, as  the  great  anniversary  festival.  It 
ought  to  be  commemorated  as  the  day  of 
deliverance,  by  solemn  acts  of  devotion  to 
Almighty  God.  It  ought  to  be  solemnized 
with  pomp  and  parade,  with  shows,  games, 
sports,  guns,  bells,  bonfires  and  illumina- 
tions, from  one  end  of  this  continent  to 
the  other,  from  this  time  forth  forever- 
more  ! "  The  result  has  equaled  the  great 
patriot's  wishes.  Tradition  gives  a  dra- 
matic effect  to  its  announcement.  It  was 
known,  throughout  the  city,  that  the  great 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC. 


27 


event  was  to  be  determined  that  day,  by 
the  last  formal  acts ;  but  the  closed  doors 
of  congress  excluded  the  populace  from 
witnessing  the  august  assembly  or  its  pro- 
ceedings, though  thousands  of  anxious 
citizens  had  gathered  around  the  building, 
eager  to  hear  the  words  of  national  des- 
tiny soon  to  be  officially  proclaimed.  From 
the  hour  when  congress  came  together  in 
the  forenoon,  all  business  was  suspended 
throughout  the  city,  and  the  old  bellman 
steadily  remained  at  his  post  in  the  steeple, 
prepared  to  sound  forth  to  the  waiting 
multitudes  the  expected  glad  tidings.  He 
had  even  stationed  a  boy  at  the  door  of  the 
hall  below,  to  give  immediate  signal  of  the 
turn  of  events.  This  bell,  manufactured 


felt  such  a  professional  pride,  the  electri- 
fied old  patriot  rung  forth  such  a  joyous 
peal  as  wad  never  heard  before,  nor  ceased 
to  hurl  it  backward  and  forward,  till  every 
voice  joined  in  its  notes  of  gladness  and 
triumph.  The  roar  of  cannon,  and  illu- 
minations from  every  house  and  hill-top, 
added  to  these  demonstrations  of  uni- 
versal rejoicing. 

And  this  was  the  type  of  that  exultation 
which  everywhere  manifested  itself,  as  the 
news  spread  with  lightning  rapidity  from 
city  to  city  and  from  State  to  State.  Every 
American  patriot  regarded  the  declaration 
by  congress  as  the  noble  performance  of 
an  act  which  had  become  inevitable ;  and 
the  paper  itself  as  the  complete  vindica- 


HAI.T,  OF  INDEPENDENCE,  PHILADELPHIA,  1776. 


in  England,  bore  upon  its  ample  curve  the 
now  prophetic  inscription,  "Proclaim  lib- 
erty throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof."  Hours  passed  on, 
and  fear  began  to  take  the  place  of  hope 
in  many  a  heart ;  even  the  venerable  and 
always  cheerful  bellman  was  overheard  in 
his  despondent  soliloquy,  "  They  will  never 
do  it!  they  will  never  do  it!"  Finally, 
at  about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
the  door  of  the  mysterious  hall  swung 
open,  and  a  voice  exclaimed,  "  Passed ! — 
it  has  passed  ! "  The  word  was  caught  up 
by  ten  thousand  glad  mouths,  and  the 
watch-boy  now  clapped  his  hands  and 
shouted,  "  Ring !  Ring ! "  Seizing  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  in  which  he  had  long 


tion  of  America  before  the  bar  of  public 
opinion  throughout  the  world.  When  it 
was  read  by  the  magistrates  and  other 
functionaries,  in  the  cities  and  towns  of 
the  whole  nation,  it  was  greeted  with 
shouts,  bonfires,  and  processions.  It  was 
read  to  the  troops,  drawn  up  under  erms, 
and  to  the  congregations  in  churches  by 
ministers  from  the  pulpit.  Washington 
hailed  the  declaration  with  joy.  It  is 
true,  it  was  but  a  formal  recognition  of  a 
state  of  things  which  had  long  existed,  but 
it  put  an  end  to  all  those  temporizing  hopes 
of  reconciliation  which  had  clogged  the 
military  action  of  the  country.  On  the 
ninth  of  July,  therefore,  Washington 
caused  it  to  be  read  at  six  o'clock  in  the 


28 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC. 


evening,  at  the  head  of  each  brigade  of 
the  armj'.  "  The  general  hopes,"  said  he 
in  his  orders,  "  that  this  important  event 
will  serve  as  a  fresh  incentive  to  every 
officer  and  soldier,  to  act  with  fidelity  and 
courage,  as  knowing  that  now  the  peace 
and  safety  of  his  country  depend,  under 
God,  solely  on  the  success  of  our  arms ; 
and  that  he  is  now  in  the  service  of  a 
State,  possessed  of  sufficient  power  to  re- 
ward his  merit,  and  advance  him  to  the 
highest  honors  of  a  free  country."  The 
troops  listened  to  the  reading  of  this  with 
eager  attention,  and  at  its  close  broke  forth 
in  tumultuous  applause. 

The  excitable  populace  of  New  York 
were  not  content  with  the  ringing  of  bells 
and  the  other  usual  manifestations  of 
public  joy.  There  was  a  leaden  eques- 
trian statue  of  George  the  Third  in  the 
Bowling  Green,  in  front  of  the  fort. 
Around  this  kingly  effigy  the  excited  mul- 
titude, surging  hither  and  thither,  unit- 
edly gathered,  and  pulling  it  down  to  the 
ground,  broke  it  into  fragments,  which 
fragments  were  afterwards  conveniently 
molded  into  bullets  and  made  to  do  service 
against  his  majesty's  troops.  Some  of  the 
soldiers  and  officers  of  the  American  army 
having  joined  in  this  proceeding,  Wash- 
ington censured  it,  as  having  much  the 
appearance  of  a  riot  and  a  want  of  disci- 
pline, and  the  army  was  ordered  to  abstain, 
in  the  future,  fr^m  all  irregularities  of  the 
kind. 

In  Boston,  that  citadel  of  radical  insub- 
ordination to  "his  majesty,"  the  public 
joy  knew  no  bounds,  and  even  the  British 
prisoners  were  courteously  summoned  to 
witness  the  spirit  with  which  a  brave  peo- 
ple, determined  to  be  free,  dared  to  defy 
the  British  throne.  On  the  seventeenth 
of  July  the  British  officers  on  parole  re- 
ceived each  a  card  from  the  governor,  re- 
questing the  honor  of  said  officer's  attend- 
ance at  a  specified  hour  on  the  morrow,  in 
the  town  hall.  As  rumors  were  pretty 
well  afloat,  however,  touching  the  decided 
step  that  had  been  taken  at  Philadelphia, 
the  officers  were  not  without  a  suspicion  as 
to  the  purport  of  the  meeting,  and  hesi- 


tated for  a  while  as  to  the  consistency  of 
giving  the  sanction  of  their  presence  to  a 
proceeding  which  they  could  not  but  re- 
gard as  traitorous.  Curiosity,  however, 
got  the  better  of  these  scruples,  and  it  was 
resolved,  after  a  brief  consultation,  that 
the  invitation  ought  to  be  accepted. 

On  entering  the  hall,  the  king's  officers 
found  it  occupied  by  '  rebellious '  function- 
aries, military,  civil,  and  ecclesiastical,  and 
among  whom  the  same  good  humor  and 
excitement  prevailed  as  among  the  throng 
out  of  doors.  The  British  officials  were 
received  with  great  frankness  and  cordi- 
ality, and  were  allotted  such  stations  as 
enabled  them  to  witness  the  whole  cere- 
mony. Exactly  as  the  clock  struck  one, 
Colonel  Crafts,  who  occupied  the  chair, 
rose,  and,  silence  being  obtained,  read 
aloud  the  declaration,  which  announced  to 
the  world  that  the  tie  of  allegiance  which 
had  so  long  held  Britain  and  her  North 
American  colonies  together,  was  forever 
separated.  This  being  finished,  the  gen- 
tlemen stood  up,  and  each,  repeating  the 
words  as  they  were  spoken  by  an  officer, 
swore  to  uphold,  at  the  sacrifice  of  life, 
the  rights  of  his  country.  Meanwhile,  the 
town  clerk  read  from  a  balcony  the  solemn 
declaration  to  the  collected  multitude ;  at 
the  close  of  which,  a  shout  began  in  the 
hall  and  passed  like  an  electric  spark  to 
the  streets,  which  now  rang  with  loud  huz- 
zas, the  slow  and  measured  boom  of  can- 
non, and  the  rattle  of  musketry.  The 
batteries  on  T'ort  Hill,  Dorchester  Neck, 
the  castle,  Nantasket,  and  Long  Island, 
each  saluted  with  thirteen  guns,  the  artil- 
lery in  the  town  fired  thirteen  rounds,  and 
the  infantry  scattered  into  thirteen  divis- 
ions, poured  forth  thirteen  volleys,  —  all 
corresponding  to  the  number  of  states 
which  formed  the  Union.  There  was  also 
a  municipal  banquet,  at  which  speeches 
were  made  and  toasts  drank ;  and  in  the 
evening  a  brilliant  illumination  of  the 
houses. 

In  Virginia,  the  proclamation  of  inde- 
pendence was  greeted  with  that  same 
ardor  of  enthusiasm  which  for  so  many 
years  had  characterized  the  people  of  that 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUBLIC. 


29 


ancient  commonwealth,  in  the  course  of 
political  freedom.  In  South  Carolina,  too, 
the  declaration  was  read  to  the  assembled 
multitudes,  amid  the  greatest  rejoicings, — 
public  addresses,  military  and  civic  proces- 
sions, bands  of  music,  firing  of  cannon, 
and  kindred  demonstrations  of  popular 
favor.  In  all  the  colonies,  indeed,  the 
declaration  was  hailed  as  the  passing  away 
of  the  old  w^rld  and  the  birth  of  the 
new. 

But  the  declaration,  though  it  thus 
solemnly  inaugurated  a  new  nation  and 
made  the  colonies,  for  the  time,  the  theater 
of  patriotic  jubilee,  involved  startling  per- 
ils and  imposed  momentous  duties ;  for  it 
was  a  defiant  challenge  to  combat  thrown 
by  a  mere  province  in  the  face  of  the  most 
colossal  power  in  all  Christendom.  This 
important  paper  commences  with  stating 
that,  "  When  in  the  course  of  human 
events  it  becomes  necessary  for  one  people 
to  dissolve  the  political  bands  which  have 
connected  them  with  another,  and  to  as- 
sume among  the  powers  of  the  earth,  the 
separate  and  equal  stations  to  which  the 
laws  of  Nature,  and  of  Nature's  God,  en- 
title them,  a  decent  respect  to  the  opinions 
of  mankind  requires  that  they  should  de- 
clare the  causes  which  impel  them  to  the 
separation." 

The  causes  are  then  stated,  and  a  long 
enumeration  of  the  oppressions  complained 
of  by  America  is  closed  by  saying  that 
"  a  prince,  whose  character  is  thus  marked 
by  every  act  which  may  define  a  tyrant,  is 
unfit  to  be  the  ruler  of  a  free  people." 
History  may  be  searched  in  vain  for  words 
so  bold  and  scathing,  used  by  a  colony 
against  a  powerful  sovereign. 

The  fruitless  appeals  which  had  been 
made  to  the  people  of  Great  Britain  are 
also  recounted,  but  "they  too,"  concludes 
this  declaration,  "  have  been  deaf  to  the 
voice  of  justice  and  of  consanguinity.  We 
must,  therefore,  acquiesce  in  the  necessity 
which  denounces  our  separation,  and  hold 
them,  as  we  hold  the  rest  uf  mankind, 
enemies  in  war,  in  peace  friends."  Then 
comes  the  portentous  conclusion — 

"We,  therefore,  the  representatives  of 


the  United  States  of  America,  in  general 
congress  assembled,  appealing  to  the  Su- 
preme Judge  for  the  rectitude  of  our  inten- 
tions, do,  in  the  name,  and  by  the  author- 
ity of  the  good  people  of  these  colonies, 
solemnly  publish  and  declare,  that  these 
United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 

be,  FKEE  AND  INDEPENDENT  STATES  |  that 

they  are  absolved  from  all  allegiance  to 
the  British  crown,  and  that  all  political 
connection  between  them  and  the  State  of 
Great  Britain,  is,  and  ought  to  be,  totally 
dissolved  ;  and  that,  as  free  and  independ- 
ent states,  they  have  full  power  to  levy 
war,  conclude  peace,  contract  alliances, 
establish  commerce,  and  do  all  other  acts 
and  things,  which  independent  states  may 
of  right  do.  And  for  the  support  of  this 
declaration,  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the 
protection  of  Divine  Providence,  we  mutu- 
ally pledge  to  each  other,  our  lives,  our 
fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor." 

In  the  whole  country,  however,  between 
New  England  and  the  Potomac,  which 
was  now  to  become  the  great  theater  of 
action,  although  a  vast  majority  was  in 
favor  of  independence,  there  existed  an 
influential  number,  who  not  only  refused 
to  act  with  their  countrymen,  but  were 
ready  to  give  information  and  aid  to  the 
enemy.  Most  of  these  Tories  were  wealthy 
and  haughty,  and  rendered  themselves  ex- 
tremely unpopular.  Laws  passed  by  the 
new  State  authorities  had  subjected  these 
persons  to  fines  and  imprisonments,  and 
their  property  to  confiscation.  They  en- 
dured many  outrages,  and  were  treated  to 
"tarrings  and  feathering  "  innumerable, 
by  the  more  violent  among  the  angry  pop- 
ulace. To  prevent  these  outrages,  con- 
gress gave  the  supervision  of  tones  to 
committees  of  inspection.  Many  of  these 
obnoxious  families  finally  left  the  country, 
and  in  course  of  time  the  tory  element  was 
eradicated  or  completely  silenced. 

Scarcely  less  interesting  and  important 
is  the  character  of  the  reception  which 
this  remarkable  locument  met  on  its  ar- 
rival in  England.  Of  the  noble  band  of 
American  patriots  who  had  been  chosen  to 
deliberate  and  act  for  the  best  good  of  the 


30 


BIKTH  OF  THE  NEW  KEPUBLIC 


>ppressed  colonies,  and  who,  preceding  the 
final  act  of  the  declaration  of  independ- 
ence, had  sent  forth  the  most  magnani- 
mous appeals  to  Britain's  sense  of  justice, 
—of  these  men  and  their  works,  there  had 
gone  forth  one  of  the  grandest  eulogies 
from  the  elder  Pitt  (Lord  Chatham),  the 
greatest  of  Britain's  statesmen,  who,  in 
his  place  in  parliament,  dared  to  say — 

''I  must  declare  and  avow  that  in  all 
my  reading  and  study — and  it  has  been 
my  favorite  study ;  I  have  read  Thucydi- 
des,  and  have  studied  and  admired  the 
master  states  of  the  world — that,  for  so- 
lidity of  reasoning,  for  force  of  sagacity, 
and  wisdom  of  conclusion,  under  such  a 
complication  of  circumstances,  no  nation 
or  body  of  men  can  stand  in  preference  to 
the  general  congress  of  Philadelphia." 

But  when,  a  few  years  after,  it  was  pro- 
posed, by  the  British  prime  minister,  to 
conciliate  the  exasperated  colonies  by  treat- 
ing them  as  a  people  possessing  certain 
independent  rights  and  powers,  Pitt 
showed  the  exalted  estimation  in  which 
he  held  the  rebellious  colonies  as  part  of 
the  British  realm,  by  opposing  such  a 
course,  in  a  speech  of  almost  dramatic 
power  and  effect,  and  from  which,  owing 
to  the  exhaustion  it  produced  in  his  own 
shattered  system,  the  great  peer  and  ora- 
tor almost  immediately  died. 

In  France,  the  declaration  o\  independ- 
ence; by  the  American  colonies  was  greeted 
with  secret  satisfaction  by  the  court  and 
rulers,  and  aroused  to  universal  gladness 
the  popular  heart.  Reviewing  the  scene 
and  its  actors,  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
and  popular  orators  of  that  intrepid  nation 
was  led  to  say:  "With  what  grandeur, 
with  what  enthusiasm,  should  I  not  speak 
of  those  generous  men  who  erected  this 
grand  edifice  by  their  patience,  their  wis- 
dom, and  their  courage  !  Hancock,  Frank- 
lin, the  two  Adamses,  were  the  greatest 
actors  in  this  affecting  scene ;  but  they 
were  not  the  only  ones.  Posterity  shall 
know  them  all.  Their  honored  names 
shall  be  transmitted  to  it  by  a  happier 
pen  than  mine.  Brass  and  marble  shall 
show  them  to  remotest  ages.  Tn  behold- 


ing them,  shall  the  friend  of  freedom  feel 
his  heart  palpitate  with  joy — feel  his  eyes 
float  iii  delicious  tears.  Under  the  bust  of 
one  of  them  has  been  written, '  He  wrested 
thunder  from  heaven  and  the  scepter  from 
tyrants.'  Of  the  last  words  of  this  eulogy 
shall  all  of  them  partake."  Still  more  preg- 
nant were  the  words  of  the  great  Mira- 
beau,  as,  citing  the  grand  principles  of  the 
American  Declaration,  from  his  place  in 
the  National  Assembly,  "  I  ask,"  he  said, 
"  if  the  powers  who  have  formed  alliances 
with  the  States  have  dared  to  read  that 
manifesto,  or  to  interrogate  their  con- 
sciences after  the  perusal  ?  I  ask  whether 
there  be  at  this  day  one  government  in 
Europe — the  Helvetic  and  Batavian  con- 
federations and  the  British  isles  excepted 
— which,  judged  after  the  principles  of  the 
Declaration  of  Congress  on  the  fourth  of 
July,  1776,  is  not  divested  of  its  rights  ! " 
For  more  than  a  year,  commissioners 
from  congress,  at  the  head  of  whom  was 
Dr.  Franklin,  resided  at  the  court  of 
France,  urging  upon  that  government  to 
acknowledge  the  independence  of  the 
United  States.  But  the  success  of  the 
American  struggle  was  regarded,  as  yet, 
too  doubtful,  for  that  country  to  embroil 
herself  in  a  war  with  Great  Britain.  But 
that  great  event,  the  capture  of  the  British 
army  at  Saratoga,  seemed  to  increase  the 
probability  that  the  American  arms  would 
finally  triumph,  and  decided  France  to 
espouse  her  cause.  The  aid  which  France 
now  brought  to  the  Americans  was  of 
great  importance.  It  is  even  doubtful 
whether  the  colonies,  without  her  contri- 
butions of  money,  navy,  and  troops,  would 
have  been  able  to  resist  Britain  with  final 
success ;  at  least,  the  struggle  must  have 
been  greatly  prolonged.  To  this  inter- 
vention, however,  France  was  inclined,  by 
her  own  hostility  to  England,  whom  she 
delighted  to  see  humbled,  especially  by  a 
people  struggling  for  independence.  Fi- 
nally, after  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis  to 
General  Washington,  the  French  court 
pressed  upon  congress  the  propriety  of  ap- 
pointing commissioners  for  negotiating 
peace  with  Great  Britaku  In  accordance 


BIRTH  OF  THE  NEW  REPUl'.LIC. 


31 


with  this  advice,  John  Adams,  Benjamin 
Franklin,  John  Jay,  and  Henry  Laurens, 
were  appointed.  The  commissioners  met 
Messrs.  Fitzherbert  and  Oswald,  on  the 
part  of  Great  Britain,  at  Paris,  and  provi- 
sional articles  of  peace  between  the  two 
countries  were  there  signed,  November 
thirtieth,  1782 ;  the  definitive  treaty  being 
signed  on  the  third  of  September,  1783. 
Holland  acknowledged  the  independence 
of  the  United  States  in  1782;  Sweden,  in 
February,  1783;  Denmark,  in  the  same 
month ;  Spain,  in  Marcli ;  Russia,  in  July. 
And  thus,  the  REPUBLIC  OF  THE  UNITED 
STATES  OF  AMERICA  became  an  inde- 
pendent power  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth. 

It  was  not  unknown  to  the  wise  and 
venerable  enactors  of  the  Declaration,  that 
their  signatures  to  such  an  instrument 
would  be  regarded  in  England  as  an  act 
of  treason,  rendering  them  liable  to  the 
halter  or  the  block.  In  the  full  apprecia- 
tion of  all  this,  every  man  of  them  placed 
his  name  upon  the  immortal  parchment. 
The  only  signature  which  indicates  a 


trembling  hand,  is  that  of  Stephen  Hop- 
kins, but  this  was  owing  to  a  nervous 
affection ;  for,  so  resolute  was  ho  in  con- 
gress, that,  when  some  of  the  members 
suggested  a  hope  of  reconciliation,  Mr. 
Hopkins  replied,  that  "  the  time  had  come 
when  the  strongest  arm  and  the  longest 
sword  must  decide  the  contest,  and  those 
members  who  were  not  prepared  for  action 
had  better  go  home."  The  boldest  signa- 
ture is  that  of  John  Hancock,  he  whom 
the  British  had  excepted  in  their  offers  of 
pardon,  as  one  "  whose  offenses  are  of  too 
flagitious  a  nature  to  admit  of  any  other 
consideration  but  that  of  condign  punish- 
ment." The  number  who  signed  the  Dec- 
laration was  fifty-six;  and  the  average 
length  of  their  lives  was  about  sixty-five 
years.  Carpenters'Hall — or  Independence 
Hall — in  Philadelphia,  where  these  tre- 
mendous scenes  transpired,  is  still  one  of 
the  places  which  every  American  looks 
upon  with  patriotic  pride;  for  within  that 
temple  was  born  a  Nation,  in  whose  des- 
tiny were  wrapped  the  interests  of  Liberty 
and  Civilization  to  the  end  of  time. 


II.' 


FIRST  AMERICAN   NAVAL  VICTORY.— 1779. 


John  Paul  Jones,  Commanding  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  Fights  and  Captures  King  George's  Powei 
ful  Ship-of-war,  the  Serapis,  in  British  Waters. — Crowds  of  Spectators  Line  the  English  Coast. — The 
Most  Sanguinary  Battle  Ever  Fought  Between  Single  Ships. — Jones  is  Hailed  as  "The  Washington 
of  the  Seas." — World-wide  Interest  of  this  Combat. — Commodore  Jones's  Early  Career. — Offers  his 
Services  to  Congress. — Appointed  a  Naval  Lieutenant. — Joins  the  Continental  Fleet. — The  First  tn 
Hoist  its  Ensign. — Style  and  Motto  of  the  Flag. — Sails  from  France  on  a  Cruise. — Terror  Created  by 
his  Movements. — Characteristic  Anecdotes. — Two  British  Frigates  in  Sight. — Jones  Ready  for  Bloody 
Work. — The  Ships  Muzzle  to  Muzzle. — Superiority  of  the  Serapis. — A  Most  Deadly  Contest. — Both 
Vessels  on  Fire. — Jones  Attacked  by  Another  Foe. — One  of  his  Vessels  Treacherous. — Remarkable 
Scenes. — Britain's  Flag  Struck  to  America. — An  Act  Without  Precedent. — Sinking  of  the  Victori- 
ous Vessel. 


"  The  most  obstinate  and  bloody  battle  in  the  annals  of  naval  warfare."— J.  FKNIMOKK  COOPER. 


ITCH  an  exploit  as  tliat  performed  by  John  Paul  Jones,  in  1779, 
by  which,  in  plain  sight  of  the  English  coast,  he  flung  to  the  breeze 
the  gallant  ensign  of  the  United  States,  and,  with  Britons  as  wit- 
nesses of  his  daring,  fought,  victoriously,  a  battle  which  has  always 
been  spoken  of  as  the  most  obstinate  and  sanguinary  combat  that 
ever  occurred  between  single  ships,  can  never  be  read  of  by  Ameri- 
cans with  other  than  the  deepest  and  most  enthusiastic  interest.     The 
victory  came,  too,  at  one  of  the  darkest  hours  in  the  revolutionary  cam 
paign,  and  served  to  gladden  and  encourage,  for  the  time  being,  the  de 
spondent  hearts  of  honest  patriots.     The  vaunted  invincibleness  of  the 
British  navy  became  a  by-word  of  contumely,  the  world  over,  from  the 
time  Jones  nailed  his  flag  to  the  mast,  and,  under  the  calm 
sky  and  round  harvest  moon  of  September,  dealt  forth  a  storrr 
of  death  and  desolation  upon  the  enemies  of  his  adopted  coun- 
try.    The  action  may  well  be  pronounced  one  of  the  most 
terrible  on  record,  from  its  unusual  duration  for  a  naval  bat- 
tle, from  the  ferocity  which  the  combatants  displayed,  anil 
from  the  proximity  of  the  two  vessels,  the  muzzles  of  the 
ships'  batteries  almost  reaching  into  each  other's  port-holes 
John  Paul  was  born  in   Scotland,  on    the  sixth  day  of 
July,  1747,  and  the  scenery  and  associations  of  his  birth- 
place— Arbigland — and  its  vicinity,  doubtless   encouraged 
that  restless   spirit   of   adventure  and   love  of  change,   as 
well  as  that  ardent  enthusiasm  in   the  objects  of  his  pur- 
suit, which  so  strikingly  characterized  his  career  through  life. 
At  the    age    of   twelve,  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  merchant 
HOISTING  FIRST  NAVAL  FLAG,     of  Whitchaven.  who  carried  on  a  considerable  trade  with 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


33 


the  American  colonies.  His  first  voyage 
was  made  before  he  was  thirteen  years  old, 
being  to  Virginia,  where  his  elder  brother 
was  established  as  a  planter.  He  was  after- 
ward engaged  for  a  short  time  in  the  slave 
trade,  which  he  left  in  disgust,  and  made  a 
number  of  voyages  to  the  West  Indies. 

In  1773,  John  Paul  removed  to  Virginia, 
to  attend  to  the  affairs  of  his  brother,  who 
had  died  childless  and  intestate.  He  now, 
for  some  unknown  reason,  assumed  the  ad- 
ditional surname  of  Jones,  and  which  he 
retained  through  life.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  the  revolutionary  conflict,  his  feel- 
ings became  warmly  enlisted  in  the  cause 
of  the  colonies,  and  this  spirit  fully  pre- 
pared him  for  the  active  part  he  soon  un- 
dertook in  their  behalf.  An  offer  of  his 
services,  which  he  made  to  the  colonies, 
was  accepted,  and,  on  the  twenty-second 
of  December,  1775,  by  a  resolution  of  con- 
gress, he  was  appointed  lieutenant  in  the 
American  navy. 

It  was  Lieutenant  Jones  who  hoisted, 
with  his  own  hands,  the  first  American 
naval  flag  on  board  the  American  frigate 
Alfred,  the  flag-ship,  the  national  ensign 
being  thus  for  the  first  time  displayed  from 
a  man-of-war.  The  circumstances  attend- 
ing this  interesting  occasion  are  stated  to 
have  been  as  follows :  The  Alfred  was  an- 
chored off  the  foot  of  Walnut  street,  Phila- 
delphia. On  a  brilliant  morning,  early  in 
February,  1776,  gay  streamers  were  seen 
fluttering  from  every  mast-head  and  spar 
on  the  river  Delaware.  At  nine  o'clock,  a 
full-manned  barge  thridded  its  way  among 
the  floating  ice  to  the  Alfred,  bearing  the 
commodore.  He  was  greeted  by  the  thun- 
ders of  artillery  and  the  shouts  of  a  multi- 
tude. When  he  reached  the  deck  of  the 
flag-ship,  Captain  Salstonstall  gave  a  sig- 
nal, and  Lieutenant  Jones  gallantly  pulled 
the  ropes  which  wafted  the  new  flag  mast- 
head high.  It  was  of  yellow  silk,  bearing 
the  figure  of  a  pine  tree,  and  the  signifi- 
cant device  of  a  rattlesnake  in  a  field  of 
thirteen  stripes,  with  the  ominous  legend, 
"Don't  tread  on  met"  This  memorable 
act,  it  was  Jones's  high  honor  and  privilege 
to  perform  when  in  his  twenty-ninth  year; 


an  honor,  too,  of  which,  as  events  attervrard 
proved,  he  was  fully  worthy. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  August,  1779,  Jones 
sailed  from  the  roadstead  of  Groix,  France, 
in  command  of  a  small  squadron,  consisting 
of  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  forty-two  guns, 
the  Alliance,  thirty-six  guns,  the  Pallas, 
thirty-two  guns,  the  Cerf,  twenty-eight 
guns,  and  the  Vengeance,  twelve  guns. 
Two  privateers  afterwards  joined  them,  but 
did  not  continue  with  them  till  the  end  of 
the  cruise.  The  efficiency  of  the  expedi- 
tion was  marred  by  a  want  of  subordination 
on  the  part  of  some  of  the  officers,  who  do 
not  appear  to  have  been  willing  to  yield 
prompt  obedience  to  orders.  Captain  Lan- 
dais,  of  the  Alliance,  habitually  disregarded 
the  signals  and  orders,  throughout  the 
cruise,  and,  towards  the  close,  committed 
acts  of  open  hostility  to  his  superior.  But, 
notwithstanding  the  difficulties  against 
which  he  had  to  contend,  Jones  inflicted 
great  damage  on  the  enemy;  he  coasted 
Ireland,  England,  and  Scotland,  making 
many  prizes,  and  carrying  terror  wherever 
he  appeared. 

But  the  action  which  gave  the  most  dis- 
tinguishing renown  to  Jones's  brilliant  ca- 
reer, and  which  so  early  gave  prestige  to 
American  prowess  on  the  ocean,  is  that  of 
which  a  detailed  account  is  given  below : 

It  was  about  noon,  on  the  twenty-third 
of  September,  1779,  a  fleet  of  over  forty 
sail  appeared  off  Flamborough  Head,  on 
the  coast  of  Yorkshire,  and  Jones  at  once 
gave  up  the  pursuit  of  a  vessel  in  whose 
track  he  was  just  then  following,  with  all 
possible  speed,  and  made  signals  for  a  gen- 
eral chase.  The  sails  in  sight  were  a  fleet 
of  English  merchantmen,  under  convoy  of 
tha  ships-of-war  Serapis  and  Scarborough, 
and  as  soon  as  they  saw  themselves  pur- 
sued they  ran  in  shore,  while  their  convoys 
that  protected  them  bore  off  from  the  land 
and  prepared  for  an  engagement.  The 
Bon  Homme  Richard  set  every  stitch  of 
canvas,  but  did  not  come  into  fighting  po- 
sition toward  the  enemy  until  about  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  at  which  time,  from 
the  darkness  having  set  in  somewhat,  ob- 
jects on  the  water  were  dimly  discerned, 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


though  no*:  with  such  difficulty  as  would 
have  been  the  case  had  not  the  moon 
shone  forth  with  great  brightness,  and  the 
weather  proved  serene  and  beautiful. 
When  within  pistol-shot,  the  hail  from  the 
Serapis,  "  What  ship  is  that  ? "  was 
answered,  "I  can't  hear  you."  Captain 
Pearson  says  the  answer  was,  "  The  Prin- 
cess Royal."  A  second  hail  was  answered 
by  a  thundering  broadside  from  the  bat- 
teries of  the  Richard, — a  signal  that  in- 
dicated a  hot  and  bloody  encounter  at 
hand,  as  the  sequel  soon  proved. 

The  American  ship,  it  may  here  be  re- 
marked, was  much  inferior  to  her  antag- 
onist, being,  in  fact,  an  old  vessel,  clumsy, 
and    unmanageable.       She     carried     six 
eighteen-pounders  on  the  lower  gun  deck, 
fourteen   twelve-pounders  and   fourteen  , 
nine-pounders  on  the  middle  gun  deck, 
two    six-pounders    on    the    quarter-gun 
deck,  two  six-pounders  on  the  spar  deck, 
one  six-pounder  in  each  gangway,  and  two 
six-pounders  on  the  forecastle.     She  was 
manned   by  three  hundred  and   eighty 
men  and  boys.    The  Serapis,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  a  new  ship,  built  in  the  best 
manner,  and  with  a  much  heavier  arma- 
ment.     She  mounted  twenty  eighteen- 
pounders  on  her  jower  gun  deck,  twen'y 
nine-pounders  on  her  upper  gun  deck,  six 
six-pounders  on  her  quarter  deck,  four 
six-pounders  on  the   forecastle  ;    and  she 
had  a  crew  of  some   three   hundred   and 
twenty  men. 

Captain  Cottineau,  of  the  Pallas,  en- 
gaged the  Scarborough,  and  took  her,  after 
•\n  hour's  action,  while  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard  engaged  the  Serapis. 

In  the  earlier  part  of  the  action,  the 
superior  sailing  qualities  of  the  Serapis 
enabled  her  to  take  several  advantageous 
positions,  which  the  seamanship  of  Paul 
Jones,  hampered  by  the  unmanageable 
character  of  his  craft,  did  not  enable  him 
to  prevent.  Thus  he  attempted  to  lay  his 
ship  athwart  the  enemy's  bows,  but  the 
bowsprit  of  the  Serapis  sweeping  ovef  the 
Richard's  poop,  was  grappled  and  lashed, 
and  her  stern  swung  round  to  the  bow  of  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  by  the  action  of  the 


wind ;  the  vessels  lay  yard-arm  and  yard- 
arm,  the  muzzles  on  either  side  actually 
touching  the  enemy.  But  long  before  this, 
many  of  the  eighteen-pound  shot  of  the 
Serapis  had  entered  the  Richard's  hull  be- 
low the  water-mark,  and  she  leaked  in  a. 
threatening  manner.  Just  before  they 
closed,  Commodore  Pearson  hailed  his  ad- 
versary :  "  Has  your  ship  struck  ?  "  "  1 
haven't  begun  to  fiyht  yet !  "  thundered 
forth  the  brave  Jones,  in  reply. 

A  novelty  in  naval  combats  ./as  now 
presented  to  many  witnesses,  but  few  ad- 
mirers,— says  Lieutenant  Dale,  who  par- 
ticipated in  the  conflict, — the  rammers 
being  run  into  the  respective  ships  to  en- 
able the  men  to  load  after  the  lower  ports 
of  the  Serapis  had  been  blown  away,  to 


make  room  for  runmng  out  their  guns, 
and  in  this  situation  the  ships  remained 
until  between  ten  and  twelve  o'clock, 
P.  M.  From  the  commencement  to  the 
termination  of  the  action,  there  was  not  a 
man  on  board  the  Richard  who  was  igno- 
rant of  the  superiority  of  the  Serapis,  both 
in  weight  of  metal,  and  in  the  qualities  of 
the  crew.  The  crew  of  that  ship  were 
picked  seamen,  and  the  ship  itself  had 
been  only  a  few  months  off  the  stocks; 
whereas  the  crew  of  the  Richard  consisted 
of  part  Americans,  English  and  French, 
and  a  part  of  Maltese,  Portuguese,  and  Ma- 
lays, these  latter  contributing  by  their 
want  of  naval  skill  and  knowledge  of  the 
English  language,  to  depress  rather  tliuu 
encourage  any  reasonable  hope  of  success 
in  a  combat  under  such  circumstance*. 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


35 


36 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


One  of  the  most  disheartening  facts  in 
the  early  part  of  the  action,  was  the  silenc- 
ing of  the  battery  of  twelve-pounders,  on 
which  Jones  had  placed  his  principal  de- 
pendence. 

Brave  and  dauntless  sailor  as  he  was, 
Jones  stuck  to  his  little  battery,  and  stimu- 
lated his  men  with  word  and  example. 
While  one  of  the  nine-pounders  vomited 
double-headed  shot  against  the  mainmast 
of  the  Serapis,  the  two  others  swept  her 
decks  with  grape  and  canister.  The  fire 
was  so  hot  from  the  nine-pound  battery  and 
the  tops,  that  not  a  man  could  live  on  the 
deck  of  the  English  ship.  But  all  this 
while,  her  lower  battery  of  eighteen-pound- 
ers  was  making  an  awful  ruin  of  the  Rich- 
ard. The  terror  of  the  scene  was  also  soon 
heightened  beyond  the  power  of  language 
to  depict,  by  both  vessels  taking  fire,  which 
required  almost  superhuman  exertion  to 
subdue,  and,  in  the  midst  of  all,  Jones  and 
his  heroic  men  were  horror  stricken  to  see 
their  consort,  the  Alliance,  commanded  by 
Captain  Landais,  come  up  and  pour  a  full 
broadside  into  the  Richard's  stern !  The 
evidence  is  regarded  as  most  conclusive, 
that  Captain  L.'s  conduct  on  this  occasion 
was  not  due  to  any  mistake  on  his  part  in 
supposing  the  Richard  to  be  the  Serapis, 
but  to  his  personal  hostility  to  Jones. 
With  jealousy  and  treason  in  his  heart,  his 
plan  was  to  kill  Jones,  and,  capturing  the 
Serapis,  claim  the  victory  as  his.  But  the 
black-hearted  Frenchman  failed  in  his  plot. 
A  quantity  of  cartridges  on  board  the  Ser- 
apis was  set  fire  to  by  a  grenade  from 
Jones's  ship,  and  blew  up,  killing  or  wound- 
ing all  the  officers  and  men  abaft  the  main- 
mast. But  long  after  this  the  fight  went 
on  with  fury. 

At  last,  the  mainmast  of  the  Serapis  be- 
gan to  totter  to  its  fall — her  fire  slackened, 
and,  about  half-past  ten  o'clock,  the  British 
flag  was  struck,  and  Commodore  Pearson 
surrendered  his  sword  to  his  really  weaker 
foe.  In  going  through  the  formalities  of 
this  scene,  Pearson  displayed  much  irrita- 
bility, and,  addressing  Jones  as  one  who 
bought  under  no  recognized  flag,  said: 

"  It  is  painful  to  deliver  up  my  sword  to 


a  man  who  has  fought  with  a  halter  around 
his  neck." 

"  Sir,"  replied  Jones,  good  humoredly, 
as  he  handed  back  the  weapon,  "you  have 
fought  like  a  hero,  and  I  make  no  doubt 
but  your  sovereign  will  reward  you  in  the 
most  ample  manner." 

True  enough,  the  gallant  Pearson  soon 
received  from  King  George  the  dignity  of 
knighthood  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his 
bravery  in  this  unparalleled  battle, — hear- 
ing of  which  honor,  Jones  is  said  to  have 
dryly  remarked  :  "  Well,  he  deserved  it ; 
and  should  I  have  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  with  him  again,  I  will  make  a  lord 
of  him!" 

Another  episode  occurred  in  connection 
with  a  medical  officer, — the  surgeon  of  the 
Richard, — who  ran  up  from  the  cock-pit, 
in  great  fright  and  trepidation,  and  hur- 
riedly accosting  the  captain,  said :  "Are  you 
not  going  to  strike  the  colors  ?  Is  not  the 
ship  fast  sinking  ?  "  "  What !  doctor,"  re- 
plied Jones,  "  would  you  have  me  strike  to 
a  drop  of  water  ?  Here,  help  me  get  this 
gun  over !  "  The  doctor,  as  though  answer- 
ing a  sudden  professional  call,  was  soon 
retracing  his  steps  to  the  cock-pit. 

So  terribly  was  the  Richard  cut  to  pieces 
(being  an  old  ship),  that  it  was  found  im- 
possible, after  the  fight,  to  get  her  into 
port,  and,  the  wounded  being  removed,  she 
soon  after  sank. 

Jones  took  his  prizes  to  Holland,  and  it 
is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  whole 
world  stood  astonished  at  his  bravery  and 
success. 

A  most  interesting  account  of  this  cele- 
brated battle  between  the  Serapis  and 
Richard  was  given,  soon  after  its  occur- 
rence, by  Commodore  Jones  himself,  a 
portion  of  which,  describing  in  his  own 
dramatic  style,  the  principal  scenes  during 
the  engagement,  is  given  below: 

On  the  morning  of  that  day,  September 
twenty-third,  the  brig  from  Holland  not  be- 
ing in  sight,  we  chased  abrigantine  that  ap- 
peared laying  to,  to  windward.  About 
noon,  we  saw  and  chased  a  large  ship  that 
appeared  coming  round  Flamborough  Head 
from  the  northward,  and  at  the  same  time 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


I  manned  and  armed  one  of  the  pilot  boats 
to  send  in  pursuit  of  the  hrigantine,  which 
now  appeared  to  be  the  vessel  that  I  had 
forced  ashore.  Soon  after  this,  a  fleet  of 
forty-one  sail  appeared  off  Flamborongh 
Head,  bearing  N.  N.  E.  This  induced  me 
to  abandon  the  single  ship  which  had  then 
anchored  in  Burlington  Bay  ;  I  also  called 
back  the  pilot  boat,  and  hoisted  a  signal 
for  a  general  chase.  When  the  fleet  dis- 
covered us  bearing  down,  all  the  merchant 
ships  crowded  sail  toward  the  shore.  The 
two  ships-of-war  that  protected  the  fleet  at 
the  same  time  steered  from  the  land,  and 
made  the  disposition  for  battle.  In  ap- 
proaching the  enemy,  I  crowded  every  pos- 
siUe  sail,  and  made  the  signal  for  the  line 
of  battle,  to  which  the  Alliance  paid  no  at- 
tention. Earnest  as  I  was  for  the  action, 
I  could  not  reach  the  commodore's  ship 
until  seven  in  the  evening,  being  then 
within  pistol-shot,  when  he  hailed  the  Bon 
Homnie  Richard.  We  answered  him  by 
firing  a  whole  broadside. 

The  battle  being  thus  begun,  was  con- 
tinued with  unremitting  fury.  Every 
method  was  practiced  on  both  sides  to  gain 
an  advantage  and  rake  each  other ;  and  I 
must  confess  that  the  enemy's  ship,  being 
much  more  manageable  than  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard,  gained  thereby  several 
times  an  advantageous  situation,  in  spite 
of  my  best  endeavors  to  prevent  it.  As  I 
had  to  deal  with  an  enemy  of  greatly  su- 
perior force,  I  was  under  the  necessity  of 
closing  with  him,  to  prevent  the  advantage 
which  he  had  over  me  in  point  of  ma- 
neuver. It  was  my  intention  to  lay  the 
Bon  Homme  Richard  athwart  the  enemy's 
bow  ;  but  as  that  operation  required  great 
dexterity  in  the  management  of  both  sails 
and  helm,  and  some  of  our  braces  being 
shot  away,  it  did  not  exactly  succeed  to  my 
wish.  The  enemy's  bowsprit,  however, 
came  over  the  Bon  Homme  Richard's  poop, 
by  the  mizzenmast,  and  I  made  both  ships 
fast  together  in  that  situation,  which  by 
the  action  of  the  wind  on  the  enemy's  sails, 
forced  her  stern  close  to  the  Bon  Homme 
Richard's  bow,  so  that  the  ships  lay  square 
alongside  of  each  other,  the  yards  being 


all  entangled,  and  the  canuon  of  each  ship 
touching  the  opponent's. 

I  directed  the  fire  of  one  of  the  three 
cannon  against  the  mainmast,  with  dou- 
ble-headed shot,  while  the  other  two  were 
exceedingly  well  served  with  grape  and 
canister  shot,  to  silence  the  enemy's  mus- 
ketry and  clear  her  decks,  which  was  at 
last  effected.  The  enemy  were,  as  I  have 
since  understood,  on  the  instant  of  calling 
for  quarter,  when  the  cowardice  or  treach- 
ery of  three  of  my  under-officers  induced 
them  to  call  to  the  enemy.  The  English 
commodore  asked  me  if  I  demanded  quar- 
ter, and  I,  having  answered  him  in  the 
most  determined  negative,  they  renewed 
the  battle  with  double  fury.  They  were 
unable  to  stand  the  deck ;  but  the  fire  of 
their  cannon,  especially  the  lower  battery, 
which  was  entirely  formed  of  ten-pound- 
ers, was  incessant ;  both  ships  were  set  on 
fire  in  various  places,  and  the  scene  was 
dreadful  beyond  the  reach  of  language. 
To  account  for  the  timidity  of  my  three 
under-officers,  I  mean  the  gunner,  the  car- 
penter, and  the  master-at-arms,  I  must 
observe,  that  the  two  first  were  slightly 
wounded,  and,  as  the  ship  had  received 
various  shots  under  the  water,  and  one  of 
the  pumps  being  shot  away,  the  carpenter 
expressed  his  fears  that  she  would  sink, 
and  the  other  two  concluded  that  she  was 
sinking,  which  occasioned  the  gunner  to 
run  aft  on  the  poop,  without  my  knowl- 
edge, to  strike  the  colors.  Fortunately  for 
me,  a  cannon-ball  had  done  that  before,  by 
carrying  away  the  ensign-staff;  he  was 
therefore  reduced  to  the  necessity  of  sink- 
ing, as  he  supposed,  or  of  calling  for  quar- 
ter, and  he  preferred  the  latter. 

All  this  time  the  Bon  Homme  Richard 
had  sustained  the  action  alone,  and  the 
enemy,  though  much  superior  in  force, 
would  have  been  very  glad  to  have  got 
clear,  as  appears  by  their  own  acknowledg- 
ments, and  by  their  having  let  go  an  an- 
chor the  instant  that  I  laid  them  on  board, 
by  which  means  they  would  have  escaped, 
had  I  not  made  them  fast  to  the  Bon 
Homme  Richard. 

At  last,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock,  the  Al> 


38 


FIRST  AMERICAN  NAVAL  VICTORY. 


liance  appeared,  and  I  now  thought  the 
battle  at  an  end ;  but,  to  my  utter  aston- 
ishment, he  discharged  a  broadside  full 
into  the  stern  of  the  Bon  Homme  Richard. 
We  called  to  him  for  God's  sake  to  forbear 
firing  into  the  Bon  Homme  Richard;  yet 
they  passed  along  the  off  side  of  the  ship, 
and  continued  firing.  There  was  no  pos- 
sibility of  his  mistaking  the  enemy's  ship 
for  the  Bon  Homme  Richard,  there  being 
the  most  essential  difference  in  their  ap- 
pearance and  construction.  Besides,  it  was 
then  full  moonlight.  The  Bon  Homme 
Richard  received  various  shots  under  wa- 
ter from  the  Alliance ;  the  leak  gained  on 
the  pumps,  and  the  fire  increased  much  on 
board  both  ships.  Some  officers  persuaded 


me  to  strike,  of  whose  courage  and  good 
sense  I  entertain  a  high  opinion.  My 
treacherous  master-at-arms  let  loose  all  my 
prisoners  without  my  knowledge,  and  my 
prospects  became  gloomy  indeed.  I  would 
not,  however,  give  up  the  point.  The  ene- 
my's mainmast  began  to  shake,  their  firing 
decreased  fast,  ours  rather  increased,  and 
the  British  colors  were  struck  at  half  an 
hour  past  ten  o'clock. 

This  prize  proved  to  be  the  British  ship- 
of-war,  the  Serapis,  a  new  ship  of  forty- 
four  guns,  built  on  the  most  approved  con- 
struction, with  two  complete  batteries,  one 
of  them  of  eighteen-pounders,  and  com- 
manded by  the  brave  Commodore  Richard 
Pearson. 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


39 


III. 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY.— 1780. 


The  Northern  States  wrapt  in  a  Dense  Black  Atmosphere  for  Fifteen  Hours. — The  Day  of  Judgment 
Supposed  to  have  Come.  —  Cessation  of  Labor.  —  Religious  Devotions  Resorted  to.  —  The  Herds 
Retire  to  their  Stalls,  the  Fowls  to  their  Roosts,  and  the  Birds  Sing  their  Evening  Songs  at  Noonday. — 
Science  at  Loss  to  Account  for  the  Mysterious  Phenomenon. — One  of  Nature's  Marvels. — Redness  of 
the  Sun  and  Moon. — Approach  of  a  Thick  Vapor. — Loud  Peals  of  Thunder. — Sudden  and  Strange 
Darkness. — Alarm  of  the  Inhabitants. — End  of  the  World  Looked  For. — Dismay  of  the  Brute  Crea- 
tion.—  An  Intensely  Deep  Gloom.  —  Difficulty  in  Attending  to  Business.  —  Lights  Burning  in  the 
Houses. — Vast  Extent  of  the  Occurrence. — Condition  of  the  Barometer. — Change  in  the  Color  of 
Objects. — Quick  Motion  of  the  Clouds. — Birds  Suffocate  and  Die. — The  Sun's  Disc  Seen  in  Some 
Places. — Oily  Deposit  on  the  Waters. — Impenetrable  Darkness  at  Night. — Incidents  and  Anecdotes. — 
Ignorant  Whims  and  Conjectures. — An  Unsolved  Mystery. 


"  The  Dark  Day  in  northern  America  was  one  of  those  wonderful  phenomena  of  nature  which  will  always  be  read  of  with  interest,  but 
which  philosophy' is  at  a  loss  to  explain."— HBRSCHKL. 


DIFFICULTY  OF  TRAVELING. 


LMOST,  if  not  altogether  alone,  as  the  most 
mysterious  and  as  yet  unexplained  phenome- 
non of  its  kind,  in  nature's  diversified  range  of 
events,  during    the  last  century,  stands  the 
Dark  Day  of  May  Nineteenth,  1780, — a  most 
unaccountable  darkening  of  the  whole  visible 
heavens  and  atmosphere  in  New  England, — 
which  brought  intense  alarm   and  distress  to 
multitudes  of  minds,  as  well  as  dismay  to  the 
brute  creation,  the  fowls  fleeing,  bewildered,  to 
their  roosts,  and  the  birds  to  their  nests,  and 
the  cattle  returning  to  their  stalls.     Indeed, 
thousands  of  the  good  people  of  that  day  be- 
came fully  convinced  that  the  end  of  all  things 
terrestrial  had  come ;  many  gave  up,  for  the 
time,  their  secular  pursuits,  and  betook  them- 
selves to  religious  devotions  ;  while  many  others  regarded 
the  darkness  as  not  only  a  token  of  God's  indignation 
against  the  various  iniquities  and  abominations  of  the  age 
but  also  as  an  omen  of  some  future  destruction  that  might 
overwhelm  the  land — as  in  the  case  of  the  countries  men- 
tioned in  biblical  history, — unless  speedy  repentance  at>d 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


41 


reformation  took  place.  The  ignorant  in- 
dulged in  vague  and  wild  conjectures  as 
to  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon;  and 
those  profounder  minds,  even,  that  could 
"gauge  the  heavens  and  tell  the  stars," 
were  about  equally  at  loss  for  any  rational 
explanation  of  the  event.  It  is  related 
that  the  Connecticut  legislature  was  in 
session  at  this  time,  and  that,  so  great  was 
the  darkness,  the  members  became  terri- 
fied, and  thought  that  the  day  of  judg- 
ment had  come ;  a  motion  was  conse- 
quently made  to  adjourn.  At  this,  Mr. 
Davenport  arose  and  said:  "Mr.  Speaker, 
— It  is  either  the  day  of  judgment,  or  it 
is  not.  If  it  is  not,  there  is  no  need  of 
adjourning.  If  it  is,  I  desire  to  be  found 
doing  my  duty.  I  move  that  candles  be 
brought,  and  that  we  proceed  to  business." 
The  time  of  the  commencement  of  this 
extraordinary  darkness  was  between  the 
hours  of  ten  and  eleven  in  the  forenoon  of 
Friday,  of  the  date  already  named;  and  it 
continued  until  the  middle  of  the  follow- 
ing night,  but  with  different  appearances 
at  different  places.  As  to  the  manner  of 
its  approach,  it  seemed  to  appear  first  of 
all  in  the  south-west.  The  wind  came 
from  that  quarter,  and  the  darkness  ap- 
peared to  come  on  with  the  clouds  that 
came  in  that  direction.  The  degree  to 
which  the  darkness  arose  varied  in  differ- 
ent localities.  In  most  parts,  it  became  so 
dense,  that  people  were  unable  to  read 
common  print  distinctly,  or  accurately  de- 
termine the  time  of  day  by  their  clocks  or 
watches,  or  dine,  or  manage  their  domes- 
tic affairs  conveniently,  without  the  light 
of  candles.  In  some  places,  the  degree  of 
darkness  was  just  about  equal  to  prevent- 
ing persons  seeing  to  read  ordinary  print 
in  the  open  air,  for  several  hours  together. 
The  extent  of  this  darkness  was  also  very 
remarkable.  It  was  observed  at  the  most 
easterly  regions  of  New  England;  west- 
ward, to  the  furthest  parts  of  Connecticut, 
and  at  Albany ;  to  the  southward,  it  was 
observed  all  along  the  sea  coasts ;  and  to 
the  north,  as  far  as  the  American  settle- 
ments extended.  It  probably  far  exceeded 
these  boundaries,  but  the  exact  limits  were 


never  positively  known.  With  regard  to 
its  duration,  it  continued  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Boston  for  at  least  fourteen  or  fif- 
teen hours ;  but  it  was  doubtless  longer  or 
shorter  in  some  other  places.  The  appear- 
ance and  effects  were  such  as  tended  to 
make  the  prospect  extremely  dull,  gloomy, 
and  unnatural.  Candles  were  lighted  up 
in  the  houses;  the  birds,  in  the  midst 
of  their  blithesome  forenoon  enjoyments, 
stopped  suddenly,  and,  singing  their  even- 
ing songs,  disappeared,  and  became  si- 
lent; the  fowls  retired  to  their  roosts;  the 
cocks  were  crowing  in  their  accustomed 
manner  at  the  break  of  day;  objects  could 
not  be  distinguished  at  a  comparatively 
slight  distance;  and  everything  bore  the 
aspect  and  gloom  of  night, — to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  effect  upon  the  minds  of  the 
people,  which,  indeed,  was  quite  inde- 
scribable. 

The  above  general  facts  concerning  this 
strange  phenomenon  were  ascertained, 
after  much  painstaking  inquiry,  soon 
after  its  occurrence,  by  Prof.  Williams,  of 
Harvard  College,  who  also  collected  to- 
gether some  of  the  more  particular  ob- 
servations made  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  relative  to  the  remarkable  event. 
From  these  data  it  appears  that,  with  re- 
gard to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  pre- 
ceding this  uncommon  darkness,  it  was 
noticed  in  many  sections,  for  several  days 
before,  that  the  air  seemed  to  be  of  a 
smoky  and  vaporous  character.  The  sun 
and  the  moon  exhibited  an  unusual  led- 
ness  in  their  color,  and  divested  of  their 
usual  brightness  and  lucid  aspect;  and 
this  obscuration  increased  as  they  ap- 
proached nearer  to  the  horizon.  This 
was  ascertained  to  have  been  the  case  in 
almost  all  parts  of  the  New  England 
states,  for  four  or  five  days  preceding  the 
nineteenth  of  May.  The  winds  had  been 
variable,  but  chiefly  from  the  south-west 
and  north-east.  The  thermometer  indi- 
cated from  forty  to  fifty-five  degrees.  The 
barometer  showed  a  somewhat  higher  range 
than  usual.  The  weather  had  been  fair 
and  cool  for  the  season. 

As  to  the  state  of  the  atmosphere  when 


42 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


the  darkness  came  on,  it  was  observable 
that  the  weight  or  gravity  of  it  was  grad- 
ually decreasing,  the  greater  part  of  the 
4ay.  According  to  the  observations  made 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.,  tho  mercury  in  the 
barometer  was  found,  at  twelve  o'clock,  to 
stand  at  twenty-nine  inches,  seventy ;  in 
half  an  hour  after,  the  mercury  had  fallen 
the  one-hundredth  part  of  an  inch  ;  at  one 
o'clock,  it  was  twenty-nine  inches,  sixty- 
seven  ;  at  three  o'clock,  it  was  at  twenty- 
nine  inches,  sixty-five;  at  eight  minutes 
past  eight,  it  was  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty-four.  A  similar  course  of  barometri- 
cal observations  made,  at  the  same  time, 
in  another  part  of  the  state,  showed  as  fol- 
lows :  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
mercury  in  the  barometer  was  found  to  be 
at  twenty-nine  inches,  eighty-two ;  as  soon 
as  the  darkness  began  to  appear  uncom- 
mon, that  is,  at  ten  minutes  past  ten,  the 
mercury  was  found  at  twenty-nine  inches, 
sixty-eight ;  at  quarter  before  eleven — the 
time  of  the  greatest  degree  of  darkness  in 
that  part  of  the  country — the  mercury  was 
at  twenty-nine  inches,  sixty-seven,  the 
darkness  continuing  in  the  same  degree 
for  an  hour  and  a  half ;  at  fifteen  minutes 
past  twelve,  the  mercury  had  fallen  to 
twenty-nine  inches,  sixty-five,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes  after  this,  the  darkness  began 
to  abate ;  the  mercury  remained  in  this 
state  during  the  whole  evening,  without 
any  sensible  alteration.  At  half-past 
eight,  it  seemed  to  have  fallen  a  little,  but 
so  small  was  the  alteration,  that  it  was  at- 
tended with  some  uncertainty,  nor  did  it 
appear  to  stand  any  lower  three  hours 
later. 

From  these  observations,  it  is  certain 
that,  on  the  day  when  the  darkness  took 
place,  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos- 
phere was  gradually  decreasing  through 
the  whole  day.  Both  of  the  barometers 
in  use  were  instruments  of  superior  work- 
manship, and  consequently  to  be  depended 
on  as  to  the  accuracy  of  their  indications. 

The  color  of  objects  that  day,  is  another 
point  of  interest.  It  is  mentioned,  in  the 
record  of  observations  made  with  reference 
to  this  feature  of  the  phenomenon,  that 


the  complexion  of  the  clouds  was  com- 
pounded of  a  faint  red,  3rellou'  and  brown, 
— that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  which 
commonly  appear  green,  were  of  the  deep- 
est green,  verging  to  blue, — and  that  those 
which  appear  white,  were  highly  tinged 
with  yellow.  This  was  the  character  of 
the  observations,  as  given  by  almost  every 
one  who  made  any  record  of  the  day's  ap- 
pearance. But  Prof.  Williams  states  that, 
to  him,  almost  every  object  appeared  tinged 
with  yellow,  rather  than  with  any  other 
color;  and  this,  whether  the  thing  wa? 
near,  or  remote  from  the  eye. 

Another  element  of  peculiarity,  in  this 
remarkable  scene,  was  the  nature  and  ap- 
pearance of  the  vapors  that  were  then  in 
the  atmosphere.  Early  in  the  morning, 
the  weather  was  cloudy  ;  the  sun  was  but 
just  visible  through  the  clouds,  and  ap- 
peared of  a  deep  red,  as  it  had  for  several 
days  before.  In  most  places  thunder  was 
heard  a  number  of  times  in  the  morning. 
The  clouds  soon  began  to  rise  from  the 
south-west,  with  a  gentle  breeze,  and  there 
were  several  small  showers  before  eight 
o'clock ;  in  some  places  there  were  showers 
at  other  hours,  throughout  the  day.  The 
water  that  fell  was  found  to  have  an  un- 
usual character,  being  thick,  dark,  and 
sooty.  One  observer,  in  tho  eastern  part 
of  Massachusetts,  states,  in  this  connec- 
tion, that  the  strange  appearance  and 
smell  of  the  rain-water  which  people  had 
saved  in  tubs,  was  the  subject  of  universal 
and  wondering  remark.  On  examining 
tho  water,  there  was  found  a  light  scum 
upon  it,  which,  on  being  rubbed  between 
the  thumb  and  finger,  seemed  to  resemble 
the  black  ashes  of  burnt  leaves ;  the  water 
also  gave  the  same  strong,  sooty  smell, 
which  characterized  the  air.  A  similar 
appearance,  in  this  respect,  manifested 
itself  in  other  localities ;  it  was  especially 
exhibited  on  the  Merrimac  river,  large 
quantities  of  black  scum  being  seen  float- 
ing upon  the  surface  of  that  stream,  dur- 
ing the  day.  In  the  night,  the  wind 
veered  round  to  the  north-east,  and  drove 
this  substance  towards  the  south  shore ; 
when  the  tide  fell,  the  matter  lay  for 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


43 


many  miles  along  the  shore,  the  width  of 
the  deposit  being  some  four  or  five  inches. 
An  examination  of  a  considerable  quantity 
of  this  substance,  in  several  places,  failed 
to  show  anything  of  a  sulphurous  nature, 
either  in  its  taste,  color,  or  smell.  Prof. 
Williams  states  that,  being  apprehensive 
as  to  whether  there  was  not  some  uncom- 
mon ingredient  in  the  air  that  day,  he  put 
out  several  sheets  of  clean  paper  in  the  air 
and  rain.  When  they  had  been  out  four  or 
five  hours,  he  dried  them  by  the  fire.  They 
were  much  sulued,  and  became  dark  in 
their  color,  and  felt  as  if  they  had  been 
rubbed  with  oil  or  grease  ;  but,  upon  burn- 
ing them,  there  could  not  be  detected  any 
sulphurous  or  nitrous  particles. 

The  motion  and  situation  of  the  cur- 
rents or  bodies  of  vapor  in  the  atmosphere 
likewise  exhibited  some  striking  peculiar- 
ities. In  most  places,  it  was  very  evident 
that  the  vapors  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere  towards 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  A  gentleman 
who  made  some  special  observations  bear- 
ing upon  this  point,  mentions  a  very  curi- 
ous circumstance,  as  to  their  ascent  and 
situation,  namely,  that  at  about  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  a  shower, 
the  vapors  rose  from  the  springs  in  the 
low  lands,  in  great  abundance.  Notice 
was  taken  of  one  large  column  that  as- 
cended, with  great  rapidity,  to  a  consid- 
erable height  above  the  highest  hills,  and 
soon  spread  into  a  large  cloud,  then  moved 
off  a  little  to  the  westward.  A  second 
cloud  was  formed  in  the  same  manner, 
from  the  same  springs,  but  did  not  ascend 
BO  high  as  the  first;  and  a  third  was 
formed  from  the  same  places,  in  less  than 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  the  second. 
About  three-quarters  of  an  hour  after 
nine  o'clock,  these  clouds  exhibited  a  very 
striking  appearance.  The  upper  cloud 
wore  a  peculiar  reddish  hue ;  the  second 
showed  in  some  places  or  parts  a  green,  in 
others  a  blue,  and  in  others  an  indigo 
color ;  while  the  surface  of  the  third  cloud 
was  almost  white. 

Of  a  somewhat  singular  nature,  also,  is 
the  fact,  as  related  by  another,  that,  while 


tlie  darkness  continued,  the  clouds  were  in 
quick  motion,  interrupted,  skirted  one  over 
another,  so  as  to  form — at  least  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder — a  considerable  number  of 
strata,  the  lower  stratum  being  of  an  uni- 
form height  as  far  as  visible ;  but  this  height 
was  conceived  to  be  very  slight,  from  the 
small  extent  of  the  horizon  that  could  be 
seen,  and  from  this  circumstance  observed 
in  the  evening.  A  lighted  torch,  hold  by 
a  person  passing  along  the  street,  occa- 
sioned a  reflection  of  a  faint  red  or  copper- 
tinged  light  —  similar  to  a  faint  aurora 
borealis,  —  the  apparent  height  at  which 
the  reflection  was  made,  being  some  twenty 
to  thirty  feet.  And  it  was  generally  re- 
marked, that  the  hills  might  be  seen  at  a 
distance  in  some  directions,  while  the  in- 
termediate spaces  were  greatly  obscured 
or  darkened. 

It  would  thus  appear,  from  the  state- 
ments now  cited,  as  if  the  vapors,  in  some 
places,  were  ascending ;  in  most,  descend- 
ing ;  and,  in  all,  very  near  to  the  surface 
of  the  earth.  To  this  it  may  be  added, 
that,  during  the  darkness,  objects  seem- 
ingly cast  a  shade  in  every  direction,  and, 
in  many  instances,  there  were  various 
appearances  or  corruscations  in  the  atmos- 
phere, not  unlike  the  aurora  borealis,— 
though  it  is  not  stated  that  any  uncom- 
mon exhibitions  of  the  electric  fire  were 
witnessed  during  the  day.  In  some  ac- 
counts, however,  it  is  mentioned  that  a 
number  of  small  birds  were  found  suffo- 
cated by  the  vapor ;  some  were  found  dead, 
and  some  flew  affrighted,  or  stupefied,  into 
the  houses. 

In  New  Haven,  Conn.,  there  was  a 
shower  of  rain,  with  some  lightning  and 
thunder,  about  daybreak  in  the  morning, 
the  rain  continuing,  with  intervals,  until 
after  sunrise.  The  morning  was  cloudy 
and  darkish ;  and  the  sun,  rising  towards 
the  zenith,  gave  no  increase  of  light,  as 
usual,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  darkness 
continued  to  increase  until  between  eleven 
and  twelve  o'clock,  at  which  time  there 
was  the  greatest  obscurity  in  that  place. 
What  little  motion  of  the  air  there  was 
just  at  this  period,  was  nearly  from  the 


44 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


south ;  though  the  atmosphere  was  as  calm 
as  the  blandest  summer  morning.  There 
was  something  more  of  a  luminous  appear- 
ance in  the  horizon,  than  in  the  hemi- 
sphere in  general ;  also,  a  most  marked 
liveliness  of  tint  to  the  grass  and  other 
green  vegetation ;  and  a  very  noticeable 
yellowness  in  the  atmosphere,  which  made 
clean  silver  nearly  resemble  the  color  of 
brass.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  noon,  the 
singular  obscuration  ceased;  the  greatest 
darkness,  at  any  particular  time,  was  at 
least  as  dense  a«  what  is  commonly  called 
'candlelighting,'  in  the  evening.  In  the 
town  of  Hartford,  and  the  neighboring 
villages,  the  phenomenon  was  observed 
with  all  its  distinctive  peculiarities ;  and, 
by  some  persons,  the  disc  of  the  sun  was 
seen,  at  the  time  of  the  greatest  deficiency 
of  light. 


such  buildings.  At  twelve,  the  darkness 
was  greatest,  and  a  little  rain  fell ;  in  the 
street,  the  aspect  was  like  that  at  the  be- 
ginning of  evening,  as  lights  were  seen 
burning  fn  all  the  houses.  The  clouds 
were  thinnest  at  the  north ;  at  the  north- 
east, the  clouds  were  very  thick,  and  so 
low  that  hills  could  not  be  seen  at  the  dis- 
tance of  half  a  mile ;  south-westerly,  hills 
might  bo  clearly  seen  at  the  distance  of 
twenty  miles,  though  the  intermediate 
space  was  ?o  shaded  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  distinguish  woodland  from  pasture. 
At  half-pa  ;t  twelve,  the  clouds,  having 
been  hitherto  detached,  began  to  concen- 
trate at  such  an  height,  that  all  the  hills 
became  visible,  and  the  country  around 
exhibited  a  most  beautiful  tinted  verdure ; 
at  one,  the  clouds  became  uniformly 
spread,  and  the  darkness  was  not  greater 


CHANGE   OF  SCENE   AFTEK  THE   DAKK  DAY. 


In  Middlesex  county,  Mass ,  the  peals 
of  thunder  were  loud  and  frequent  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  attended  with 
heavy  rain ;  at  seven  o'clock,  the  rain  and 
thunder  had  ceased,  but  the  sky  contin- 
ued cloudy.  Between  nine  and  ten  o'clock, 
the  clouds  were  observed  to  thicken,  and 
to  receive  continual  accessions  from  the 
low  lands.  Before  ten,  the  darkness  had 
sensibly  increased,  till  it  became  difficult 
to  read  an  almanac  in  a  room  having  two 
windows ;  at  eleven  o'clock,  candles  were 
lighted,  and  at  half -past  eleven  the  dark- 
ness was  so  great  in  the  meeting-house, 
where  a  court  was  then  sitting,  that  it 
was  difficult  to  distinguish  countenances 
at  the  smallest  distance,  notwithstanding 
the  large  number  of  windows  usual  in 


than  is  usual  on  a  cloudy  day.  The  same 
weather  continued  through  the  whole 
afternoon,  except  that  the  sun  was  seen 
for  a  few  minutes,  in  some  places,  about 
three  o'clock.  At  eight  in  the  evening, 
the  darkness  was  so  impenetrably  thick, 
as  to  render  traveling  positively  imprac- 
ticable ;  and,  although  the  moon  rose 
nearly  full  about  nine  o'clock,  yet  it  did 
not  give  light  enough  to  enable  a  person 
to  distinguish  between  the  heavens  and 
the  earth. 

In  the  account  of  this  phenomenon  given 
by  Dr.  Tenney,  of  New  Hampshire,  an  in- 
telligent observer  and  writer,  are  some 
interesting  details,  gathered  by  him  while 
on  a  journey  to  Pennsylvania,  from  the 
east.  He  repeats  and  confirms  the  state- 


THE  WONDERFUL  DAEK  DAY. 


45 


ment  made  by  others,  that,  previously  to 
the  commencement  of  the  darkness,  the 
sky  was  overcast  with  the  common  .kind 
of  clouds,  from  which  there  was,  in  some 
places,  a  moderate  fall  of  rain.  Between 
tlie.se  and  the  earth,  there  intervened  an- 
other stratum,  apparently  of  great  thick- 
ness ;  as  this  stratum  advanced,  the  dark- 
ness commenced,  and  increased  with  its 
progress  till  it  came  to  its  height,  which 
did  not  take  place  till  the  hemisphere 
was  a  second  time  overspread — the  uncom- 
mon thickness  of  this  second  stratum  bo- 
ing  probably  occasioned  by  two  strong  cur- 
rents of  wind  from  the  southward  and 
westward,  condensing  the  vapors  and 
drawing  them  to  the  north-east. 

The  result  of  Dr.  Tenney's  journey, — 
during  which  he  made  the  best  use  of  his 
opportunities  for  information, — was,  that 
the  darkness  appeared  to  be  most  gross  in 
Essex  county,  Massachusetts,  the  lower 
part  of  the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
in  portions  of  what  was  then  the  province 
of  Maine.  In  Rhode  Island  and  Connect- 
icut it  was  not  so  great,  and  still  less  in 
New  York;  in  New  Jersey,  the  second 
stratum  of  clouds  was  observed,  but  it  was 
not  of  any  great  thickness,  nor  was  the 
darkness  very  uncommon ;  in  the  lower 
parts  of  Pennsylvania,  no  extraordinary 
scene  was  noticed. 

Through  the  whole  extent  of  country 
referred  to,  the  lower  cloud-stratum  had 
an  uncommon  brassy  hue,  while  the  earth 
and  trees  were  adorned  with  so  enchant- 
ing a  verdure  as  could  not  escape  notice, 
even  amidst  the  unusual  atmospheric 
gloom  that  accompanied  it.  The  dark- 
ness of  the  following  evening  was  proba- 
bly as  denp  and  dense  as  ever  had  been  ob- 
served since  the  Almighty  fiat  gave  birth 
to  light ;  it  wanted  only  palpability  to  ren- 
der it  as  extraordinary  as  that  which  over- 
spread the  land  of  Egypt,  in  the  days  of 
Moses.  If  every  luminous  body  in  the 
universe  had  been  shrouded  in  impenetra- 
ble shades,  or  struck  out  of  existence,  it 
was  thought  the  darkness  could  not  have 
been  more  complete.  A  sheet  of  whit's 
paper,  held  within  a  few  inches  of  the 


eyes,  was  equally  invisible  with  the  black- 
est velvet.  And,  considering  the  small 
quantity  of  light  that  was  transmitted 
by  the  clouds,  during  the  day,  it  is  not 
surprising  that,  at  night,  a  sufficient  quan- 
tity of  rays  should  not  be  able  to  penetrate 
the  same  strata,  brougl-J  back  by  tha  shift- 
ing of  the  winds,  to  afford  the  most  ob- 
scure prospect  even  of  the  best  reflecting 
bodies.  The  deiiseness  of  this  evening 
darkness  was  a  fact  universally  observed 
and  recorded. 

In  view  of  all  the  information  contained 
in  the  various  accounts  of  this  day,  it  ap- 
pears very  certain  that  the  atmosphere 
was  charged  with  an  unprecedented  quan- 
tity of  vapor, — from  what  primary  cause 
has  never  been  satisfactorily  determined; 
and  as  the  weather  had  been  clear,  the  air 
heavy,  and  the  winds  small  and  variable 
for  many  days,  the  vapors,  instead  of  dis- 
persing, must  have  been  constantly  rising 
and  collecting  in  the  air,  until  the  atmos- 
phere became  highly  charged  with  them. 

A  large  quantity  of  the  vapors,  thus 
collected  in  the  atmosphere,  on  the  day  in 
question,  was  floating  near  the  surface  of 
the  earth.  Wheresoever  the  specific  grav- 
ity of  any  vapor  is  less  than  the  specific 
gravity  of  the  air,  such  a  vapor  will,  by 
the  law  of  fluids,  ascend  in  the  air;  where 
the  specific  gravity  of  a  vapor,  in  the  at- 
mosphere, is  greater  than  that  of  the  air, 
sucli  a  vapor  will  descend ;  and  where  the 
specific  gravity  of  the  vapor  and  air  are 
the  same,  the  vapor  will  then  be  at  rest, — 
floating  or  swimming  in  the  atmosphere, 
without  ascending  or  descending.  From 
the  barometrical  observations,  it  appears 
that  the  weight  or  gravity  of  the  atmos- 
phere was  gradually  growing  less,  from 
the  morning  of  the  nineteenth  of  May, 
until  the  evening;  and  hence  the  vapors, 
in  most  places,  were  descending  from  the 
higher  parts  of  the  atmosphere,  toward* 
the  surface  of  the  earth.  According  to 
one  of  the  observations  cited,  the  vapors 
were  noticed  to  a  cend,  until  they  rose  to 
a  height  where  the  air  was  of  the  same 
specific  gravity — a  height  not  much  above 
the  adjacent  hills,  —  and  here  they  in- 


46 


THE  WONDERFUL  DARK  DAY. 


stantly  spread,  and  floated  in  the  atmos- 
phere. From  these  data,  the  conclusion 
is  drawn,  that  the  place  where  the  vapors 
were  balanced  must  have  been  very  near 
the  surface  of  the  earth. 

Reasoning  from  the  premises  thus  set 
forth,  Prof.  Williams  was  of  the  opinion 
that  such  a  large  quantity  of  vapor,  float- 
ing in  the  atmosphere,  near  the  earth's 
surface,  might  be  sufficient  to  produce  all 
the  phenomena  that  made  the  nineteenth 
of  May,  1780,  so  memorable.  Thus,  the 
direction  in  which  the  darkness  came  on 
would  be  determined  by  the  direction  of 
the  wind,  and  this  was  known  to  be  from 
the  south-west;  the  degree  of  the  dark- 
ness would  depend  on  the  density,  color, 
and  situation  of  the  clouds  and  vapor,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  would  transmit, 
refl<  ct,  refract,  or  absorb  the  rays  of  light; 
the  extent  of  the  darkness  would  be  as 
great  as  the  extent  of  the  vapor ;  and  the 
duration  of  it  would  continue  until  the 
gravity  of  the  air  became  so  altered  that 
the  vapors  would  change  their  situation, 
by  an  ascent  or  descent; — all  of  which 
particulars,  it  is  claimed,  agree  with  the 
observations  that  have  been  mentioned. 
Nor  does  the  effect  of  the  vapors,  in  dark- 
ening terrestrial  objects,  when  they  lay 
near  the  surface  of  the  earth,  appear  to 
have  been  greater  than  it  was  in  darken- 
ing the  sun  and  moon,  when  their  situa- 
tion was  higher  in  the  atmosphere. 

It  being  thus  evident  that  the  atmos- 
pnere  was,  from  some  peculiar  cause  (per- 
haps great  fires  in  distant  woods)  charged, 
in  a  high  degree,  with  vapors,  and  that 
these  vapors  were  of  different  densities 
and  occupied  different  heights, — the  de- 
Auction  is,  that  by  this  means  the  rays  of 
light  falling  on  them  must  have  suffered  a 
variety  of  refractions  and  reflections,  and 
thereby  become  weakened,  absorbed,  or  so 
reflected,  as  not  to  fall  upon  objects  on  the 
earth  in  the  usual  manner;  and  as  the 
different  vapors  were  adapted  by  their 
nature,  situation,  or  density,  to  absorb  or 
transmit  the  different  kind  of  rays,  so  the 
co'.ori  of  objects  would  appear  to  be  af- 
fected by  the  mixture  or  prevalency  of 


those  rays  which  were  transmitted  through 
so  uncommon  a  medium.  This  was  the 
explanation  suggested  by  Prof.  Williams, 
though  not  to  the  exclusion  of  other  the- 
ories. 

But  there  were  not  wanting  those — and 
a  large  number  they  were  too— who  gave 
play,  in  their  minds,  to  the  most  strange 
opinions  concerning  the  cause  of  so  mar- 
velous an  appearance.  It  was  imagined 
by  some  persons,  that  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun,  produced  of  course  by  an  interposition 
of  the  moon,  was  the  cause  of  the  darkness 
— others  attributed  it  to  a  transit  of  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun — 
others  imputed  it  to  a  blazing  star,  which 
they  thought  came  between  the  earth  and 
the  sun.  So  whimsical,  indeed,  were  some 
of  the  opinions  which  possessed  men's 
minds  at  this  time,  that  even  so  bare  a 
vagary  as  that  a  great  mountain  obstructed 
the  rays  of  the  sun's  light  during  that 
day,  obtained  advocates  !  Whether  they 
thought  that  a  new  mountain  was  created 
and  placed  between  the  earth  and  the  sun, 
or  that  a  mountain  from  this  globe  had 
taken  flight  and  perched  upon  that  great 
luminary,  does  not  appear. 

That  this  darkness  was  not  caused  by 
an  eclipse,  is  manifest  by  the  various  posi- 
tions of  the  planetary  bodies  at  that  time, 
for  the  moon  was  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  degrees  from  the  sun  all  that 
day,  and,  according  to  the  accurate  calcu- 
lations made  by  the  most  celebrated  as- 
tronomers, there  could  not,  in  the  order  of 
nature,  be  any  transit  of  the  planet  Venus 
or  Mercury  upon  the  disc  of  the  sun  that 
year ;  nor  could  it  be  a  blazing  star — much 
less  a  mountain, — that  darkened  the  at- 
mosphere, for  this  would  still  leave  unex- 
plained the  deep  darkness  of  the  following 
night.  Nor  would  such  excessive  noc- 
turnal darkness  follow  an  eclipse  of  the 
sun;  and  as  to  the  moon,  she  was  at  that 
time  more  than  forty  hours'  motion  past 
her  opposition. 

One  of  the  theories,  looking  to  a  solution 
of  the  mysterious  occurrence,  which  found 
defenders,  was  as  follows  :  The  heat  of  the 
sun  causes  an  ascent  of  numerous  particles 


THE  WONDERFUL  DAKK  DAY. 


47 


which  consist  of  different  qualities,  such  as 
aqueous,  sulphurous,  bituminous,  salinous, 
etc. ;  heuce  the  waters  of  the  seas,  rivers, 
and  ponds ;  the  fumes  of  burning  volca- 
noes, caused  by  subterraneous  veins  of 
liquid  fire;  all  the  other  kinds  of  smoke — 
fat,  combustibles,  oily  matter  from  various 
kinds  of  earth,  the  juice  of  trees,  plants 
and  herbs ;  salinous  and  nitrous  particles 
from  salt,  snow  water,  and  kindred  sources ; 
— these  are  exhaled  into  the  regions  of  the 
air,  where  their  positions  are  subject  to 
various  mutations  or  changes  by  reason  of 
the  motion  and  compression  of  the  air, 
causing  them  to  bo  sometimes  rarefied  and 
sometimes  condensed.  It  was  (according 
to  this  theory,)  a  vast  collection  of  such 
particles  that  caused  the  day  of  darkness  ; 
that  is,  the  particles,  after  being  exhaled, 
were  driven  together  by  certain  winds 
from  opposite  points  of  the  compass,  and 
condensed  to  such  a  degree  by  the  weight 
of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  that  they  ob- 
structed the  appearance  of  the  rays  of  the 
sun  by  day,  aid  those  of  the  moon  by 
night. 

Having  thus  presented  the  facts  and 
circumstances  pertaining  to  this  notable 
day  in  the  history  of  the  New  England  or 
northern  states,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to 
add,  that  a  similar  day  of  mysterious  dark- 
ness occurred  on  October  21,  1716 ;  the 
day  was  so  dark,  that  people  were  forced 
to  light  candles  to  dine  by, — a  darkness 
which  could  not  proceed  from  any  eclipse, 
a  solar  eclipse  having  taken  place  on  the 
f.uirth  of  that  month.  There  was  also  a 
remarkable  darkness  at  Detroit  and  vicin- 
ity, October  19, 1762,  being  almost  total  for 
'he  greater  part  of  the  day.  It  was  dark 
it  Jay-break,  and  this  continued  until  nine 
o'clock,  when  it  cleared  up  a  little,  and,  for 
the  space  of  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
the  body  of  the  sun  was  visible,  it  appear- 
ing as  red  as  blood,  and  more  than  three 


times  as  large  as  usual.  The  air,  all  this 
time,  was  of  a  dingy  yellowish  color.  At 
half-past  one  o'clock,  it  was  so  dark  as  to 
necessitate  the  lighting  of  candles,  in 
order  to  attend  to  domestic  duties.  At 
about  three  in  the  afternoon,  the  darkness 
became  more  dense,  increasing  in  intensity 
until  half-past  three,  when  the  wind 
breezed  up  from  the  southwest  and  brought 
on  a  slight  fall  of  rain,  accompanied  with 
a  profuse  quantity  of  fine  black  particles, 
in  appearance  much  like  sulphur,  both  in 
smell  and  quality.  A  sheet  of  clean  paper, 
held  out  in  this  rain,  was  rendered  quite 
black  wherever  the  drops  fell  upon  it ;  but, 
when  held  near  the  fire,  it  turned  to  a  yel- 
low color,  and,  when  burned,  it  fizzed  on 
the  paper,  like  wet  powder.  So  black  did 
these  powdery  particles  turn  everything 
upon  which  they  fell,  that  even  the  river 
was  covered  with  a  black  froth,  which, 
when  skimmed  off  the  surface,  resembled 
the  lather  of  soap,  with  this  difference,  that 
it  was  more  greasy,  and  its  color  as  black 
as  ink.  At  seven,  in  the  evening,  the  air 
was  more  clear.  This  phenomenon  was 
observed  throughout  a  vast  region  of  coun- 
try ;  and,  though  various  conjectures  were 
indulged  in,  as  to  the  cause  of  so  extraor- 
dinary an  occurrence,  the  same  degree  of 
mystery  attaches  to  it  as  to  that  of  1780, — 
confounding  the  wisdom  even  of  the  most 
learned  philosophers  and  men  of  science. 

It  may  easily  be  imagined,  that,  as  the 
deep  and  mysterious  darkness  which  cov- 
ered the  land  on  the  memorable  nineteenth 
of  May  filled  all  hearts  with  wonder — and 
multitudes  with  fear, — so,  the  return,  at 
last,  of  that  brightness  and  beauty  charac- 
teristic of  the  month  and  of  the  season, 
brought  gladness  again  to  the  faces  of  the 
young,  and  composure  to  the  hearts  of  the 
aged ;  for  never  before  did  nature  appear 
clothed  in  so  charming  an  attire  of  sun- 
shine, sky  and  verdure. 


IV. 
TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD.— 1780. 


Darkest  Page  in  American  Revolutionary  History. — Plot  to  Deliver  West  Point,  the  Gibraltar  of  Amer- 
ica, Over  to  the  British. — Movements  of  the  Guilty  Parties. — Discovery  and  Frustration  of  the  Crime. 
— Major  Andre,  the  British  Spy,  is  Captured,  and  Swings  from  a  Gibbet. — Escape  of  Arnold  to  the 
Enemy. — Is  Spurned  and  Isolated  in  England. — Arnold's  Unquestioned  Bravery. — Commended  by 
General  Washington. — Infamous  Personal  Transactions  — Reprimanded  by  his  Chief — Determines  on 
Revenge. — Correspondence  with  the  Foe — Ingratiates  Washington's  Favor  Again. — Obtains  Com- 
mand of  West  Point. — Midnight  Conference  with  Andre. — Andre  Seized  while  Returning — Astound- 
ing Evidence  Against  Him. — Attempts  to  Bribe  His  Captors. — Carried  to  American  Head-Quarters. — 
Arnold  Apprised  of  the  Event. — A  Hurried  Farewell  to  His  Wile. — Quick  Pursuit  of  the  Traitor. — 
He  Reaches  a  British  Man-of-War. — Washington's  Exclamation  at  the  News  — His  Call  on  Mrf  Ar- 
nold — Andre's  Trial  and  Conviction. — Arnold's  Reward  for  His  Crime. — His  Dnlamented  Death. 


"  Providence,  which  has  BO  often  and  BO  remarkably  interposed  in  our  favor,  never  morifested  itself  more  conspicuously  than  in  the  timely 
discovery  of  Arnold's  horrid  intention  to  surrender  the  post  and  garrison  of  West  Point  to  the  enemy."—  WASHIKOTOM. 


AEK  and  tragical,  indeed,  is  that  page  in  the  history  of 
the  American  revolutionary  war,  which  records  Benedict 
Arnold's  atrocious  scheme  of  treason  against  his  native 
land,  in  its.  struggle  against  British  oppression.     Equally 
strange  and  startling  is  the  story  which  narrates  the  dis- 
^  covery  and  frustration  of  so  perfidious  a  plot.     Around 
'    the  memory  of  the  unfortunate  Andre,  pity  still  wreathes 

_  her  romantic  chaplet ;  while  the  name  of  Arnold  will, 

|Hg5=-'=!^yy^':  to  the  end  of  time,  transfix  every  patriotic  mind,  as  that 
PRICE  OP  ARNOLD'S  TREASON.  of  the  blackest  among  modern  criminals.  The  treacher- 
ous deed  wa«  committed,  too,  in  a  year  of  deep  depression  on  the  part  of  the  Americans. 
Of  Arnold,  personally  and  professionally,  it  may  be  remarked,  that  he  was  born  in 
Norwich,  Connecticut,  in  1740,  and  began  his  business  career  at  an  early  age,  as  a  horse- 
dealer,  and  not  over-scrupulous.  He  was  also  for  a  time  a  druggist  and  bookseller  in 
New  Haven.  At  the  beginning  of  the  war  of  the  Eevolution  he  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  a  volunteer  company,  and  soon  distinguished  himself ;  was  associated  also  with 
General  Montgomery  in  the  expedition  against  Quebec.  In  this  latter  most  disastrous 
affair,  undertaken  in  severe  weather,  his  illustrious  colleague  lost  his  life,  and  Arnold, 
who  was  severely  wounded  in  the  leg,  displayed  the  highest  abilities  as  a  commander 
and  the  greatest  gallantry  as  a  soldier,  eliciting  Washington's  warmest  esteem  and  ad- 
miration. But,  licentious  and  rapacious  as  he  was  brave  and  intelligent,  he  plundered 
Montreal  in  his  retreat,  and  by  his  misconduct  exasperated  the  minds  of  the  Canadians, 
who  previously  were  not  hostile  to  the  Revolution.  After  exhibiting  great  courage 
and  skill  on  Lake  Champlain,  at  Fort  Schuyler,  and  the  battle  of  Stillwater,  his  leg 
was  shattered  by  a  ball  on  the  seventh  of  October,  1777,  in  a  daring  assault  on 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


49 


the  English  lines,  which  he  penetrated,  and 
but  for  his  wound  would  have  carried. 
Being  thus  unfitted  for  active  service,  he 
was  appointed  commander  of  the  garrison 
at  Philadelphia,  but  his  dissipation,  extor- 
tion, and  peculation,  at  last  subjected  him 
to  a  trial  by  court  martial,  and  to  a  repri- 
mand from  Washington,  at  the  beginning 
of  1779.  This  sentence  was  approved  by 
Congress,  and  carried  into  execution  by 
General  Washington.  Embarrassed  in  his 
circumstances,  disappointed  in  his  expec- 
tations, and  exasperated  by  disgrace,  he 
formed  the  design  of  retrieving  his  misfor- 
tunes and  satisfying  his  revenge,  by  be- 
traying his  country.  It  was  in  this  wise : 

While  the  British  army  was  in  Phila- 
delphia, in  the  spring  of  1778,  a  grand 
parting  entertainment  was  given  by  the 
royalists  to  Sir  William  Howe,  the  British 
commander-in-chief.  Major  Andre,  made 
Adjutant-General  of  the  army  by  Howe's 
successor,  was  one  of  the  chief  managers 
of  the  affair.  Miss  Shippen,  a  Philadel- 
phia belle  (and  who  subsequently  became 
Mrs.  Arnold),  figured  conspicuously  among 
the  actors  of  the  entertainment,  and  she 
and  Andre  kept  up  a  correspondence  after- 
ward. Through  this  channel  Arnold  saw, 
after  his  marriage  with  Miss  Shippen,  an 
opportunity  for  communicating  with  Sir 
Henry  Clinton,  the  British  commander  at 
New  York.  In  other  words,  he  deter- 
mined to  betray  his  country, — being,  in 
this  respect,  an  almost  solitary  instance, 
Dr.  Benjamin  Church,  of  Massachusetts, 
surgeon-general,  being  the  other  principal 
offender. 

Under  fictitious  names,  and  in  the  dis- 
guise of  mercantile  business,  Arnold  was 
even  now  in  treacherous  correspondence 
with  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  through  Major 
Andre.  To  him  the  British  general  com- 
mitted the  maturing  of  Arnold's  treason, 
and,  to  facilitate  measures  for  its  execu- 
tion, the  sloop  of  war  Vulture  moved  up 
the  North  river,  and  took  a  station  con- 
venient for  the  purpose,  but  not  so  near  as 
to  excite  suspicion.  An  interview  was 
agreed  on,  and  in  the  night  of  September 
twenty-first,  1780,  he  was  taken  in  a  boat, 


which  was  dispatched  for  the  purpose,  and 
carried  to  the  beach,  without  the  posts  of 
both  armies,  under  a  pass  for  John  Ander- 
son. He  met  General  Arnold  at  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Smith. 

Yielding  with  reluctance  to  the  urgent 
representations  of  Arnold,  Andre  laid  aside 
his  regimentals,  which  he  had  hitherto 
worn  under  a  surtout,  putting  on  a  suit  of 
ordinary  clothes  instead ;  and  now,  receiv- 
ing a  pass  from  the  American  general, 
authorizing  him,  under  the  feigned  name 
of  John  Anderson,  to  "proceed  on  the 
public  service  to  the  White  Plains,  or 
lower  if  he  thought  proper,"  he  set  out  on 
his  return  in  the  evening  of  the  twenty- 
second,  accompanied  by  Joshua  Smith,  and 
passed  the  night  at  Crompond.  The  next 
morning  he  crossed  the  Hudson  to  King's 
Ferry  on  the  east  side.  A  little  beyond 
the  Croton,  Smith  deeming  him  safe,  bade 
him  adieu.  Alone,  and  without  having 
excited  the  least  suspicion,  Andre  passed 
the  American  guards,  and  was  silently 
congratulating  himself  that  he  had  passed 
all  danger,  when,  coming  to  a  place  whore 
a  small  stream  crossed  the  road  and  ran 
into  a  woody  dell,  a  man  stepped  out  from 
the  trees,  leveled  a  musket,  and  brought 
him  to  a  stand,  while  two  other  men,  sim- 
ilarly armed,  showed  themselves  prepared 
to  second  their  comrades.  The  man  who 
at  first  stepped  out  wore  a  refugee  uniform. 
At  sight  of  it,  Andre's  heart  leapt,  and  he 
felt  himself  secure.  Losing  all  caution, 
he  exclaimed  eagerly : 

"Gentlemen,  where  do  you  belong?  I 
hope  to  our  party  ! " 

"  What  party?"  was  their  immediate 
inquiry  in  response ;  the  trio  consisting  of 
scouting  militiamen,  named  Paulding, 
Williams,  and  Vau  Wart. 

"The  party  below,"  —  meaning  New 
York,  was  the  answer. 

"  We  do,"  was  the  shrewd  reply  of  the 
three,  as  they  now  seized  the  bridle  of  the 
unfortunate  man's  horse,  and  challenged 
his  business  in  that  place. 

Seeing,  beyond  all  doubt,  the  hands  he 
had  fallen  into,  Andre  quickly  shifted  his 
tactics  by  jocosely  remarking  that  what  he 


5U 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


had  first  represented  himself  to  be  was 
merely  by  way  of  badinage,  and  that  he 
was  in  reality  a  Continental  officer,  going 
down  to  Dobbs  Ferry  to  get  information 
from  below ;  so  saying,  he  drew  forth  and 
showed  them  the  pass  from  General  Arnold. 
This  in  the  first  place  would  have  sufficed, , 
but  his  strange  conduct  and  imprudent 
speech  had  so  thoroughly  betrayed  him, 
that  the  three  militiamen  insisted  on 
searching  his  person.  They  therefore 
obliged  him  to  take  off  his  coat  and  vest, 
and  found  on  him  eighty  dollars  in  Conti- 
nental money,  but  nothing  to  warrant  sus- 
picion of  anything  sinister,  and  were  about 
to  let  him  proceed,  when  one  of  them — 


marks  on  the  works ;  also  other  important 
documents. 

While  dressing  again,  Andre  endeavored 
to  ransom  himself  from  his  captors.  He 
would  give  any  sum  of  money,  if  they 
would  let  him  go ;  would  give  his  horse, 
saddle,  bridle,  gold  watch,  and  one  hundred 
guineas,  and  would  send  them  to  any  place 
that  might  be  fixed  upon. 

Williams  asked,  ironically,  whether  ht 
would  not  give  more  than  all  that. 

Andre  replied,  that  he  would  give  any 
reward  they  might  name  either  in  goods 
or  money,  and  would  remain  with  two  of 
'their  party  while  one  went  to  New  Yorl' 
to  get  it. 


-r 

CAPTURE  OF  ANDRE. 


Paulding,  a  stout-hearted  youngster— ex- 
claimed : 

"Boys,  I  am  not  satisfied — his  boots 
must  come  off." 

At  this  Andre  changed  color.  His 
boots,  he  said,  came  off  with  difficulty,  and 
he  begged  he  might  not  be  subjected  to 
the  inconvenience  and  delay.  His  remon- 
strances were  in  vain.  He  was  compelled 
|  to  sit  down  ;  his  boots  were  drawn  off  and 
the  concealed  papers  discovered.  Hastily 
scanning  them,  Paulding  exclaimed — 

"My  God!     He  is  a  spy!" 

The  papers,  which  were  in  the  hand- 
writing of  Arnold,  contained  exact  returns 
of  the  state  of  the  forces,  ordnance,  and 
defences  of  West  Point,  with  critical  re- 


Here  Paulding  broke  in  and  declared 
with  an  oath,  that  if  he  would  give  ten 
thousand  guineas  he  should  not  stir  one 
step. 

On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-eighth  of 
September,  Andre,  in  charge  of  Major 
Tallmadge,  was  conveyed  in  a  barge  to 
King's  Ferry.  Being  both  young,  of  equal 
ra'nk,  and  prepossessing  manners,  a  frank 
and  cordial  intercourse  grew  up  between 
them.  By  a  cartel,  mutually  agreed  upon, 
each  might  put  to  the  other  any  question 
not  involving  a  third  person.  They  were 
passing  below  the  rocky  heights  of  West 
Point  and  in  full  view  of  the  frowning 
fortress,  when  Tallmadge  asked  Andre 
whether  he  would  have  taken  an  actrv* 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


part  in  the  attack  on  it,  should  Arnold's 
plan  have  succeeded. 

Andre  promptly  answered  this  question 
in  the  affirmative;  pointed  out  a  table  of 
land  on  the  west  shore,  where  he  would 
have  landed  a  select  corps,  described  the 
route  he  would  have  taken  up  the  moun- 
tain to  a  height  in  the  rear  of  Fort  Put- 
nam, overlooking  the  whole  parade  of 
West  Point — "and  this  he  did,"  writes 
Tallmadge,  "  with  much  greater  exactness 
than  I  could  have  done.  This  eminence 
he  would  have  reached  without  difficulty, 
as  Arnold  would  have  disposed  of  the  gar- 
rison in  such  manner  as  to  be  capable  of 
little  or  no  opposition — and  then  the  key 


public  ear,  and  all  hearts  turned  for  relief 
to  the  wisdom  of  Washington  Unfortu- 
nately for  the  ends  of  justice,  Andre  asked 
permission  of  Colonel  Jameson,  as  soon  as 
he  was  taken  to  the  latter's  custody,  to 
write  to  General  Arnold,  to  inform  him 
that  '  Anderson '  was  detained.  Not 
knowing  the  rank  of  his  prisoner  nor  the 
magnitude  of  the  plot,  the  letter  was  al- 
lowed by  Jameson  to  be  sent,  and  Arnold, 
being  thus  apprised,  escaped.  Colonel 
Jameson  also  forwarded  to  General  Wash- 
ington the  papers  found  on  the  prisoner, 
and  a  statement  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  was  taken. 

The  papers  sent  to  Washington  missed 


'\f  the  country  would  have  been  in  his 
hands,  and  he  would  have  had  the  glory 
of  the  splendid  achievement."  Tallmadge 
ventured  to  ask  Andre  what  was  to  have 
been  his  reward  had  he  succeeded.  To 
this  the  reply  was  :  "  Military  glory  was 
all  I  sought  The  thanks  of  my  general 
and  the  approbation  of  my  king  would 
have  been  a  rich  reward  for  such  an  under- 
taking." Tallmadge  also  adds  :  "  I  think 
he  further  remarked,  that,  if  he  had  suc- 
ceeded, he  was  to  have  been  promoted  to 
the  rank  of  a  brigadier-general." 

The  news  of  Andre's  arrest  and  Arnold's 
treason  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon  the 


him,  as  he  did  not  return  by  the  road  he 
went,  but  took  the  northern  route  to  Fish- 
kill,  where,  September  twenty-fourth,  he 
arrived  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  very  day 
after  Andre's  capture, — of  which  event 
and  of  Arnold's  treason  he  was  wholly 
unconscious.  Stopping  at  Fishkill  only  a 
short  time,  he  pushed  on  for  the  quarters 
of  his  brave  general,  Arnold,  some  eighteen 
miles  distant.  He  had  gone,  however,  but 
a  mile  or  two,  before  he  met  the  French 
minister,  Chevalier  Luzerne,  on  his  way  to 
Newport,  to  visit  Rochambeau,  the  French 
naval  commander.  The  latter  prevailed 
on  him  to  return  to  Fishkill  for  the  night, 


52 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


as  he  had  matters  of  importance  to  com- 
municate. 

The  next  morning,  Washington  was 
early  in  the  saddle,  having  sent  word  be- 
forehand to  Arnold  that  he  would  break- 
fast with  him.  It  was  a  bright  autumnal 
morning,  and  the  whole  party  in  high 
spirits  pushed  rapidly  forward  through  the 
gorges  of  the  Highlands.  As  they  came 
opposite  West  Point,  Washington,  instead 
of  continuing  on  to  Arnold's  quarters, 
which  were  on  the  same  side,  turned  his 
horse  down  a  narrow  road  toward  the 
river.  Lafayette  observing  this,  ex- 
claimed— 

"  General,  you  are  going  in  the  wrong 
direction ;  you  know  Mrs.  Arnold  is  wait- 
ing breakfast  for  us,  and  that  road  will 
take  us  out  of  the  way." 


Jameson,  commanding  at  North  Castle, 
announcing  the  capture  of  Andre,  and  who 
had  been  brought  in  to  Jameson's  post,  by 
three  militiamen,  Paulding,  Williams,  and 
Van  Wart,  his  captors,  whom  the  gallant 
but  unfortunate  man  vainly  endeavored  to 
bribe,  in  order  to  his  release.  They  knew 
him  to  be  a  spy,  but  were  ignorant  of  his 
military  rank. 

Merely  remarking  that  his  presence  at 
West  Point  was  necessary,  Arnold  re- 
quested the  aids  to  say  to  Washington  on 
his  arrival  that  he  was  unexpectedly  called 
over  the  river,  and  would  be  back  soon. 
Repairing  to  his  wife's  chamber,  he  sent 
for  her  at  the  breakfast  table,  and  told  her 
that  he  must  instantly  leave  her  and  his 
country  forever,  for  death  was  his  certain 
doom  if  he  did  not  reach  the  enemy  before 


WEST   POINT   IN   1780. 


"  Ah  !  "  replied  Washington,  laughingly, 
"  I  know  you  young  men  are  all  in  love 
with  Mrs.  Arnold,  and  wish  to  get  where 
she  is  as  soon  as  possible.  You  may  go 
and  take  breakfast  with  her,  and  tell  her 
not  to  wait  for  me.  I  must  ride  down  and 
examine  the  redoubts  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  and  will  be  there  in  a  short  time." 

The  officers  preferring  not  to  proceed 
without  him,  two  aids  were  dispatched  to 
tell  Arnold  not  to  wait  breakfast.  The 
latter,  therefore,  with  his  family  and  the 
two  aids  sat  down  to  the  table.  While 
they  were  conversing  on  indifferent  topics, 
a  messenger  entered  and  handed  a  letter 
to  Arnold,  who  opened  and  read  it  in  pres- 
ence of  the  company,  without,  of  course,  di- 
vulging its  contents.  It  was  from  Colonel 


he  was  detected.  Paralyzed  by  the  sud- 
den blow,  she  fell  senseless  at  his  feet. 
Not  daring  to  call  for  help,  Arnold  left  her 
in  that  state,  and  rapidly  descending  to  the 
door,  mounted  one  of  the  horses  belonging 
to  Washington's  aids,  and  taking  a 
by-way  pushed  for  the  river,  where  his 
barge  was  moored.  Jumping  in,  he  or- 
dered his  six  oarsmen  to  pull  for  Teller's 
Point.  Stimulating  them  to  greater 
efforts  by  the  promise  of  two  gallons  of 
rum,  he  swept  rapidly  past  Verplanck's 
Point,  and  as  he  approached  the  British 
ship  Vulture,  waved  a  white  handkerchief, 
and  was  soon  on  board.  In  the  meantime, 
Washington,  'having  finished  his  survey, 
rode  on  to  Arnold's  house.  Taking  a 
hasty  breakfast,  and  being  informed  that 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENEKAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


53 


Mrs.  Arnold  was  in  her  room,  unwell,  he 
said  he  would  not  wait  for  Arnold  to 
return,  but  cross  over  to  West  Point  and 
meet  him  there.  As  the  boat  swept  over 
the  water,  he  remarked — 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  am  glad  on  the 
whole  that  General  Arnold  has  gone  before 
us,  for  we  shall  now  have  a  salute,  and  the 
roaring  of  the  cannon  will  have  a  fine 
effect  among  these  mountains." 

At  this  moment  an  officer  was  seen 
coming  down  the  rocky  hill-side,  to 
meet  the  barge.  It  was  Colonel 
Lamb,  who  looked  Confounded  on 
seeing  the  commander-in-chief.  He 
commenced  an  apology,  declaring 
that  he  was  wholly  ignorant  of  his 
excellency's  intention  to  visit  West 
Point. 

"  How  is  this,  sir,"  broke  in  Wash- 
ington, "  is  not  General  Arnold  here  ?  " 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  colonel,  "he  has 
not  been  here  these  two  days,  nor  have  I 
heard  from  him  in  that  time." 

"This  is  extraordinary,"  replied  Wash- 
ington ;  "he  left  word  that  he  had  crossed 
the  river.  However,  our  visit  must  not 
be  in  vain.  Since  we  have  come,  we  must 
look  around  and  see  in  what  state  things 
are  with  you." 

And  now  it  was  that  Hamilton  broke 
the  astounding  news  to  his  chief.  The 
latter,  stunned  and  bewildered,  ordered 
Hamilton  to  mount  a  horse  and  ride  as  for 
life  to  Verplanck's  Point,  and  stop  Arnold, 
if  possible ;  he  called  in  Knox  and  Lafay- 
ette, and  told  them  what  had  occurred, 
merely  remarking  at  the  close,  "  Whom 
can  we  trust  now?"  His  countenance 
was  calm  as  ever,  and  being  informed  that 
Arnold's  wife  was  in  a  state  bordering  on 
insanity,  he  went  up  to  her  room  to  soothe 
her.  In  her  frenzy  she  upbraided  him 
with  being  in  a  plot  to  murder  her  child. 
One  moment  she  raved,  another  she  melted 
into  tears.  Sometimes  she  pressed  her 
infant  to  her  bosom  and  lamented  its  fate, 
occasioned  by  the  imprudence  of  its  father, 
in  a  manner  that  would  have  pierced  in- 
sensibility itself.  It  was  four  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  when  these  disclosures  of 


Arnold's  treason  and  Andre's  capture  were 
made  to  Washington,  and,  an  hour  later, 
dinner  being  announced,  he  said — 

"Come,  gentlemen,  since  Mrs.  Arnold 
is  unwell  and  the  general  is  absent,  let  us 
sit  down  without  ceremony." 

No  one  at  the  table  but  Knox  and  La- 
fayette knew  what  had  transpired,  nor 
did  Washington  exhibit  any  change  01 
demeanor,  except  that  he  was  more  than 


GENERAL  AKXOLD'S  HEAD-QOABTERS. 

usually  stern  in  his  voice  and  manner. 
But  his  mind,  oppressed  with  nameless 
fears,  wandered  far  away  from  that  dinner 
table,  and  no  sooner  was  the  quiet  repast 
over  than  he  addressed  himself  to  the  task 
before  him.  He  wrote  rapidly,  and  cour- 
iers were  soon  seen  galloping  in  every  di- 
rection. 'He  announced  the  treason  to 
Colonel  Wade,  commanding  at  West  Point, 
in  the  absence  of  Colonel  JLamb,  in  the 
single  sentence,  "  General  Arnold  is  gone 
to  the  enemy."  Having  done  all  he  could 
to  arrest  the  tremendous  evils  that  threat- 
ened to  overwhelm  him,  Washington  re- 
tired late  at  night  to  his  bed,  fearful  that 
the  sound  of  the  enemy's  cannon,  under 
the  auspices  of  Arnold's  treacherous 
schemes,  would  awake  him  before  day- 
light. It  happily  did  not  prove  so. 

A  court-martial,  having  condemned 
Andre  as  a  spy,  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  the 
British  general,  put  forth  every  effort  to 
avert  the  dreadful  fate  of  his  officer.  He 
sent  three  commissioners  to  reason  and  re- 
monstrate with  the  officers  of  the  court. 
He  appealed  to  Washington,  while  Arnold 
wrote  him  a  threatening  letter,  declaring 
if  Andre  was  hung  he  would  revenge  his 
death  on  every  American  prisoner  that  fell 
into  his  hands.  Washington  deigned  no 
reply  to  the  letter,  but  tenderly  forwarded 


54 


TREASON  OF  MAJOR-GENERAL  BENEDICT  ARNOLD. 


Mrs.  Arnold  and  her  baggage  over  to  the 
British  side. 

Washington,  though  his  heart  was  filled 
with  the  keenest  sorrow  for  the  fate  of  one 
so  universal!}'  beloved,  and  posse>.-ed  of 
such  noble  qualities  of  heart  and  mind, 
refused  to  arrest  the  course  of  justice.  As 
in  all  cases  where  great  trouble  came  upon 
him,  so  in  this,  he  said  but  little,  but 


sternly  and  silently  wrestled  with  it  alone. 
Arnold  was  made  brigadier-general  in  the 
British  service,  and  put  on  an  official  level 
with  honorable  men,  who  scorned,  how- 
ever, to  associate  with  him.  What  golden 
reward  he  was  to  have  received  had  he 
;.succeeded  in  delivering  West  Point  to  the 
enemy,  is  not  known ;  £3Qr 000,  most  prob- 
ably. 


V. 


CORNWALLIS    SURRENDERS    HIS    SPLENDID    ARMY    TO 
GENERAL  WASHINGTON.— 1781. 


b'inal  Catastrophe  to  British  Arms  in  America. — Consternation  and  Despair  in  the  Cabinet  of  King 
George  — Their  Vaunted  Wager  of  Battle  Returns  to  Them  with  the  Loss  of  their  Fairest  Possession. 
— Washington's  Countrymen  Everywhere  Hail  and  Extol  Him  as  their  Deliverer. — Last  Act  in  the 
Military  Drama. — Cornwallis  Halts  at  Yorktown. — Makes  it  His  Defensive  Post. — Decoy  Letter 
Sent  by  Washington. — The  British  Strongly  Fortified. — American  and  French  Forces  United. — Their 
Advance  on  the  Enemy. — Furious  Bombardment. — Redoubts  Stormed  by  Lafayette. — Both  Sides 
Confident  of  Triumph. — British  Efforts  to  Retreat. — Cornwallis  Prefers  Death  to  Defeat.— Reckless 
Bravery  of  Washington. — Ardor  and  Exultation  of  His  Troops. — Cornwallis  Fails  of  Re-enforcements. 
— He  Asks  a  Cessation  of  Hostilities. — Forced  to  Yield  the  Struggle. — Universal  Rejoicing  of  Amer- 
icans.— Mortification  of  the  English. — Eloquence  of  Burke,  Fox,  and  Pitt. — They  Demand  that  the 
War  Cease. — The  Voice  of  Parliament. — Commemorative  Action  by  Congress. 


"Oh,  God!  It  IB  all  over— it  ia  all  over  r—LoED  NOBTU,  PRIME  MINISTER  or  ENGLAND,  ON  HEJLBIXQ  or  COKIT-VTALLIS'S  SURRENDER. 


T  the  head  of  a  powerful  army,  with 
which  he  had  just  established  himself 
in  Virginia,  Lord  Cornwallis  vaunt- 
ingly  wrote  to  General  Clinton,  his 
superior,  as  follows  : — 

"I  have  ventured,  these  last  two 
days,  to  look  General  Washington's 
whole  force  in  the  face,  in  the  posi- 
tion on  the  outside  of  my  works,  and 
have  the  pleasure  to  assure  your  Ex- 
cellency that  there  is  but  one  wish 
throughout  the  army,  which  is,  that 
the  enemy  would  advance." 

Scarcely  did  Cornwallis  have 
time  to  awake  from  his  day-dream 
of  security,  when  a  courier  was 
thundering  at  the  doors  of  the 
Continental  Congress,  with  the 
following  dispatch  from  General 
Washington  :  "  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  congress  that  a  reduction  of  the  British  army, 
under  the  command  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  is  most  happily  effected.  The  unremitted  ardor, 
which  actuated  every  officer  and  soldier  in  the  combined  army  on  this  occasion,  has 
principally  led  to  this  important  event,  at  an  earlier  period  than  my  most  sanguine 
hopes  had  induced  me  to  expect.  The  singular  spirit  of  emulation,  which  animated  the 
whole  army  from  the  first  commencement  of  our  operations,  has  filled  my  mind  with  the 


THE   HOUSE  WHKRE   OOKJTWALLIS   SURRENDERED. 


6ti 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


highest  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  and  had 
given  me  the  happiest  presages  of  success." 

A  glorious  event,  one  eliciting  the 
most  unbounded  demonstrations  of  joy 
throughout  the  United  States,  and  which 
completely  destroyed  British  military 
power  at  the  s;outh,  thus  setting  the  seal  of 
American  success  upon  the  contest  with 
the  mother  country, — was  the  capture,  as 
announced  in  the  above  dispatch,  of  Lord 
Cornwallis  and  his  splendid  army,  at  York- 
town,  Virginia,  in  October,  1781,  by  the 
combined  American  and  French  forces 
under  General  Washington  and  Counts  de 
Rochambeau  and  Grasse. 

Jn  the  summer  of  1781,  Cornwallis  had 
taken  possession  of  several  places  in  the 
south,  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  de- 
sirous of  establishing  himself  firmly  in 
Virginia,  he  accordingly  selected  York- 
town  as  a  suitable  defensive  post  and  capa- 
ble of  protecting  ships  of  the  line.  Little 
did  he  think,  as  he  began  leisurely  to  for- 
tify the  place,  that  it  was  a  net  which 
would  entangle  him  in  crushed  hopes  and 
ruined  fortunes.  Yorktown  is  situated  at 
the  narrowest  part  of  the  peninsula  formed 
by  the  York  and  James  rivers,  where  the 
distance  across  is  but  eight  miles.  By 
placing  his  troops,  therefore,  around  the 
village,  and  drawing  about  them  a  range 
of  outer  redoubts  and  field  works  calcu- 
lated to  command  this  peninsula,  Cornwal- 
lis had,  as  he  thought,  established  himself 
well. 

Lafayette,  with  an  inferior  number  of 
troops,  was  at  this  time  at  Williamsburg, 
but  was  unable  to  make  successful  engage- 
ments with  the  superior  force  of  the  Brit- 
ish. Seeing,  at  once,  the  importance  of 
putting  some  check  upon  the  progress  of 
Cornwallis  at  the  south,  Washington  de- 
termined to  unite  the  American  and  French 
forces,  then  in  the  neighborhood  of  New 
York,  and  join  Lafayette  at  Williamsburg. 
This  junction  was  effected  on  the  four- 
teenth of  September,  Washington  being  at 
the  head  of  the  American  troops,  and  the 
Count  de  Rochambeau  at  the  head  of  the 
French  forces.  At  the  same  time  the 
Count  de  Grasse,  with  his  fleet,  entered 


the  Chesapeake,  after  a  slight  engagement 
with  Admiral  Graves  off  the  capes,  and 
was  joined  by  the  squadron  of  the  Count 
de  Barras  from  Newport.  Three  thou- 
sand men,  under  the  Marquis  St.  Simon, 
were  also  added  to  the  troops  under  La- 
'f  fayette's  command ;  and  these  combined 
forces  then  moved  toward  Yorktown  and 
Gloucester,  where  Corwallis  was  sta- 
tioned. 

The  British  general  had  been  expecting 
aid  from  Sir  Henry  Clinton  at  the  north, 
but  so  adroitly  had  Washington  withdrawn 
his  troops,  that  Sir  Henry  scarcely  sus- 
pected his  design,  till  it  was  too  late  to 
frustrate  it.  On  the  thirteenth  of  Septem- 
ber, ths  allied  army  occupied  the  outer 
lines  of  Cornwallis,  which  that  general 
had  abandoned  without  a  struggle.  York- 
town  was  in  a  short  time  completely 
invested;  the  American  army  occupying 
the  right,  and  the  French  the  left,  forming 
a  semi-circle  with  each  wing  resting  upon 
the  river.  On  the  night  of  the  sixth  of 
October  the  besieging  army  broke  ground 
within  six  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines;  and  the  first  parallel  was  completed 
with  little  loss.  On  the  ninth  and  tenth, 
guns  were  mounted  on  the  works,  and  the 
batteries  began  to  play,  with  visible  effect, 
on  the  lines  of  the  enemy.  Many  of  their 
guns  were  soon  silenced,  and  their  works 
damaged.  By  the  eleventh,  the  enemy 
scarcely  returned  a  shot.  The  shells  and 
red-hot  balls  of  the  besiegers  reached  the 
shipping  in  the  harbor,  and  set  the  Charon 
frigate  cf  forty-four  guns,  and  several 
large  transports  on  fire,  which  were  en- 
tirely consumed.  On  the  night  of  the 
eleventh,  the  second  parallel  was  begun 
within  three  hundred  yards  of  the  British 
lines.  The  working  parties  were  not  dis- 
covered until  day-light,  when  the  trenches 
were  in  a  situation  to  cover  the  men. 

But  there  were  two  redoubts  in  particu- 
lar, in  front  of  the  British  lines  and  which 
flanked  the  second  parallel  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, that  gave  great  annoyance  to  the 
latter,  and  it  was  deemed  necessary  to 
carry  them  by  storm.  To  prevent  national 
jealousy,  however^  ar.d  to  keep  alive  the 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


57 


spirit  of  emulation  which  animated  the  co- 
operating armies,  the  attack  of  one  was 
assigned  to  tho  American  troops,  and  that 
of  the  other  to  the  French.  Lafayette 
commanded  the  American  detachment  and 
the  Baron  de  Yiominet  the  French. 
Colonel  Hamilton,  who  through  this  cam- 
paign commanded  a  battalion  of  light  in- 
fantry, led  the  advanced  corps  of  the 
Americans  to  the  assault,  while  Colonel 
Laurens  turned  the  redoubt  and  attacked 


in  his  confidence  of  triumph,  had  so  recently 
written  to  his  superior,  Sir  Henry  Clinton. 
Having  failed  in  his  sortie,  and  knowing 
that  his  position  had  become  untenable, 
the  British  general  took  the  desperate  res- 
olution of  crossing  over  to  Gloucester 
Point  in  the  night,  and  cutting  his  way 
through  the  blockading  force  there — then, 
mounting  his  men  ou  whatever  horses  he 
could  seize,  make  a  rapid  march  northward 
and  join  Sir  Henry  Clinton !  By  this 


COJUiWALLlS'S  BUttKKKDEB. 


in  the  rear,  to  prevent  the  retreat  of  the 
garrison.  Without  giving  time  for  the 
abattis  to  be  removed,  and  without  firing 
a  gun,  the  Americans  gallantly  assaulted, 
and  instantly  carried  the  works,  with  a 
small  loss  of  men  on  either  side.  The  re- 
doubt attacked  by  the  French  being  more 
strongly  garrisoned  made  greater  resist- 
ance, and  was  overcome  with  a  much  heav- 
ier loss.  The  success  of  these  movements 
was  a  stunning  blow  to  Cornwallis,  who, 


movement  he  would  abandon  his  sick  anu 
baggage;  but  he  would  save  himself  the 
disgrace  of  a  surrender.  Boats  were  se- 
cretly procured,  and  the  first  embarkation 
reached  the  point  safely  and  unperceived ; 
but,  at  this  juncture,  a  violent  storm  arose, 
which  drove  the  boats  down  the  river. 
The  tempest  continuing  until  day-light, 
the  enterprise  was  necessarily  given  up, 
and  the  troops  that  had  passed  over  gladly 
re-crossed  to  the  southern  field. 


58 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


In  the  mortification  and  anguish  of  his 
soul,  (Jornwallis  shed  tears,  and  expressed 
his  preference  for  death  rather  than  the 
ignominy  of  a  surrender.  But  there  was 
no  resource — the  handwriting  on  the  wall 
was  against  him — the  fate  of  war  must  be 
accepted.  The  siege  had  continued  close 
for  more  than  two  weeks,  and,  notwith- 
standing the  losses  in  killed,  wounded,  and 
missing,  that  had  been  sustained,  the  Brit- 
ish army  showed  a  handsome  force  of  be- 
tween seven  and  eight  thousand  trained 
fighting  men,  of  unquestioned  bravery,  but 
who  were  soon  to  capitulate  to  the  besieg- 
ing forces,  numbering,  in  all,  some  sixteen 
thousand  men,  less  disciplined,  perhaps, 
but  determined  and  indomitable. 

Of  Washington,  the  central  character 
and  actor  in  this  great  drama,  every 
American  heart  engrossingly  thinks. 
Knowing  that  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had 
•written  to  Cornwallis,  bidding  him  to 
strengthen  his  position  at  Yorktown,  and 
promising  him  the  immediate  aid  of  both 
land  and  naval  forces,  Washington  had, 
seasonably  and  with  shrewd  forecast,  writ- 
ten a  letter  to  Lafayette,  then  in  Virginia, 
which  he  caused  to  be  intercepted.  In  this 
letter  he  remarked  that  he  was  pleased 
with  the  probability  that  Earl  Cornwallis 
would  fortify  either  Portsmouth  or  Old 
Point  Comfort,  for,  were  he  to  fix  upon 
Yorktoivn,  from  its  great  capabilities  of 
defense,  he  might  remain  there  snugly  and 
unharmed,  until  a  superior  British  fleet 
would  relieve  him  with  strong  re-enforce- 
ments, or  embark  him  altogether. 

This  decoy  letter  quieted  the  apprehen- 
sions of  the  British  commander-in-chief  as 
to  the  danger  of  Cornwallis,  and  produced 
those  delays  in  the  operations  of  Sir  Henry, 
which,  as  will  have  been  seen,  tended  so 
materially  to  the  success  of  the  allies  and 
the  surrender  of  Yorktown.  Thus  it  was 
that  Washington  by  his  pen,  laid  the 
train  of  success  so  well.  Nor  less  so  with 
his  sword.  In  the  simultaneous  attack 
upon  the  redoubts,  made  by  the  combined 
American  and  French  army,  Washington 
was  an  intensely-excited  spectator.  He 
had  dismounted  from  his  horse — the  mag- 


nificent charger,  named  Nelson, — and  put 
him  in  the  care  of  a  servant,  while  the 
general  himself  took  his  stand  in  the  grand 
battery  with  his  two  chief  generals,  Lin- 
coln and  Knox,  and  their  aids,  and  here 
he  exposed  himself  to  every  danger. 

When  all  was  over,  at  this  critical  junc- 
ture,— -the  redoubts  being  taken,  and 
Washington's  intense  anxiety  so  happily 
relieved, — the  general  drew  a  long  breath, 
and  looking  at  Knox  with  an  expression 
of  extreme  satisfaction,  remarked,  briefly, 
"  The  work  is  done,  and  icell  done ! " 
Motioning  to  his  faithful  servant,  who  was 
quickly  in  his  presence,  he  said,  "William, 
bring  me  my  horse," — mounting  which,  the 
chieftain  proceeded  to  make  sure  that  the 
success  which  had  attended  the  first  par- 
allel was  followed  up  energetically  until 
no  loop-hole  was  left,  through  which  Corn- 
wallis might  escape.  No  such  loop-hole 
was  afforded,  and  Cornwallis's  doom  was 
sealed. 

It  was  a  proud  day  for  the  war-worn 
troops  of  America  to  see  so  fine  an  army 
not  only  within  their  grasp,  but,  to  all  in- 
tents and  purposes,  completely  at  their 
disposal, — waiting  only  those  last  formali- 
ties which  give  solemn  dignity  to  the  de- 
crees already  made  by  the  sword, — and 
they  saw,  in  the  coming  event,  the  final 
catastrophe  of  British  rule  in  America, — 
the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  drama, — 
the  establishment  of  a  free  and  independ- 
ent republic.  As  already  remarked,  Corn- 
wallis had  hoped  for  succor  to  the  last,  but 
the  slaughter  of  his  men  became  too  seri- 
ous to  be  any  longer  endured,  and  finally 
the  loud  beat  of  the  chamade  was  heard  in 
the  intervals  of  the  explosions  of  cannon, 
and  the  firing  ceased.  Cornwallis  then 
sent  a  flag  of  truce  requesting  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  for  twenty-four  hours,  to  ar- 
range the  terms  of  capitulation.  To  this 
Washington  would  not  consent,  fearing 
that  the  arrival  of  the  English  fleet  in  the 
meantime  might  alter  the  aspect  of  affairs, 
and  allowed  him  but  two  hours  in  which 
to  transmit  his  proposals.  The  full  sur- 
render took  place  the  next  day,  October  19, 
1781,  the  articles  of  capitulation  being 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


signed  by  Cornwallis  at  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Moore. 

At  about  12  o'clock  of  that  day,  the 
combined  continental  army  was  drawn  up 
in  two  lines  more  than  a  mile  in  length, 
the  Americans  on  the  right  side  of  the 
road,  and  their  French  allies  on  the  left. 
Washington,  mounted  on  a  noble  steed, 
and  attended  by  his  staff,  was  in  front  of 
the  former;  the  Count  de  Rochambeau 
and  his  suite,  of  the  latter.  The  French 
troops,  in  complete  uniform,  and  well 
equipped,  made  a  brilliant  appearance,  and 
had  marched  to  the  ground  with  a  band  of 
music  playing,  which  was  a  novelty  in  the 
American  service.  The  American  troops, 
but  part  in  uniform,  and  all  in  garments 
much  the  worse  for  wear,  yet  had  a  spirited 
soldier-like  air,  and  were  not  the  worse  in 
the  eyes  of  their  countrymen  for  bearing 
the  marks  of  hard  service  and  great  priva- 
tions. The  concourse  of  spectators  drawn 
from  all  the  neighboring  country  to  witness 
a  scene  so  thrilling  and  momentous,  was 
almost  equal  in  number  to  the  military, 
but  silence  and  order  prevailed  unbroken. 

The  enthusiasm  throughout  ^he  country, 
on  the  surrender  of  Cornwallif,  was  un- 
bounded. "  Cornwallis  is  taken,  I "  was 
the  message  which  sped  itself  with  the 
wings  of  the  wind  to  every  city,  tovn  and 
village,  and  was  shouted  by  every  mouth. 
But  the  mortification  of  Cornwallis  vas 
intense,  and  the  British  cabinet,  on  hear- 
ing the  news,  turned  pale  with  despair. 
Lords  Germain,  Walsingham,  and  Stor- 
mount,  proceeded  to  Lord  North's  house, 
and  there,  at  midnight,  announced  to  him 
the  portentous  dispatch.  The  haughty 
premier  was  astounded  and  humbled.  In 
the  words  of  Lord  Germain,  in  answer  to 
the  inquiry  how  Lord  North  received  the 
aews? — "As  he  would  have  received  a  ball 
in  his  breast ;  for  he  opened  his  arms,  ex- 
claiming wildly  as  he  paced  up  and  clown 
the  apartment,  '  Oh  God  !  It  is  all  over — 
it  is  all  over!'"  King  George  III.  was  at 
Kew,  and  the  intelligence  was  forwarded 
to  him  at  that  place.  He  exhibited  no  loss 
of  eelf-control,  it  is  said,  notwithstanding 
the  hopes  which  had  been  centered  in  Corn- 


wallis and  his  army,   to  give  triumph  to 
the  British  arms. 

It  is  well  known  that,  during  the  month 
of  November,  the  accounts  received  by  the 
British  government,  of  Lord  Cornwallis's 
embarrassments,  gave  great  anxiety  to  the 
cabinet.  Lord  George  Germain,  in  partic- 
ular, conscious  that  on  the  prosperous  or 
adverse  result  of  Cornwallis's  movements 
hinged  the  result  of  the  whole  American 
contest,  as  well  as  his  own  political  fate — 
and  probably  the  duration  of  the  ministry 
itself, — expressed  to  his  friends  the  strong- 
est uneasiness  on  the  subject.  The  meet- 
ing of  parliament  stood  fixed  for  the  27th 
of  that  month.  On  the  25th,  the  official 
intelligence  of  the  unconditional  surrender 
of  the  British  forces  of  Yorktown,  arrived 
at  Lord  Germain's  house.  Lord  Walsing- 
ham, who,  previous  to  his  father,  Sir  Wil- 
liam de  Grey's  elevation  to  the  peerage, 
had  been  under-secretary  of  state  in  that 
department,  and  who  was  to  second  the 
address  in  the  house  of  lords,  happened  to 
be  theie  whet,  the  messenger  brought  the 
news.  Without  communicating  it  to  any 
unofficial  person,  Lord  George,  for  the 
purpose  of  dispatch,  immediately  got  with 
him  into  a  hackney-coacb.  and  drove  to 
Lord  Stormount's  residence  in  Portland 
Place.  Having  imparted  the  disastrous 
informat'on  to  him,  they  determii  ed,  after 
a  short  consultation,  to  lay  the  ir>  telligence 
themselves  in  person  before  Lord  North, 
wiih  what  result  has  already  been  stated 
on  the  authority  of  a  writer  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine. 

The  next  picture  is  that  of  a  cabinet 
council  in  terror.  When  the  first  agitation 
had  subsided,  the  four  ministers  discussed 
the  question,  whether  it  might  not  be  ex- 
pedient to  prorogue  the  meeting  of  parlia- 
ment for  a  few  days ;  but  as  scarcely  an 
interval  of  forty-eight  hours  remained  be- 
fore the  appointed  time  of  meeting,  and  as 
many  members  of  both  houses  had  arrived 
in  London,  or  were  on  their  way,  the  prop- 
osition was  abandoned.  It  became,  how- 
ever, indispensable  to  alter,  and  almost 
remodel,  the  king's  speech.  This  was 
done  without  delay,  and  at  the  same  time 


60 


CORNWALL1S'  SURRENDER. 


Lord  George,  as  secretary  for  the  American 
department,  sent  off  a  dispatch  to  the 
king,  then  at  Kew,  acquainting  him  with 
Cormvallis's  fate. 

One  who  was  intimate  in  the  circle  of 
court  actors  and  secrets  at  that  time  says  : 
— I  dined  that  day  at  Lord  George's,  and 
although  the  information  which  had 
reached  London  in  the  course  of  the  morn- 
ing from  France,  as  well  as  from  the  offi- 
cial report,  was  of  a  nature  not  to  admit  of 
long  concealment,  yet  it  had  not  been 
communicated  to  me  or  any  other  individ- 
ual of  the  company  when  I  got  to  Pall 
Mall,  between  five  and  six  o'clock.  Lord 
Walsingham,  who  also  dined  there,  was 
then  the  only  person,  except  Lord  George, 
officially  knowing  to  the  fact.  The  party, 
nine  in  number,  sat  down  to  the  table.  I 
thought  the  master  of  the  house  appeared 
serious,  though  he  manifested  no  discom- 
posure. Before  dinner  was  over,  a  letter 
was  brought  from  the  king,  by  the  messen- 
ger who  had  been  dispatched  to  him  with 
the  startling  intelligence.  Lord  Walsing- 
ham simply  indulged  in  the  observation  : 
"The  king  writes  just  as  he  always  docs, 
except  that  I  perceive  he  has  neglected  to 
mark  the  hour  and  minute  of  his  writing 
with  his  usual  precision."  This  remark, 
though  calculated  to  awaken  some  interest, 
excited  no  comment;  and  while  the  ladies, 
Lord  George's  three  daughters,  remained 
in  the  room,  all  manifestation  of  curiosity 
was  repressed.  But  they  had  no  sooner 
withdrawn,  than  Lord  George  having  com- 
municated the  fact  that  information  had 
just  arrived  from  Paris  of  the  old  Count 
Maurepas,  first  minister  of  the  French 
cabinet,  lying  at  the  point  of  death,  the 
remark  was  made  by  one  of  the  party — 

"  It  would  grieve  me  to  finish  my  career, 
however  far  advanced  in  years,  were  I  first 
minister  of  France,  before  I  had  witnessed 
the  termination  of  this  great  contest  be- 
tween England  and  America." 

"He  has  survived  to  see  that  event,"  at 
once  replied  Lord  George  Germain,  with 
some  agitation. 

The  conversation  was  continued,  until, 
on  the  more  particular  mention  of  the  Vir-  ' 


ginia  campaign,  the  minister  disclosed 
the  full  bearing  of  the  intelligence  he  had 
received,  saying — 

"The  army  has  surrendered,  and  you 
may  peruse  the  particulars  of  the  capitula- 
tion in  that  paper." 

The  paper  was  taken  from  his  pocket, 
and  read  to  the  company.  The  next  ques- 
tion was  one  of  rather  an  obtrusive  kind, 
to  learn  what  the  king  thought  on  the 
subject.  In  reply  to  this,  the  minister's 
remark  did  the  highest  credit  to  his  maj- 
esty's firmness,  fortitude  and  consistency. 
The  minister  even  allowed  the  king's  bil- 
let to  be  read,  and  it  was  as  follows  : — 

'  I  have  received,  with  sentiments  of  the 
deepest  concern,  the  communication  which 
Lord  George  Germain  has  made  to  me,  of 
the  unfortunate  result  of  the  operations  to 
Virginia.  I  particularly  lament  it,  on 
account  of  the  consequences  connected  with 
it  and  the  difficulties  which  it  may  produce 
in  carrying  on  the  public  business,  or  in 
repairing  such  a  misfortune.  But  I  trust 
that  neither  Lord  Germain,  nor  any  other 
member  of  the  cabinet,  will  suppose  that  it 
makes  the  smallest  alteration  in  those 
principles  of  my  conduct,  which  have  di- 
rected me  in  the  past  time,  which  will  al- 
ways continue  to  animate  me  under  every 
event,  in  the  prosecution  of  the  present 
contest.' 

The  cabinet,  strengthened  by  the  royal 
determination,  now  recovered  courage ; 
they  met  parliament  at  the  appointed  time, 
and  fought  their  battle  there  with  unusual 
vigor.  Perhaps  in  all  the  annals  of  sena- 
torial struggle,  there  never  was  a  crisis 
which  more  powerfully  displayed  the 
talents  of  the  Commons.  Burke,  Fox,  and 
Pitt,  were  at  once  seen  pouring  down  the 
whole  fiery  torrent  of  declamation  on  the 
government. 

But  at  all  events,  the  success  of  the 
siege  of  Yorktown,  it  is  generally  under- 
stood, decided  the  revolutionary  war. 
"  The  infant  Hercules,"  said  Dr.  Franklin, 
"has  now  strangled  the  two  serpents,  that 
attacked  him  in  his  cradle."  AH  the  world 
agree  that  no  expedition  was  <:\er  better 
planned  or  better  executed.  For  the 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


61 


"  great  glory  and  advantage  "  of  Cornwal- 
lis's  subjection,  Washington  afterwards 
acknowledged  himself  chiefly  indebted  to 
the  French  alliance.  And  in  the  proceed- 
ings of  congress  upon  the  matter,  it  was 
amongst  other  things:  'Resolved,  that 
congress  cause  to  be  erected  at  Yorktown 
a  marble  column,  adorned  with  emblems  of 
the  alliance  between  the  United  States 
and  France,  and  inscribed  with  a  succinct 
narrative  of  the  siege,  and  capitulation.' 
Special  thanks  were  also  tendered  by  that 
body's  vote,  to  each  commander  engaged 
in  the  siege ;  and  to  Washington  were 
presented  two  stands  of  colors  taken  from 
the  enemy,  and  two  pieces  of  field  ordnance 
to  Counts  Rochambeau  and  de  Grasse. 

Tha  next  day  after  the  surrender  -was 
the  Sabbath,  and  Washington  ordered 
special  divine  service  in  each  of  the  brig- 
ades of  the  American  army.  He  also  by 
public  proclamation  congratulated  the 
allied  armies  on  the  auspicious  victory, 
awarding  high  praise  to  the  officers  and 
troops,  both  French  and  American,  for 
their  conduct  during  the  siege,  and  speci- 
fying by  name  several  of  the  generals  and 
other  officers  who  had  especially  distin- 
guished themselves.  All  those  of  his  army 
who  were  under  arrest  were  pardoned  and 
set  free. 

News  of  this  glorious  victory  sped  like 
lightning  over  the  land.  Washington  dis- 
patched at  once  one  of  his  aids,  Colonel 
Tilghman,  to  congress,  then  sitting  in 
Philadelphia.  The  swift  rider  dashed  on 
a  gallop  into  the  city  at  midnight — the 
clatter  of  his  horse's  hoofs  the  only  sound 
that  broke  the  silence  of  the  deserted 
streets,  as  he  pressed  straight  for  the  house 
of  McKean,  then  president  of  congress. 
Thundering  at  the  door  as  though  he 
would  force  an  entrance,  he  roused  the 
sleeping  president,  saying,  "  Cornwallis  is 
taken !  "  The  watchmen  caught  the  words, 
and  when  they  called  "  One  o'clock,"  they 
added,  "and  Cornwallis  is  taken!"  As 
they  moved  slowly  on  their  nightly  rounds, 
windows  were  flung  open  and  eager  coun- 
tenances were  everywhere  scanning  the 
streets.  A  hum,  like  that  of  au  awaken- 


ing hive,  immediately  pervaded  the  city. 
The  inhabitants  went  pouring  into  the 
streets,  while  shout  after  shout  rose  on  the 
midnight  air.  The  old  bellman  was  roused 
from  his  slumbers,  and  soon  the  iron 
tongue  of  the  bell  at  the  state-house  rang 
out,  as  of  old,  "  Proclaim  liberty  through- 
out all  the  land  to  all  the  inhabitants 
thereof."  The  dawn  was  greeted  with  the 
booming  of  cannon  ;  and  salvos  of  artillery, 
and  shouts  of  joy,  and  tears  of  thanksgiving, 


accompanied  the  glad  news  as  it  traveled 
exultingly  over  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  land.  Every  voice  was  loud  in  its 
praise  of  General  Washington,  and  of  his 
gallant  ally,  the  Count  de  Rochambeau. 

It  is  stated  as  an  interesting  fact  in  the 
history  of  this  great  event  and  the  charac- 
ter of  the  two  chief  commanders,  that,  on 
the  day  after  the  surrender,  Cornwallis 
went  in  person  to  pay  his  respects  to  Gen- 
eral Washington  and  await  his  orders. 
The  captive  chief  was  received  with  all  the 
courtesy  due  to  a  gallant  and  unfortunate 
foe.  The  elegant  manners,  together  with 
the  manly,  frank,  and  soldierly  bearing  of 
Cornwallis,  soon  made  him  a  prime  favor- 
ite at  head-quarters,  and  he  often  formed 
part  of  the  suite  of  the  commander-in- 
chief  in  his  rides  to  inspect  the  leveling  of 
the  works  previous  to  the  retirement  of  the 
combined  American  and  French  armies 
from  before  Yorktown.  At  the  grand  din- 
ner given  at  the  head-quarters  to  the  offi- 
cers of  the  three  armies,  Washington  filled 
his  glass,  and,  after  his  favorite  toast, 
whether  in  peace  or  war,  of  "All  out 


62 


CORNWALLIS'  SURRENDER. 


friends,"  gave  "  The  British  army,"  with 
some  complimentary  remarks  upon  its 
chief,  his  proud  career  in  arms,  and  his 
gallant  defense  of  Yorktown.  When  it 
came  to  Cornwallis's  turn,  he  prefaced  his 
toast  by  saying  that  the  war  was  virtually 
at  an  end,  and  the  contending  parties' 
would  soon  embrace  as  friends ;  there 
might  be  affairs  of  posts,  but  nothing  on 
a  more  enlarged  scale,  as  it  was  scarcely 


to  be  expected  that  the  ministry  would 
send  another  army  to  America.  Then 
turning  to  Washington,  his  lordship  con- 
tinued— 

"  And  when  the  illustrious  part  that 
your  excellency  has  borne  in  this  long  and 
arduous  contest  becomes  matter  of  history, 
fame  will  gather  your  brightest  laurels 
rather  from  the  banks  of  the  Delaware 
than  from  those  of  the  Chesapeake." 


VI. 
ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON.— 1783. 


Affecting  Interviews  and  Parting  Words  between  the  Great  Chieftain  and  His  Comrades-in-Arms.— 
Solemn  Farewell  Audience  with  Congress.—  In  Its  Presence  He  Voluntarily  Divests  Himself  of  His 
Supreme  Authority,  Returns  His  Victorious  Sword,  and  Becomes  a  Private  Citizen.—  History  of  the 
Election  of  a  Military  Leader.—  America's  Destiny  in  His  Hands.—  Appointment  of  George  Wash- 
ington—  The  Army  at  Cambridge,  Mass.—  He  Immediately  Takes  Command.—  Is  Enthusiastically 
Greeted.  —  Leads  Its  Fortunes  Seven  Years.  —  Record  of  His  Generalship.  —  Ends  the  War  in  Tri- 
umph.— Scheme  to  Make  Him  King.—  Indignantly  Rebukes  the  Proposal.—  Last  Review  of  His 
Troops.—  His  Strong  Attachment  for  Them.  —  Intention  to  Leave  Public  Life.—  Congress  Informed  of 
this  Fact.—  Embarkation  from  New  York.—  Homage  Paid  Him  Everywhere  —Arrival  at  Annapo- 
lis.— Proceeds  to  the  Halls  of  Congress.—  Impressive  Ceremonial  There.—  Rare  Event  in  Human 
History. 

••  Having  now  finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I  retire  from  the  theater  of  action,  and,  bidding  an  offertionate  farewell  to  thli  augnit  bodyt 
under  whoie  orders  I  have  BO  long  acted.  I  here  offer  my  commission,  and  UVe  my  leave  of  all  the  employments  of  public  life."-Wism!<tt- 
' 


TOW'S  RETIREMENT  AS  REVOLUTIONARY  LEADER. 


fHAT  momentous  object  for  which  the  War  of  Independence  was  for 
seven  long  years  waged,  under  the  supreme  leadership  of  General 
Washington,  having  been  achieved  by  the  unconditional  acknowledg- 
ment of  that  independence  on  the  part  of  Great  Britain,  a  cessation 
of  hostilities  was  formally  announced  by  congress  to  a  rejoicing 
people.  Washington's  military  course  having  thus  honorably  and 
successfully  terminated,  he,  Cincinnatus-like,  sheathed  his  sword, 
and  surrendered  his  high  commission  to  that  power  which  had  in- 
vested him.  with  its  authority.  It  will,  therefore,  not  only  be  appro- 
priate, hut  of  peculiar  interest,  to  link  together,  in  one  narrative,  the 
circumstances  attending  his  appointment  to  the  responsible  office  of 
commander-in-chief  of  the  revolutionary  army,  and  that  last  great 
act — the  Eeturu  of  his  Commission — in  the  stupendous  drama  of 
which  he  was  the  central  figure. 

To  that  sterling  old  patriot,  John  Adams,  the  credit  of  the  wisdom 
of  selecting  Washington  as  military  chieftain  principally  belongs. 
It  was  a  question,  on  the  decision  of  which  hung  the  fate  of  the  rev- 
olutionary cause ;  and  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  among  the  people 
at  large  as  well  as  in  the  more  immediate  circles  of  congress,  by 
whom  the  great  question  was  finally  to  be  determined,  the  discussion 
as  to  who  should  be  chosen  as  the  nation's  leader  in  the  councils  of 
WASHINGTON'S  swoBD.  war  and  on  the  battle-field,  was  universal.  Mr.  Adams  states  that 
in  regard  to  this  election,  there  was  in  congress  a  southern  party  against  a  north- 
ern, and  a  jealousy  against  a  New  England  army  under  the  command  of  a 


64 


ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


New  England  general ;  but  whether  this 
jealousy  was  sincere,  or  whether  it  was 
mere  pride  and  ambition — the  ambition  of 
furnishing  a  southern  general  to  command 
the  northern  army, —  was  a  matter  of 
doubt.  The  intention,  however,  was  very 
visible  that  Colonel  Washington  was  their 
object. 

The  military  ability  which  had  been  dis- 
played, on  different  occasions,  by  Colonel 
Washington,  were  well  understood,  and, 
from  the  conspicuous  positions  in  which 
he  had  thus  been  placed,  and  the  saga- 
cious judgment  which  was  known  to  have 
characterized  him  in  important  emergen- 
cies, he  had,  for  a  long  time  past,  enjoyed 
a  fine  reputation  throughout  the  colonies, 
as  a  gallant  and  successful  officer.  He  was 
only  in  a  moderate  sense  a  partisan,  in 
the  difficulties  and  discussions  which  had 
arisen  between  his  own  and  the  mother 
country ;  but,  from  the  very  first,  he  ex- 
hibited sufficient  repugnance  to  any  atti- 
tude of  vassalage,  on  the  part  of  his  coun- 
trymen, to  show  that  he  would  be  no  will- 
ing subject  of  coercion,  should  the  preten- 
sions of  the  British  be  attempted  to  be  car- 
ried out  by  threats,  or  by  recourse  to  arms. 

When  congress  had  assembled,  Mr. 
John  Adams  arose  in  his  place,  and  in  as 
short  a  speech  as  the  subject  would  admit 
represented  the  state  of  the  colonies,  the 
uncertainty  in  the  minds  of  the  people, 
their  great  expectation  and  anxiety,  the 
distresses  of  the  army,  the  danger  of  its 
dissolution,  the  difficulty  of  collecting  an- 
other ;  and  the  probability  that  the  Brit- 
ish army  would  take  advantage  of  these 
delays,  march  out  of  Boston,  and  spread 
desolation  as  far  as  they  could  go.  He 
concluded  with  a  motion,  in  form,  that 
congress  would  adopt  the  army  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  appoint  a  general ;  that  though 
this  was  not  the  proper  time  to  nominate  a 
general,  yet  as  there  existed  reasons  for 
believing  this  to  be  the  greatest  difficulty, 
he  had  no  hesitation  to  declare  that  there 
was  but  one  gentleman  in  his  mind  for 
that  important  office,  and  that  was  a  gen- 
tleman from  Virginia— one  of  their  own 
number,  and  well  known  to  them  all, — a 


gentleman  whose  skill  and  experience  as  an 
officer,  whose  independent  fortune,  great 
talents,  and  excellent  general  character, 
would  command  the  approbation  of  all 
America,  and  unite  the  cordial  exertions 
of  all  the  colonies  better  than  any  o'her 
person  in  the  Union. 

Mr.  Washington,  who  happened  to  sit 
near  the  door,  as  soon  as  he  heard  this  al- 
lusion to  himself,  with  his  usual  modesty, 
darted  into  the  library  room. 

The  subject  came  under  debate,  and 
several  gentlemen  declared  themselves 
against  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Washing- 
ton, not  on  account  of  any  personal  objec- 
tion against  him,  but  because  the  army 
were  all  from  New  England,  had  a  general 
of  their  own,  appeared  to  be  satisfied  with 
him,  and  had  proved  themselves  able  to 
imprison  the  British  army  in  Boston. 
Mr.  Pendleton,  of  Virginia,  and  Mr. 
Sherman,  of  Connecticut,  were  very  ex- 
plicit in  declaring  this  opinion.  Mr. 
Gushing  and  others  more  faintly  expressed 
their  opposition,  and  their  fears  of  discon- 
tent in  the  army  and  in  New  England. 
Mr.  Paine  expressed  a  great  opinion  of 
General  Ward,  and  a  strong  friendship 
for  him,  having  been  his  classmate  at  col- 
lege, or,  at  least,  his  contemporary ;  but 
gave  no  opinion  on  the  question.  The 
subject  was  postponed  to  a  future  day.  In 
the  meantime,  pains  were  taken  out  of 
doors  to  obtain  a  unanimity,  and  the  voices 
were  generally  so  clearly  in  favor  of  Wash- 
ington, that  the  dissenting  members  were 
persuaded  «to  withdraw  their  opposition, 
and  Mr.  Washington  was  nominated  by 
Mr.  Thomas  Johnson,  of  Maryland,  unan- 
imously elected,  and  the  army  adopted. 

His  official  commission  was  at  once 
drawn  up  and  presented  to  him  ;  a  copy  of 
which  most  interesting  document  is  given 
below : — 

"  In  Congress.  We  the  delegates  of  the 
United  Colonies  of  New  Hampshire,  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay,  Rhode  Island,  Connecticut, 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania, 
New  Castle,  Kent,  and  Sussex  on  Dela- 
ware, Maryland,  Virginia,  North  Carolina, 
and  South  Carolina, 


ADIEU  TO  THE  AKMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


65 


To  Qdorge   Washington,  Esquire  : 

We,  reposing  special  trust  and  confi- 
dence in  your  patriotism,  conduct,  and 
fidelity,  do  by  these  presents  constitute  and 
appoint  you  to  be  GENERAL  and  COM- 
MANDER-IN-CHIEF of  the  army  of  the 
United  Colonies,  and  of  all  the  forces 
raised  or  to  be  raised  by  them,  and  of  all 
others  who  shall  voluntarily  offer  their 
services  and  join  the  said  army  for  the  de- 
fense of  American  liberty,  and  for  repelling 
every  hostile  invasion  thereof.  And  you 
are  hereby  invested  with  full  power  and 
authority  to  act  as  you  shall  think  for  the 
good  and  welfare  of  the  service. 

And  we  do  hereby  strictly  charge  and 
require  all  officers  and  soldiers  under  your 
command  to  be  obedient  to  your  orders, 
and  diligent  in  the  exercise  of  their  several 
duties. 

And  we  do  also  enjoin  and  require  you 
to  be  careful  in  executing  the  great  trust 
reposed  in  you,  by  causing  strict  discipline 
and  order  to  be  observed  in  the  army,  and 
that  the  soldiers  are  duly  exercised  and 
provided  with  all  convenient  necessaries. 

And  you  are  to  regulate  your  conduct  in 
every  respect  by  the  rules  and  discipline 
of  war,  (as  herewith  given  you,)  arid  punc- 
tually to  observe  and  follow  such  direc- 
tions, from  time  to  time,  as  you  shall  re- 
ceive from  this  or  a  future  Congress  of  the 
said  United  Colonies,  or  a  Committee  of 
Congress  for  that  purpose  appointed. 

This  commission  to  continue  in  force  till 
revoked  by  this  or  a  future  Congress. 
By  order  of  Congress. 

JOHN  HANCOCK,  President. 
Dated,  Philadelphia,  June  19,  1775. 
Attest,  CHARLES  THOMSON,  Secretary." 

On  the  second  day  of  July,  1775,  Wash- 
ington arrived  in  Cambridge,  Massachu- 
setts, accompanied  by  Major-General  Lee, 
his  next  in  command,  and  other  officers, 
establishing  his  head-quarters  at  the  man- 
sion subsequently  occupied  by  Longfellow, 
the  elegant  scholar  and  poet.  At  about 
nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  next 
day,  Washington,  attended  by  a  suitable 
escort,  proceeded  from  his  head-quarters  to 
a  great  elm  tree — one  of  the  majestic  na- 


tives of  the  forest, — near  Harvard  College, 
and  where  the  continental  forces  were 
drawn  up  in  military  order.  Under  the 
shadow  of  that  wide-spreading  tree,  Wash- 
ington, moving  forward  a  few  paces,  drew 
his  sword  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
American  army,  declaring  that  it  should 


THE  WASHINGTON   ELM,    CAMBRIDGE,   MASS. 

never  be  sheathed  until  the  liberties  of  hia 
country  were  established.  The  record  of 
his  services  is  the  history  of  the  whole 
war.  Joining  the  army  in  Juty,  1775,  he 
compelled  the  British  to  evacuate  Boston 
in  March,  1776;  he  then  followed  the 
British  to  New  York,  fighting  the  battle 
of  Long  Island  on  the  twenty-seventh  of 
August,  and  that  of  White  Plains  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  October.  On  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  December  he  made  the  memorable 
passage  of  the  Delaware,  and  soon  gained 
the  victories  of  Trenton  and  Princeton. 
The  battle  of  Brandywine  was  fought  on 
the  eleventh  of  September,  1777,  and  that 
of  Germantown,  October  fourth.  Febru- 
ary twenty-eighth,  1778,  witnessed  his 
"  glorious  and  happy  day,"  as  he  himself 
termed  it,  at  Monmouth.  In  1779  and 
1780  he  conducted  the  military  operations 
in  the  vicinity  of  New  York  ;  after  which, 
in  1781,  he  marched  to  Virginia  to  watch 
the  movements  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  whom 
he  forced  to  surrender  at  Yorktown,  in 
October,  by  which  great  achievement  he 
put  an  end  to  the  active  operations  of  the 
revolutionary  struggle,  and  secured  peace 
and  independence  to  his  country. 

With    the    return    of    peace,    and   the 
achievement   of   independent   nationality, 


CO 


ADIEU  TO  THE  AKMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


tlie  wisdom  and  patriotism  of  Washington 
were  to  be  severely  tested,  and  in  a  most 
unexpected  manner,  in  connection  with  the 
form  of  government  to  be  adopted  by  the 
United  States.  The  English  government 
was  regarded  by  many  of  the  strongest 
American  minds  as,  in  most  respects,  a 
model  one ;  and  by  many  persons  the  En- 
glish form  of  a  constitutional  monarchy 
was  decided,  especially  by  some  of  the 
army  officers,  to  be  the  most  promising, 
and  thus  far  the  most  successful,  experi- 
ment in  government,  and  the  oi<«  most 


this  scheme  called  a  secret  meeting,  and 
finally  determined  on  the  title  of  KING, 
and  Washington  was  informed  of  the  fact. 
He  spurned  the  gilded  bribe  of  a  king's 
crown,  and  promptly  and  sternly  rebuked 
the  abettors  of  the  scheme  in  the  following 
'letter  addressed  to  their  leader : 

"Sir, — With  a  mixture  of  great  sur- 
prise and  astonishment,  I  have  read  with 
attention  the  sentiments  you  have  sub- 
mitted to  my  perusal.  Be  assured,  sir, 
no  occurrence  in  the  course  of  this  war  has 
given  me  more  painful  sensations  than 


likely  to  be  adopted  by  America  upon  due 
deliberation.  Universal  dissatisfaction  was 
felt  with  the  proceedings  and  conduct  of 
congress  as  a  governing  power,  and  there- 
fore some  agency  superior  to  that,  and  of 
controlling  prerogative,  was  proposed, — a 
head,  like  the  English  sovereign,  with 
proper  safeguards  against  usurpation. 
Circumstances,  of  course,  indicated  Wash- 
ington as  that  head,  and  the  next  ques- 
tion naturally  arose — under  what  official 
title  should  such  a  head  rule  ?  The  c  fficers 
around  Xewburgh  who  were  associated  in 


your  information  of  there  being  such  ideas 
existing  in  the  army  as  you  have  expressed, 
and  which  I  must  view  with  abhorrence 
and  reprehend  with  severity.  For  the 
present,  the  communication  of  them  will 
rest  in  my  own  bosom,  unless  some  further 
agitation  of  the  matter  shall  make  a  dis- 
closure necessary.  I  am  much  at  a  loss  to 
conceive  what  part  of  my  conduct  could 
have  given  encouragement  to  an  address 
which  to  me  seems  big  with  the  greatest 
mischiefs  that  can  befall  my  country.  If 
I  am  not  deceived  in  the  knowledge  of 


ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


67 


myself,  yon  could  not  have  found  a  person 
to  whom  your  schemes  are  more  disagree- 
able. At  the  same  time,  in  justice  to  my 
own  feelings,  I  must  add,  that  no  man 
possesses  a  more  serious  wish  to  see  ample 
justice  done  to  the  army  than  I  do ;  and, 
as  far  as  my  power  and  influence,  in  a  con- 
stitutional way,  extend,  they  shall  be  em- 
ployed to  the  utmost  of  my  abilities  to 
effect  it,  should  there  be  any  occasion. 
Let  me  conjure  you,  then,  if  you  have  any 
regard  for  your  country,  concern  for  your- 
self or  posterity,  or  respect  for  me,  to 
banish  these  thoughts  from  your  mind,  and 
never  communicate,  as  from  yourself  or 
any  one  else,  a  sentiment  of  the  like  na- 
ture." 

In  perfect  keeping  with  the  spirit  in 
which  Washington  treated  the  dazzling 
offer  thus  so  unexpectedly  set  before  him, 
was  the  simplicity  of  his  conduct  in  bid- 
ding adieu  to  his  comrades-in-arms,  and 
then  presenting  himself  before  congress, 
there  to  deliver  up  his  sword,  and  volunta- 
rily divest  himself  of  the  supreme  com- 
mand; — in  the  serene  and  thoughtful 
phraseology  of  his  own  words,  "  to  address 
himself  once  more,  and  that  for  the  last 
time,  to  the  armies  of  the  United  States, 
however  widely  dispersed  the  individuals 
who  compose  them  may  be,  and  to  bid  them 
an  affectionate  and  a  long  farewell." 

For  the  last  time,  he  assembled  them  at 
Newburgh,  when  he  rode  out  on  the  field, 
and  gave  them  one  of  those  paternal  ad- 
dresses which  so  eminently  characterized 
his  relationship  with  his  army.  To  the 
tune  of  "  Roslin  Castle," —  the  soldier's 
dirge, — his  brave  comrades  passed  slowly 
by  their  great  leader,  and  filed  away  to  their 
respective  homes.  It  was  a  thrilling  scene. 
There  were  gray-headed  soldiers,  who  had 
grown  old  by  hardships  and  exposures,  and 
too  old  to  begin  life  anew  ;  tears  coursed 
freely  the  furrowed  cheeks  of  these  veter- 
ans. Among  the  thousands  passing  in 
review  before  him  were  those,  also,  who 
had  done  valorous  service  when  the  destiny 
of  the  country  hung  tremblingly  in  the 
balance.  As  Washington  looked  upon 
them  for  the  last  time,  he  said,  "  I  am 


growing  old  in  my  country's  service,  and 
losing  my  sight ;  but  I  never  doubted  its 
justice  or  gratitude."  Even  on  the  rudest 
and  roughest  of  the  soldiery,  the  effect  of 
his  parting  language  was  irresistible. 

On  the  fourth  of  December,  1783,  by 
Washington's  request,  his  officers,  in  full 
uniform,  assembled  in  Fraunces's  tavern, 
New  York,  to  take  a  final  leave  of  their 
commander-in-chief.  On  entering  the 
room,  and  finding  himself  surrounded  by 
his  old  companions-in-arms,  who  had 
shared  with  him  so  many  scenes  of  hard- 
ship, difficulty,  and  danger,  his  agitated 
feelings  overcame  his  usual  self-command. 
Every  man  arose  with  eyes  turned  towards 
him.  Filling  a  glass  of  wine,  and  lifting  it 
to  his  lips,  he  rested  his  benignant  but  sad- 
dened countenance  upon  them,  and  said, — 

"With  a  heart  full  of  love  and  grati- 
tude, I  now  take  leave  of  you.  I  most  de- 
voutly wish  that  your  latter  days  may  be 
as  prosperous  as  your  former  ones  have 
been  honorable  and  glorious."  Having 
drunk,  he  added,  "  I  cannot  come  to  each 
of  you  to  take  my  leave,  but  shall  be 
obliged  to  you,  if  each  of  you  will  come 
and  take  me  by  the  hand."  A  profound 
silence  followed,  as  each  officer  gazed  on 
the  countenance  of  their  leader,  while  the 
eyes  of  all  were  wet  with  tears.  He  then 
expressed  again  his  desire  that  each  of 
them  should  come  and  take  him  by  the 
hand.  The  first,  being  nearest  to  him, 
was  General  Knox,  who  grasped  his  hand 
in  silence,  and  both  embraced  each  other 
without  uttering  a  word.  One  after  an- 
other followed,  receiving  and  returning  the 
affectionate  adieu  of  their  commander, 
after  which  he  left  the  room  in  silence, 
followed  by  his  officers  in  procession,  to 
embark  in  the  barge  that  was  to  convey 
him  to  Paulus's  Hook,  now  Jersey  City. 
As  he  was  passing  through  the  light  in- 
fantry drawn  up  on  either  side  to  receive 
him,  an  old  soldier,  who  was  by  his  side 
on  the  terrible  night  of  his  march  to 
Trenton,  stepped  out  from  the  ranks,  and 
reaching  out  his  arms,  exclaimed,  "Fare- 
well, my  dear  general,  farewell!  "  Wash- 
ington seized  his  hand  most  heartily,  when 


68 


ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


the  soldiers  forgot  all  discipline,  rushed 
towards  their  chief,  and  bathed  him  with 
their  tears.  The  scene  was  like  that  of  a 
good  patriarch  taking  leave  of  his  children, 
and  going  on  a  long  journey,  from  whence 
he  might  return  no  more. 

Having  entered  the  barge,  he  turned  to 
the  weeping  company  upon  the  wharf,  and 
waving  his  hat,  bade  them  a  silent  adieu. 
They  stood  with  heads  uncovered,  until 
the  barge  was  hidden  from  their  view, 
when,  in  silent  and  solemn  procession,  they 
returned  to  the  place  where  they  had  as- 
sembled. Congress  was  at  this  time  in 
session  at  Annapolis,  Maryland,  to  which 
place  Washington  now  proceeded,  greeted 
along  his  whole  route  with  enthusiastic 
homage,  for  the  purpose  of  formally  resign- 
ing his  commission.  He  arrived  on  the 
nineteenth  of  December,  1783,  and  the 
next  day  he  informed  congress  of  the  pur- 
pose for  which  he  had  come,  and  requested 
to  know  whether  it  would  be  their  pleas- 
ure that  he  should  offer  his  resignation  in 
writing,  or  at  an  audience.  A  committee 
was  appointed  by  congress,  and  it  was  de- 
cided that  on  Tuesday,  December  twenty- 
third,  the  ceremonial  should  take  place  as 
follows : — 

The  president  and  members  are  to  be 
seated  and  covered,  and  the  secretary  to 
be  standing  by  the  side  of  the  president ; 
the  arrival  of  the  general  to  be  announced 
by  the  messenger  to  the  secretary,  who  is 
thereupon  to  introduce  the  general,  at- 
tended by  his  aids,  into  the  hall  of  con- 
gress ;  the  general,  being  conducted  to  a 
chair  by  the  secretary,  is  to  be  seated,  with 
an  aid  on  each  side  standing,  and  the 
secretary  is  to  resume  his  place.  After  a 
proper  time  for  the  arrangement  of  spec- 
tators, silence  is  to  be  ordered  by  the  sec- 
retar}',  if  necessary,  and  the  president  ii  to 
address  the  general  in  the  following 
words  :  "  Sir, — The  United  States  in  con- 
gress assembled  are  prepared  to  receive  your 
communications."  Whereupon  the  gen- 
eral is  to  arise  and  address  congress  ;  after 
which  he  is  to  deliver  his  commission  and 
a  copy  of  his  address  to"  the  president. 
The  general  having  resumed  his  place,  the 


president  is  to  deliver  the  answer  of  con- 
gress, which  the  general  is  to  receive 
standing;  the  president  having  finished, 
the  secretary  is  to  deliver  the  general  a 
copy  of  the  answer,  and  the  general  is  then 
to  take  his  leave.  When  the  general  rises 
to  make  his  address,  and  also  when  he 
retires,  he  is  to  bow  to  congress,  which 
they  are  to  return  by  uncovering  without 
bowing. 

When  the  hour  arrived,  the  president, 
General  Mifflin,  informed  him  that  that 
body  was  prepared  to  receive  his  commu- 
nications. With  a  native  dignity,  height- 
ened by  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion,  the 
general  rose.  In  a  brief  and  appropriate 
speech  he  offered  his  congratulations  on 
the  termination  of  the  war,  and  having 
alluded  to  his  object  in  appearing  thus  in 
that  presence, — that  he  might  resign  into 
the  hands  of  congress  the  trust  committed 
to  him,  and  claim  the  indulgence  of  retir- 
ing from  the  public  service, — he  concluded 
with  those  affecting  words,  which  drew 
tears  from  the  eyes  of  all  in  that  vast  as- 
sembly : 

"  I  consider  it  an  indispensable  duty  to 
close  this  last  act  of  my  official  life,  by 
commending  the  interests  of  our  dearest 
country  to  the  protection  of  Almighty 
God,  and  those  who  have  the  superintend- 
ence of  them,  to  his  holy  keeping.  Having 
now  finished  the  work  assigned  me,  I 
retire  from  the  theater  of  action,  and, 
bidding  an  affectionate  farewell  to  this 
august  body,  under  whose  orders  I  have  so 
long  acted,  I  here  offer  my  commission, 
and  take  my  leave  of  all  the  employments 
of  public  life." 

After  advancing  to  the  chair,  and  deliv- 
ering his  commission  to  the  president,  he 
returned  to  his  place,  and  remained  stand- 
ing, while  General  Mifflin  replied,  review- 
ing the  great  career  thus  brought  to  a 
close,  and  saying,  in  conclusion  : 

"  The  glory  of  your  virtues  will  not  ter- 
minate with  your  military  command ;  it 
will  continue  to  animate  the  remotest  ages. 
We  join  with  you  in  commending  the  in- 
terests of  our  country  to  Almighty  God, 
beseeching  Him  to  dispose  the  hearts  and 


ADIEU  TO  THE  ARMY  BY  WASHINGTON. 


69 


minds  of  its  citizens  to  improve  the  op- 
portunity afforded  them  of  becoming 
a  happy  and  respectable  nation.  And 
for  you,  we  address  to  Him  our  warm- 
est prayers,  that  a  life  so  beloved  may 


be  fostered  with  all  His  care,  that  your 
days  may  be  as  happy  as  they  have  been 
illustrious,  and  that  He  will  finally  give 
you  that  reward  which  this  world  cannot 
bestow." 


i 

VII. 

APPOINTMENT    OF   THE  FIRST   MINISTER  PLENIPOTEN- 
TIARY,  FROM   THE   NEW  REPUBLIC   TO  THE 

ENGLISH  COURT.— 1785. 


John  Adams,  America's  Sturdiest  Patriot,  and  the  Foremost  Enemy  of  British  Tyranny,  Fills  this 
High  Office. — Interview  between  Him  and  King  George,  His  Late  Sovereign. — Their  Addresses, 
Temper,  Personal  Bearing,  and  Humorous  Conversation. — The  Two  Men  Rightly  Matched  Against 
Each  Other. — Old  Animosities  Unhealed  — Mutual  Charges  of  False  Dealing. — Settlement  Demanded 
by  the  United  States. — What  Adams's  Mission  Involved. — Dismemberment  of  the  British  Realm. — 
Loss  of  the  Fairest  Possession. — Bitter  Pill  for  the  King. — His  Obstinacy  Forced  to  Yield. — Humilia- 
tion of  the  Proud  Monarch. — All  Europe  Watches  the  Event — Mr.  Adams  Presented  at  Court — Pa- 
triot and  King  Face  to  Face. — Official  Address  by  the  Minister. — Reply  of  King  George. — His  Visi- 
ible  Agitation. — Adams's  Presence  of  Mind. — Pays  His  Homage  to  the  Queen  — Her  Majesty's  Re- 
sponse— Civilities  by  the  Royal  Family. — Results  of  this  Embassy. — Pitiable  Position  of  George  the 
Third.— Fatal  Error  of  Great  Britain. 


MI  murt  BYOW  to  your  majesty,  I  haye  no  attachment  but  to  my  own  country."— JOHW  ADAMS  TO  KINO  GEOBGB. 
"  An  honeat  man  will  have  no  other."— THS  Ki.vo's  lysTAirr  RBPLT. 


O  deep-seated  and  festering  were 
the  old  animosities  between  Amer- 
=  ica  and  the  mother  country,  that, 
scarcely  had  the  war  of  the  revo- 
-  lution  terminated,  when  the  two 
nations  reciprocally  charged  each 
other  with  violating  the  treaty  of 
peace.  The  United  States  were 
accused  of  having  infringed  those 
articles  which  contained  agree- 
ments respecting  the  payment  of 
debts,  the  confiscation  of  property, 
and  prosecution  of  individuals  for  the  part  taken  by  them  during  the  war.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  English  were  charged  with  violating  that  article  which  stipulated 
against  the  destruction  or  carrying  away  of  any  description  of  American  property; 
the  king  was  also  complained  of,  for  still  retaining  possession  of  the  posts  on  the 
American  side  of  the  great  lakes,  thus  influencing  the  Indian  tribes  to  hostility; 
and,  above  all  other  sources  and  causes  of  complaint,  in  the  conduct  of  Great  Britain, 
was  her  rigorous  and  restrictive  commercial  system. 

These  growing  misunderstandings  between  the  two  countries,  discussed  with  such 
angry  vehemence  on  both  sides,  threatened  such  serious  consequences  should  their  adjust- 
ment be  much  longer  delayed,  that  congress  determined  upon  the  important  step  of 


AMITV   BETWEEN    ENGLAND   AND   AMERICA. 


FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


71 


appointing,  after  the  mcinner  of  independ- 
ent nations,  a  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to 
the  court  of  Great  Britain! 

In  February,  1785,  John  Adams  was 
duly  accredited  ambassador,  to  represent 
the  United  States  at  that  court. 

That  George  the  Third  was  as  obstinate 
a  man  as  ever  ruled  a  kingdom,  no  histo- 
rian has  ever  questioned.  Having  struck 
at  the  rights  and  liberties  of  America,  in 
order  to  add  to  the  riches  of  his  coffers, 
nothing  could  turn  him  from  his  determin- 


ation to  rule,  or  to  ruin  and  destroy.  To 
the  suggestion  that  the  king's  rule  over 
the  colonies  might  be  slightly  softened  or 
modified,  Lord  North  despairingly  replied : 
"It  is  to  no  purpose  the  making  objec- 
tions, for  the  king  will  have  it  so."  But 
in  no  more  forcible  phrase  could  the  king's 
arbitrary  temper  concerning  his  colonies 
be  shown,  that  in  that  which  fell  from  his 
own  lips,  in  the  presence  of  the  new  en- 
voy, namely,  "  /  was  the  last  man  in  the 
kingdom,  sir,  to  consent  to  the  independ- 
ence of  America." 

Of  all  the  opponents  of  British  misrule, 
in  the  western  world,  John  Adams  was 
the  earliest,  ablest,  most  intrepid  and  un- 
tiring. It  was  John  Adams,  who,  in 


1775,  in  the  memorable  continental  con- 
gress, at  Philadelphia,  suggested  George 
Washington  as  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army  that  was  to  wage  war  against  Great 
Britain — and,  even  before  this  crowning 
act,  had  sent  across  the  Atlantic,  ringing 
into  the  ears  of  the  haughty  monarch,  the 
epithets  tyrant  and  usurper. 

The  kingly  ceremony  of  acknowledging 
the  colonies  independent  took  place,  in  con- 
formity with  previous  arrangements,  on 
the  fifth  of  December,  1782,  in  the  house 
of  lords.  The  scene  was  one  which 
drew  together  an  immense  and  won- 
dering crowd  of  spectators,  conspicu- 
ous among  whom  was  the  celebrated 
admiral  Lord  Howe,  who  had  just  re- 
turned from  a  successful  relief  of 
Gibraltar,  and  who  had  now  elbowed 
himself  exactly  in  front  of  the  throne, 
to  listen,  sadly,  to  his  country's  hu- 
miliation. The  ladies  of  the  nobility 
occupied  the  lords'  seats  on  the  wool- 
sacks, so  called,  as  an  emblem  of  the 
power  and  wealth  of  old  England, 
because  it  had  been  mainly  derived 
from  wool.  The  lords  were  standing 
here  and  there  promiscuously.  It 
was  a  dark  and  foggy  day,  and  the 
windows  being  elevated  and  con- 
structed in  the  antiquated  style,  with 
leaden  bars  to  contain  the  diamond- 
cut  panes  of  glass,  augmented  the 
gloom.  The  walls  were  also  hung 
with  dark  tapestry,  representing  the  de- 
feat of  the  great  Spanish  armada.  The 
celebrated  American  painters,  West  and 
Copley,  were  in  the  throng,  with  some 
American  ladies,  also  a  number  of  dejected- 
looking  American  royalists.  After  a 
tedious  suspense  of  nearly  two  hours,  the 
approach  of  the  king  was  announced  by  a 
tremendous  roar  of  artillery.  He  entered 
by  a  small  door  on  the  left  of  the  throne, 
and  immediately  seated  himself  in  the  chair 
of  state,  in  a  graceful  attitude,  with  his 
right  foot  resting  on  a  stool.  He  was 
clothed  in  the  magnificent  robes  of  British 
majesty.  Evidently  agitated,  he  drew 
slowly  from  his  pocket  a  scroll  containing 
his  humbling  speech.  The  commons  were 


72 


FIEST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


summoned,  and,  after  the  bustle  of  their 
entrance  had  subsided,  the  thrilling  mo- 
ment arrived,  when  the  speech  was  to  be 
read.  After  some  general  remarks,  usual 
on  public  occasions,  he  said : 

"  I  lost  no  time  in  giving  the  necessary 
orders  to  prohibit  the  further  prosecution 
of  offensive  war  upon  the  continent  of 
North  America.  Adopting,  as  my  inclin- 
ation will  always  lead  me  to  do,  with  de- 
cision and  effect,  whatever  I  collect  to  be 
the  sense  of  my  parliament  and  my  people, 
I  have  pointed  all  my  views  and  measures, 
in  Europe,  as  in  North  America,  to  an 
entire  and  cordial  reconciliation  with  the 
colonies.  Finding  it  indispensable  to  the 
attainment  of  this  object,  I  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  go  to  the  full  length  of  the  power 
vested  in  me,  and  therefore  I  now  declare 
them  " — here  he  paused,  in  evident  agita- 
tion, either  embarrassed  in  reading  his 
speech,  by  the  darkness  of  the  room,  or 
affected  by  a  very  natural  emotion,  but, 
recovering  himself  in  a  moment  by  a 
strong  convulsive  movement,  he  added — 
"free  and  independent  states.  In  thus 
admitting  their  separation  from  the  crown 
of  this  kingdom,  I  have  sacrificed  every 
consideration  of  my  own,  to  the  wishes  and 
opinions  of  my  people.  I  make  it  my 
humble  and  ardent  prayer  to  Almighty 
God,  that  Great  Britain  may  not  feel  the 
evils  which  might  result  from  so  great  a 
dismemberment  of  the  empire,  and  that 
America  may  be  free  from  the  calamities 
which  have  formerly  proved,  in  the  mother 
country,  how  essential  monarchy  is  to  the 
enjoyment  of  constitutional  liberty.  Re- 
ligion, language,  interests,  and  affection 
may,  and  I  hope  will,  yet  prove  a  bond  of 
permanent  union  between  the  two  coun- 
tries." 

It  was  universally  remarked  of  King 
George,  that,  though  celebrated  for  read- 
ing his  speeches  in  a  distinct,  composed, 
and  impressive  manner,  he  was  on  this 
occasion  painfully  lacking  in  his  usual 
self-possession ;  he  hesitated,  choked,  and 
executed  the  high  but  humbling  duties  of 
the  occasion,  in  a  manner  which  showed 
that  he  was  deeply  mortified. 


Mr.  Adams  was  at  Paris  when  he  re- 
ceived information  of  his  appointment,  in 
1785,  to  confront  his  late  king  and  royal 
master.  In  an  account  given  by  Mr. 
Adams  himself,  of  his  movements  at  this 
time,  he  says :  At  Versailles,  the  Count 
de  Vergennes  said  he  had  many  felicita- 
tions to  give  me  upon  my  appointment  to 
England.  I  answered  that  I  did  not 
know  but  it  merited  compassion  more  than 
felicitation.  "  Ay,  why  ?  "  "  Because,  as 
you  know,  it  is  a  species  of  degradation,  in 
the  eyes  of  Europe,  after  having  been  ac- 
credited to  the  king  of  France,  to  be  sent 
to  any  other  court." 

"But  permit  me  to  say,"  replies  the 
count,  "it  is  a  great  thing  to  be  the  first 
ambassador  from  your  country  to  the 
country  you  sprang  from.  It  is  a  mark." 

One  of  the  foreign  ambassadors  said  to 
me — 

"  You  have  been  often  in  England." 

"  Never,  but  once  in  November  and  De- 
cember, 1783." 

"  You  have  relations  in  England,  no 
doubt." 

"  None  at  all." 

"  None,  how  can  that  be  ?  you  are  of 
English  extraction." 

"Neither  my  father  or  mother,  grand- 
father or  grandmother,  great  grandfather 
or  great  grandmother,  nor  any  other  rela- 
tion that  I  know  of,  or  care  a  farthing  for, 
has  been  in  England  these  one  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ;  so  that  you  see  I  have  not 
one  drop  of  blood  in  my  veins  but  what  is 
American." 

"  Ay,  we  have  seen  proof  enough  of 
that." 

In  the  month  of  May,  Mr.  Adams  trans- 
ferred himself  and  family  to  the  other  side 
of  the  channel,  prepared  to  undertake  the 
new  duties  to  which  he  had  been  ap- 
pointed. The  first  thing  to  be  done  was 
to  go  through  the  ceremony  of  presenta- 
tion to  the  sovereign  ;  to  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  man  whom  he  had  for  the  first 
forty  years  of  his  life  habitually  regarded 
as  his  master,  and  who  never  ceased  to 
regard  him,  and  the  rest  of  his  country- 
men, as  no  better  than  successful  rebels 


FIEST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


against  his  legitimate  authority.  In  his 
dispatch  to  Mr.  Jay,  then  American  secre- 
tary of  foreign  affairs,  Mr.  Adams  gave 
the  following  very  interesting  account  of 
this  meeting : — 

At  one  o'clock  on  Wednesday,  the  first 
of  June,  1785,  the  master  of  ceremonies 
called  at  my  house,  and  went  with  me  to  the 
secretary  of  state's  office,  in  Cleveland  Row, 
where  the  Marquis  of  Carmarthen  received 
and  introduced  me  to  Mr.  Frazier,  his 
under  secretary,  who  had  been,  as  his 


attended  by  the  master  of  ceremonies,  the 
room  was  very  full  of  ministers  of  state, 
bishops,  and  all  other  sorts  of  courtiers,  aa 
well  as  the  next  room,  which  is  the  king's 
bed-chamber.  You  may  well  suppose  I 
was  the  focus  of  all  eyes.  I  was  relieved, 
however,  from  the  embarrassment  of  it,  by 
the  Swedish  and  Dutch  ministers,  who 
came  to  me  and  entertained  me  with  a  very 
agreeable  conversation  during  the  whole 
time.  Some  other  gentlemen,  whom  I 
had  seen  before,  came  to  make  their  com- 


FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND.      RECKPTION  OF  JOHN  ADAMS. 


lordship  said,  uninterruptedly  in  that  office, 
through  all  the  changes  in  administration, 
for  thirty  years.  After  a  short  conversa- 
tion, Lord  Carmarthen  invited  me  to  go 
with  him  in  his  coach  to  court.  When  we 
arrived  in  the  ante-chamber,  the  master  of 
ceremonies  introduced  him,  and  attended 
me  while  the  secretary  of  state  went  to 
take  the  commands  of  the  king.  While  I 
stood  in  this  place,  where  it  seems  all  min- 
isters stand  upon  such  occasions,  always 


pliments  to  me,  until  the  Marquis  of  Car- 
marthen returned  and  desired  me  to  go  with 
him  to  his  majesty.  I  went  with  his 
lordship  through  the  levee  room  into  the 
king's  closet.  The  door  was  shut,  and  I 
was  left  with  his  majesty  and  the  secretary 
of  state  alone.  I  made  the  three  rever- 
ences :  one  at  the  door,  another  about  half- 
way, and  another  before  the  presence, 
according  to  the  usage  established  at  this 
and  all  the  northern  courts  of  Europe,  and 


74 


FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


then  I  addressed  myself  to  his  majesty  in 
the  following  words : 

"SiRE:  The  United  States  have  ap- 
pointed me  minister  plenipotentiary  to 
your  majesty,  and  have  directed  me  to 
deliver  to  your  majesty  this  letter,  which 
contains  the  evidence  of  it.  It  is  in  obe- 


dience  to  their  express  commands,  that  I 
have  the  honor  to  assure  your  majesty  of 
their  unanimous  disposition  and  desire  to 
cultivate  the  most  friendly  and  liberal  in- 
tercourse between  your  majesty's  subjects 
and  their  citizens,  and  of  their  best  wishes 
for  your  majesty's  health  and  happiness, 
and  for  that  of  your  family. 

The  appointment  of  a  minister  from  the 
United  States  to  your  majesty's  court  will 
form  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  England 
and  America.  I  think  myself  more  fortu- 
nate than  all  my  fellow-citizens,  in  having 
the  distinguished  honor  to  be  the  first  to 
stand  in  your  majesty's  royal  presence  in 
a  diplomatic  character,  and  I  shall  esteem 
myself  the  happiest  of  men,  if  I  can  be 
instrumental  in  recommending  my  country 
more  and  more  to  your  majesty's  royal 
benevolence,  and  of  restoring  an  entire 
esteem,  confidence,  and  affection ;  or,  in 
better  words,  '  the  old  good  nature  and  the 
good  old  humor,'  between  people  who, 
though  separated  by  an  ocean,  and  under 
different  governments,  have  the  same  lan- 
guage, a  similar  religion,  a  kindred  blood. 
I  beg  your  majesty's  permission  to  add, 


that,  although  I  have  sometimes  before 
been  instructed  by  my  country,  it  was 
never  in  my  whole  life  in  a  manner  so 
agreeable  to  myself." 

The  king  listened  to  every  word  I  said, 
•with  dignity,  it  is  true,  but  with  apparent 
emotion.  Whether  it  was  my  visible  agi- 
tation, for  I  felt  more  than  I  could  ex- 
r  ' 

press,  that  touched  him,  I  cannot  say ; 
but  he  was  much  affected,  and  answered 
me  with  more  tremor  than  I  had  spoken 
with,  and  said — 

"  SIR  :  The  circumstances  of  this  audi- 
ence are  so  extraordinary,  the  language 
you  have  now  held  is  so  extremely  proper, 
and  the  feelings  you  have  discovered  so 
justly  adapted  to  the  occasion,  that  I  not 
only  receive  with  pleasure  the  assurance 
of  the  friendly  disposition  of  the  United 
States,  but  I  am  glad  the  choice  has  fallen 
upon  you  to  be  their  minister.  I  wish  you, 
sir,  to  believe,  that  it  may  be  understood 
in  America,  that  I  have  done  nothing  in 
the  late  contest  but  what  I  thought  myself 
indispensably  bound  to  do,  by  the  duty 
which  I  owed  my  people.  I  will  be  frank 
with  you.  I  was  the  last  to  conform  to 
the  separation ;  but  the  separation  having 
become  inevitable,  I  have  always  said,  as  I 
now  say,  that  I  would  be  the  first  to  meet 
the  friendship  of  the  United  States  as  an 
independent  power.  The  moment  I  see 
such  sentiments  and  language  as  yours 
prevail,  and  a  disposition  to  give  this 
country  the  preference,  that  moment  I 
shall  say,  let  the  circumstances  of  lan- 
guage, religion,  and  blood,  have  their  nat- 
ural, full  effect." 

The  king  then  asked  me  whether  I 
came  last  from  France  ;  upon  my  answer- 
ing in  the  affirmative,  he  put  on  an  air  of 
familiarity,  and,  smiling,  or  rather  laugh- 
ing, said — 

"  There  is  an  opinion  among  some  peo- 
ple that  you  are  not  the  most  attached  of 
all  your  countrymen  to  the  manners  of 
France." 

"  That  opinion,  sir,  is  not  mistaken ;  1 
must  avow  to  your  majesty,  I  have  no  at~ 
tachment  but  to  my  own  country." 

The  king  replied  as  quick  as  lightning — 


FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


75 


"An  honest  man  will  have  no  other." 

The  king  then  said  a  word  or  two  to 
the  secretary  of  state,  which,  being  be- 
tween them,  I  did  not  hear,  and  then 
turned  round  and  bowed  to  me,  as  is 
customary  with  all  kings  and  princes 
when  they  give  the  signal  to  retire.  I 
retreated,  stepping  backwards,  as  is  the 
etiquette,  and  making  my  last  reverence 
at  the  door  of  the  chamber. 

Mr.  Adams  was  yet  to  pay  his  first 
court  of  homage  to  the  queen.  He  was 
presented  to  her  on  the  ninth  of  June, 
by  Lord  Allesbury,  her  lord-chamber- 
lain,— having  first  been  attended  to  his 
lordship  and  introduced  to  him  by  the 
master  of  the  ceremonies.  The  queen 
was  accompanied  by  her  ladies-in-wait- 
ing, and  Mr.  Adams  made  his  compli- 
ments to  her  majesty  in  the  following 
words : 

"MADAM, — Among  the  many  circum- 
stances which  have  rendered  my  mission 
to  his  majesty  desirable  to  me,  I  have 
ever  considered  it  a  principal  one,  that  I 
should  have  an  opportunity  of  paying 
my  court  to  a  great  queen,  whose  royal 
virtues  and  talents  have  ever  been  ac- 
knowledged and  admired  in  America,  as 
well  as  in  all  the  nations  of  Europe,  as 
an  example  to  princesses  and  the  glory  of 
her  sex. 

Permit  me,  madam,  to  recommend  to 
your  majesty's  royal  goodness  a  rising  em- 
pire and  an  infant  virgin  world. 

Another  Europe,  madam,  is  rising  in 
America.  To  a  philosophical  mind,  like 
your  majesty's,  there  cannot  be  a  more 
pleasing  contemplation,  than  the  prospect 
of  doubling  the  human  species,  and  aug- 
menting, at  the  same  time,  their  prosper- 
ity and  happiness.  It  will,  in  future  ages, 
be  the  glory  of  these  kingdoms  to  have 
peopled  that  country,  and  to  have  sown 
there  those  seeds  of  science,  of  liberty,  of 
virtue,  and  permit  me,  madam,  to  add,  of 
piety,  which  alone  constitute  the  prosper- 
ity of  nations  and  the  happiness  of  the 
human  race. 

After  venturing  upon  such  high  insinu- 
ations to  your  majesty,  it  seems  to  be 


descending  too  far,  to  ask,  as  I  do,  your 
majesty's  royal  indulgence  to  a  person  who 
is  indeed  unqualified  for  courts,  and  who 
owes  his  elevation  to  this  distinguished 
honor  of  standing  before  your  majesty,  not 
to  any  circumstances  of  illustrious  birth, 
fortune,  or  abilities,  but  merely  te  an 
ardent  devotion  to  his  native  country,  and 
some  little  industry  and  perseverance  in 
her  service." 

To  this  address  of  Mr.  Adams,  the 
queen  answered,  in  the  accustomed  royal 
brevity,  as  follows  : 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  civilities  to 
me  and  my  family,  and  am  glad  to  see 
you  in  this  country." 

The  queen  then  asked  Mr.  Adams  if  he 
had  provided  himself  with  a  house,  to 
which  question  answer  was  made  that  he 
had  agreed  for  one  that  morning.  She 
then  made  her  courtesy,  and  the  envoy 
made  his  reverence,  retiring  at  once  into 
the  drawing-room,  where  the  king,  queen, 
princess  royal,  and  the  younger  princess, 
her  sister,  all  spoke  to  the  new  minister 
very  courteously. 

But,  notwithstanding  the  memorable 
historical  bearings  of  this  mission  of  the 
great  American  statesman,  as  first  ambas- 
sador of  the  new-born  republic,  to  his  late 
august  sovereign, — a  mission  which  riveted 
the  attention  of  the  civilized  world, — and 
although  George  the  Third  had  submitted 
with  dignity  to  the  painful  necessity  of 
such  a  meeting,  the  embassy  was  attended 
with  no  permanently  favorable  result  either 
to  America  or  to  Mr.  Adams.  Indeed,  of 
the  many  humiliations  which  befell  the 
unhappy  George,  perhaps  few  were  felt  so 
bitterly  as  this  almost  compulsory  inter- 
view with  the  representative  of  a  people, 
once  his  subjects,  afterwards  rebels,  and 
now  free. 

Well  and  truthfully  has  the  historian 
said,  that,  in  the  conduct  of  the  king, 
on  this  occasion,  the  obvious  wisdom  of 
conciliating  the  young  and  rising  nation 
on  the  western  side  of  the  Atlantic  was 
forgotten,  and  the  error  of  supercilious 
neglect  was  preferred.  Throughout  the 
whole  political  history  of  Great  Britain 


76 


FIRST  MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND. 


this  marked  fault  may  be  traced  in  its 
relations  with  foreign  nations,  but  it 
never  showed  itself  in  more  striking  col- 
ors than  during  the  first  half  century 


after  the  independence  of  the  United 
States.  The  effects  of  the  mistake  then 
committed  have  been  perceptible  ever 
since. 


VIII. 

FORMATION  AND  ADOPTION  OF  THE  FEDERAL  CONSTI- 
TUTION.—1787. 


The  United  States  no  Longer  a  People  Without  a  Government. — Establishment  of  the  Republic  on  a 
Permanent  Foundation  of  Unity,  Organic  Law  and  National  Polity. — Dignity,  Learning,  and  Elo- 
quence of  the  Delegates. — Sublime  Scene  on  Signing  the  Instrument. — Extraordinary  Character  of 
the  Whole  Transaction. — State  of  Things  After  the  War. — Financial  Embarrassment. — Despondency 
of  the  People. — Grave  Crisis  in  Public  Affairs. — A  Grand  Movement  Initiated. — Plan  of  Government 
to  be  Framed. — All  the  States  in  Convention. — Washington  Chosen  to  Preside. — Statesmen  and  Sages 
in  Council. — The  Old  Compact  Abrogated.— New  Basis  of  Union  Proposed. — Various  Schemes  Dis- 
cussed.— Jealousy  of  the  Smaller  States. — Angry  Debates,  Sectional  Threats. — Bad  Prospects  of  the 
Convention. — Its  Dissolution  Imminent. — Franklin's  Impressive  Appeal. — Compromise  and  Concilia- 
tion.—Final  System  Agreed  Upon.— Patriotism  Rules  all  Hearts.— Ratification  by  the  States. — Na- 
tional Joy  at  the  Decision. 


"  Should  the  states  reject  thii  excellent  Constitution,  the  probability  is  that  an  opportunity  will  never  again  be  offered  to  cancel  another  in 
peace— the  next  will  be  drawn  in  blood."— REMARK  OF  WASHINGTON  OK  SIGNING  TUB  CONSTITUTION. 


ESROLLIXO   THE  CONSTITUTION. 


HOUGH  the  close  of  the 
war  of  independence 
resulted  in  the  establish- 
ment of  a  free  national- 
ity, it  nevertheless 
brought  anxious  solici- 
tude to  every  patriot's 
mind,  and  this  state  of 
apprehension  and  disqui- 
etude increased  with  each 
succeeding  year.  The 
state  debts  which  had 
been  incurred  in  anticipation  of  prosperous  times,  operated  severely,  after  a  while,  on 
all  classes  in  the  community;  to  meet  the  payment  of  these  debts,  at  maturity,  was 
impossible,  and  every  relief-act  only  added  to  the  difficulty.  This,  and  kindred 
troubles,  financial  and  governmental,  impressed  the  people  with  the  gloomy  conviction 
that  the  great  work  of  independence,  as  contemplated  in  the  revolutionary  struggle, 
was  only  half  done.  It  was  felt  that,  above  all  things,  a  definite  and  organic  form 
of  government — reflecting  the  will  of  the  people — should  be  fixed  upon,  to  give  energy 
to  national  power,  and  success  to  individual  and  public  enterprise.  So  portentous  a 
crisis  as  this  formed  another  epoch  for  the  display  of  the  intellectual  and  political 
attainments  of  American  statesmen,  and  the  ordeal  was  one  through  which  they  passed 
with  the  highest  honor,  and  with  ever-enduring  fame,  at  home  and  abroad.  New  men 
appeared  on  the  stage  of  legislative  council  and  action,  and  it  was  found  that  the  quan- 


78 


FOKMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


tity  of  talent  and  information  necessary  in 
the  formation  period  of  a  new  republic 
had  greatly  increased  in  the  various  states. 
But,  in  especial,  the  great  minds  that 
achieved  the  revolution  beheld  with  deep 
concern  their  country  impoverished  and 
distracted  at  home,  and  of  no  considera- 
tion among  the  family  of  nations. 

A  change  was  now  to  be  wrought,  the 
grandeur  of  which  would  be  acknowledged 
throughout  all  lands,  and  its  importance 
reach  forward  to  the  setting  of  the  sun  of 
time.  The  same  hall  which  had  resounded 
with  words  of  patriotic  defiance  that  shook 
the  throne  of  King  George  and  proclaimed 
to  an  astonished  world  the  Declaration  of 
Independence, — that  same  hall  in  which 
congress  had  continued  to  sit  during  the 
greater  part  of  the  momentous  period  in- 
tervening,— in  the  state  house  at  Phila- 
delphia, was  soon  to  witness  the  assem- 
bling of  such  a  body  of  men  as,  in  point  of 
intellectual  talent,  personal  integrity,  and 
lofty  purpose,  had  perhaps  never  before 
been  brought  together.  The  curious  stu- 
dent of  this  page  in  modern  history  has 
sometimes  plausibly  but  speciously  attrib- 
uted to  mere  chance — instead  of  to  that 
Providence  which  rules  in  the  affairs  of 
men — this  timely  and  grand  event.  Thus, 
General  Washington,  having  contemplated 
with  great  interest  a  plan  for  uniting  the 
Potomac  and  the  Ohio  rivers,  and  by  this 
means  connecting  the  eastern  and  western 
waters,  made  a  journey  of  six  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  on  horseback,  taking  minute 
notes  of  everything  which  could  be  subserv- 
ient to  this  project.  His  influence,  and 
the  real  importance  pf  the  design,  induced 
the  legislatures  of  Virginia  and  Maryland 
to  send  commissioners  to  Alexandria  to 
deliberate  on  the  subject.  They  met  in 
March,  1785,  and  having  spent  some  time 
at  Mount  Vernon,  determined  to  recom- 
mend another  commission,  which  might 
establish  a  general  tariff  on  imports.  The 
Virginia  legislature  not  only  agreed,  but 
invited  the  other  states  to  send  deputies 
to  meet  at  Annapolis.  In  September, 
1786,  they  had  arrived  from  five  only,  and 
with  too  limited  powers.  A  number  of 


able  statesmen,  however,  were  thus  assem- 
bled, who,  feeling  deeply  the  depressed 
and  distracted  state  of  the  country,  became 
sensible  that  something  on  a  much  greater 
scale  was  necessary  to  raise  her  to  pros- 
perity, and  give  her  a  due  place  among 
the  nations.  They  therefore  drew  up  a 
report  and  address  to  all  the  states, 
strongly  representing  the  inefficiency  of 
the  present  federal  government,  and  earn- 
estly urging  them  to  send  delegates  to 
meet  at  Philadelphia  in  May,  1787.  Con- 
gress responded  to  this  proceeding  in  Feb- 
ruary, by  the  passage  of  resolutions  rec- 
ommending the  proposed  measure, — but  of 
which,  perhaps,  they  did  not  then  contem- 
plate all  the  momentous  results. 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting 
of  the  convention,  May  fourteenth,  1787, 
only  a  small  number  of  the  delegates  had 
arrived  in  Philadelphia.  The  delibera- 
tions did  not  commence,  therefore,  until 
May  twenty-fifth,  when  there  were  pres- 
ent twenty-nine  members,  representing 
nine  states.  Others  soon  after  came  in, 
till  the  whole  number  amounted  to  fifty- 
five.  Never,  perhaps,  had  any  body  of 
men  combined  for  so  great  a  purpose — to 
form  a  constitution  which  was  to  rule  so 
numerous  a  people,  and  probably  during 
so  many  generations.  The  members,  con- 
sisting of  the  very  ablest  men  in  America, 
were  not  unworthy  of,  nor  unequal  to,  so 
high  a  trust. 

Towering  above  all  these  men  of  might, 
in  his  world-wide  fame  and  in  the  genius 
of  his  personal  ascendency,  was  Washing- 
ton, intrusted  by  the  commonwealth  of 
Virginia  with  the  work  of  cementing  to- 
gether the  sisterhood  of  states  in  one  in- 
dissoluble bond  of  mutual  interest,  co-ope- 
ration, and  renown.  And  there  was  Eufus 
King,  from  Massachusetts,  young  in  years, 
but  mature  in  wisdom  and  brilliant  in  ora- 
tory; Langdon,  from  New  Hampshire, 
strong  in  his  understanding  and  readily 
mastering  the  most  intricate  details ;  El- 
bridge  Gerry,  of  Massachusetts,  exhibiting 
the  utmost  zeal  and  fidelity  in  the  per- 
formance of  his  official  duties;  Caleb 
Strong,  from  the  same  state,  plain  in  his 


FORMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


79 


CONVENTION  AT  PHILADELPHIA,   1787. 


appearance,  but  calm,  firm,  intelligent,  and 
well-balanced;  Ellsworth,  from  Connecti- 
cut, elegant  in  his  manners,  and  distin- 
guished for  his  energy  of  mind,  clear 
reasoning  powers,  and  effective  eloquence  ; 
Sherman,  his  colleague,  a  statesman  and 
jurist  whose  fame  has  extended  far  beyond 
the  western  world;  Hamilton,  from  New 
York,  spare  and  fragile  in  person,  but 
keen,  active,  laborious,  transcendent  in 
his  abilities  and  of  unsullied  integrity; 
Livingston,  from  New  Jersey,  of  scholarly 
tastes,  uncompromisingly  republican  in  his 
politics,  and  fearless  in  the  expression  of 
his  opinions;  Franklin,  from  Pennsylvania, 
one  of  the  profoundest  philosophers  in  the 
world,  and,  though  now  rising  of  four- 
score years,  capable  of  grasping  and  throw- 
ing light  upon  the  most  recondite  ques- 
tions relating  to  the  science  of  govern- 
ment ;  Kobert  Morris,  from  Pennsylvania, 
the  great  financier,  of  whom  it  has  been 
said,  and  with  much  truth,  that  'the 
Americans  owed,  and  still  owe,  as  much 
acknowledgment  to  the  financial  operations 
of  Eobert  Morris,  as  to  the  negotiations  of 


Benjamin  Franklin,  or  even  to  the  arms 
of  George  Washington ; '  Gouverneur 
Morris,  from  the  same  state,  conspicuous 
for  his  accomplishments  in  learning,  his 
fluent  conversation,  and  sterling  abilities 
in  debate ;  Clymer,  distinguished  among 
the  sons  of  Pennsylvania,  as  one  of  the 
first  to  raise  a  defiant  voice  against  the 
arbitrary  acts  of  the  mother  country ; 
Mifflin,  another  delegate  from  the  land  of 
Penn,  ardent  almost  beyond  discretion,  in 
zeal  for  his  country's  rights  and  liberties ; 
Dickinson,  from  New  Jersey,  a  patriot, 
who,  though  the  only  member  of  the  con- 
tinental congress  opposed  to  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence,  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  premature,  was  nevertheless  the  only 
member  of  that  body  who  immediately 
shouldered  his  musket  and  went  forth  to 
face  the  enemy ;  Wythe,  from  Virginia, 
wise,  grave,  deeply  versed  in  the  law,  and 
undaunted  in  the  defense  of  liberty  for  the 
the  people;  Madison,  also  from  Virginia, 
talented,  thoughtful,  penetrating,  one  of 
the  brightest  ornaments  of  his  state  and 
nation;  Martin,  from  Maryland,  a  jurist 


80 


FORMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


of  vast  attainments  and  commanding 
powers;  Davie,  from  North  Carolina,  of 
splendid  physique,  one  of  the  master-minds 
of  the  country ;  Rutledge,  from  South  Car- 
olina, pronounced  by  Washington  *o  be 
the  finest  orator  in  the  continental  con- 
gress; Pinckney,  from  the  same  state, 
a  soldier  and  lawyer  of  unrivaled  abili- 
ties;— and  thus  the  record  might  go  on, 
until  it  embraced  all  the  names  of  this 
eminent  assemblage  of  America's  noblest 
patriots  and  most  illustrious  historic  char- 
acters, "all,  all,  honorable  men." 

On  proceeding  with  the  organization  of 
the  convention,  George  Washington  was 
nominated  by  Robert  Morris  to  preside 
over  its  deliberations,  and  was  unanimously 
elected.  The  standing  rules  were  then 
adopted,  one  of  these  being  that  nothing 
spoken  in  the  house  be  printed  or  other- 
wise published,  or  made  known  in  any 
manner,  without  special  permission.  And 
in  this  connection,  the  following  little  epi- 
sode, which  has  come  to  light,  will  doubt- 
less be  read  as  a  refreshing  reminiscence 
of  the  "  secret "  doings  among  those  grave 
old  worthies : 

One  of  the  members  of  the  Georgia  del- 
egation was  Mr.  ,  a  gentleman,  the 

zeal  of  whose  legislative  mind  and  efforts 
sometimes  quite  ate  up  his  attention  to 
mere  extraneous  matters.  Like  all  the 
rest  of  his  associates  in  the  assembly,  he 
had  been  furnished  with  a  schedule  of  the 
principal  points  of  debate,  or  subjects  of 
consideration,  which  were  to  be  brought 
before  the  convention  as  constituting  its 
business,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  par- 
liamentary usage  of  secrecy,  this  pro- 
gramme of  the  convention's  duties  and 
deliberations  was  with  especial  care  to  be 
kept  from  disclosure  during  the  period  of 
'*;s  sittings.  It  happened,  however,  that 
one  of  the  delegates  unfortunately  lost  his 
copy  of  this  official  schedule  or  orders  of 
the  day.  General  Mifflin,  one  of  the  del- 
egates from  Pennsjdvania,  by  good  chance 
discovered  the  stray  document,  and,  ex- 
plaining the  circumstances  to  Washing- 
ton, placed  it  in  the  latter's  hands,  who, 
in  silence  and  gravity,  deposited  it  among 


his  own  papers.  At  the  close  of  that  day's 
proceedings,  and  just  previously  to  the 
convention's  rising,  Washington,  as  pre- 
siding officer,  called  the  attention  of  the 
assembly  to  the  matter  in  question,  in  the 
following  characteristic  remarks : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  am  sorry  to  find  that 
some  one  member  of  this  body  has  been  so 
neglectful  of  the  secrets  of  this  convention, 
as  to  drop  in  the  state  house  a  copy  of 
their  proceedings — which,  by  accident,  was 
picked  up  and  delivered  to  me  this  morn- 
ing I  must  entreat  gentlemen  to  be 
more  careful,  lest  our  transactions  get  into 
the  newspapers,  and  disturb  the  public 
repose  by  premature  speculations.  I  know 
not  whose  paper  it  is,  but  there  it  is 
(throwing  it  down  on  the  table)  ;  let  him 
who  owns  it  take  it." 

But  to  proceed  with  the  historical 
sketch  of  this  most  august  body  of  modern 
legislators. 

They  had  been  appointed  merely  with  a 
view  to  the  revision  or  improvement  of  the 
old  articles  of  confederation,  which  still 
held  them  precariously  together  as  a  na- 
tion ;  yet  they  had  not  deliberated  long, 
when  they  determined  that  the  existing 
compact  or  system  of  government  must  be 
swept  away.  The  question,  however,  as  to 
what  should  be  substituted  in  its  place,  was 
one  of  extreme  difficulty.  Mr.  Randolph,  of 
Virginia,  opened  the  great  discussion  by  a 
speech  in  which  he  laid  bare  the  defects  of 
the  confederation,  and  then  submitted  a 
series  of  resolutions  embodying  the  sub- 
stance of  a  plan  of  government — the  same, 
in  character,  as  that  contained  in  letters 
written  by  Mr.  Madison  to  Mr.  Jefferson, 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  General  Washington, 
a  few  months  previous. 

The  plan  in  question  proposed  the  form- 
ation of  a  general  government,  consti- 
tuted as  follows :  The  national  legislature 
to  consist  of  two  branches — the  members 
of  the  first  branch  to  be  elected  by  the 
people  of  the  several  states,  and  the 
members  of  the  second  branch  to  be  elected 
by  the  first  branch,  out  of  a  proper  number 
nominated  by  the  state  legislatures;  the 
national  legislature  to  have  a  negative  on 


FORMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


81 


all  the  state  laws  contravening  the  articles 
of  union,  and  to  have  power  to  legislate  in 
all  cases  where  the  states  were  incompe- 
tent ;  the  right  of  suffrage  in  the  legisla- 
ture to  be  proportioned  to  the  quota  of 
contribution,  or  to  the  number  of  free  in- 
habitants; a  national  executive  to  be 
chosen  by  the  national  legislature ;  a  na- 
tional judiciary,  to  consist  of  one  or  more 
supreme  tribunals  and  inferior  ones,  the 
judges  to  be  chosen  by  the  national  legis- 
lature ;  the  executive,  and  a  convenient 
number  of  the  national  judiciary,  to  com- 


FKASKLIX  PLEAD1XG  FOB  PACIFICATION. 

pose  a  council  of  revision  to  examine  every 
act  of  the  national  legislature  before  it 
should  operate,  and  every  act  of  a  particu- 
lar legislature  before  a  negative  thereon 
should  be  final ;  provision  to  be  made  for 
the  admission  of  new  states  to  the  Union ; 
a  republican  form  of  government  to  be 
administered  in  each  state ;  provision  to 
be  made  for  amendments  to  the  articles  of 
union  ;  the  legislative,  executive,  and  judi- 
ciary powers,  or  officials,  of  the  several 
states,  to  be  bound  by  oath  to  support  the 

articles  of  union. 

6 


A  good  degree  of  favor  was  shown  to 
Mr.  Randolph's  plan,  but  not  sufficient  to 
prevent  other  projects,  conspicuous  among 
these  being  one  by  Mr.  Patterson,  of  New 
Jersey,  and  another  by  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton, from  being  brought  forward  and  urged 
by  their  respective  friends, — all  of  these 
being  republican  in  their  general  features, 
but  differing  in  their  details. 

For  some  days,  angry  debates  occurred 
which,  but  for  the  timely  and  healing 
wisdom  of  Dr.  Franklin,  the  Mentor  of 
the  convention,  would  have  ended  in  the 
breaking  up  of  the  body.  As  soon 
as  there  was  an  opening  for  him  to 
speak,  the  doctor  rose,  and  in  a  most 
impressive  manner,  said,  among 
ether  things  : 

"  It  is  to  bo  feared  that  the  mem- 
bers of  this  convention  are  not  in  a 
temper,  at  this  moment,  to  approach 
the  subject  on  which  we  differ,  in 
a  candid  spirit.  I  would  therefore 
propose,  Mr.  President,  that,  without 
proceeding  further  in  this  business 
at  this  time,  the  convention  shall 
adjourn  for  three  days,  in  order  to  let 
the  present  ferment  pass  off,  and  to 
afford  time  for  a  more  full,  free,  and 
dispassionate  investigation  of  the 
subject ;  and  I  would  earnestly  rec- 
ommend to  the  members  of  this  con- 
vention, that  they  spend  the  time  of 
this  recess,  not  in  associating  with 
their  own  party,  and  devising  new 
arguments  to  fortify  themselves  in 
their  old  opinions,  but  that  they  mix 
with  members  of  opposite  senti- 
ments, lend  a  patient  ear  to  their  reason- 
ings, and  candidly  allow  them  all  the 
weight  to  which  they  may  be  entitled ; 
and  when  we  assemble  again,  I  hope  it  will 
be  with  a  determination  to  form  a  consti- 
tution ;  if  not  such  an  one  as  we  can  indi- 
vidually, and  in  all  respects,  approve,  yet 
the  best  which,  under  existing  circum- 
stances, can  be  obtained."  (Here  the 
countenance  of  Washington  brightened, 
and  a  cheering  ray  seemed  to  break  in 
upon  the  gloom  of  the  assembly.)  The 
doctor  continued : 


82 


FORMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


"Before  I  sit  down,  Mr.  President,  I 
will  suggest  another  matter ;  and  I  am 
really  surprised  that  it  has  not  been  pro- 
posed by  some  other  member,  at  an  earlier 
period  of  our  deliberations.  I  will  sug- 
gest, Mr.  President,  the  propriety  of  nom- 
inating and  appointing,  before  we  separate,; 
a  chaplain  to  this  convention,  whose  duty 
it  shall  be  uniformly  to  assemble  with  us, 
and  introduce  the  business  of  each  day  by 
imploring  the  assistance  of  Heaven,  and 
its  blessing  upon  our  deliberations." 

The  doctor  sat  down,  and  never  did  a 
countenance  appear  at  once  so  dignified 
and  so  delighted  as  that  of  Washington, 
at  the  close  of  this  address.  The  motion 
for  appointing  a  chaplain  was  instantly 
seconded  and  carried.  The  convention 
also  chose  a  committee,  by  ballot,  consist- 
ing of  one  from  each  state,  to  sit  during  the 
recess,  and  then  adjourned  for  three  days. 

The  three  days  were  spent  in  the 
manner  advised  by  Doctor  Franklin.  On 
re-assembling,  the  chaplain  appeared  and 
led  the  devotions  of  the  assembly,  and  the 
minutes  of  the  last  sitting  were  read.  All 
eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  venerable 
doctor.  He  rose,  and  in  a  few  words 
•tated,  that  during  the  recess  he  had  list- 
ened attentively  to  all  the  arguments,  pro 
and  con,  which  had  been  urged  by  both 
sides  of  the  house;  that  he  had  himself 
said  much,  and  thought  more,  on  the  sub- 
ject ;  he  saw  difficulties  and  objections, 
which  might  be  urged  by  individual  states, 
against  every  scheme  which  had  been  pro- 
posed; and  he  was  now,  more  than  ever, 
convinced  that  the  constitution  which  they 
were  about  to  form,  in  order  to  be  just  and 
equal,  must  be  formed  on  the  basis  of 
compromise  and  mutual  concession.  With 
such  views  and  feelings,  he  would  now 
move  a  reconsideration  of  the  vote  last 
taken  on  the  organization  of  the  senate. 
The  motion  was  seconded,  the  vote  carried, 
the  former  vote  rescinded,  and  by  a  suc- 
cessive motion  and  resolution,  the  senate 
was  organized  on  the  present  plan. 

On  the  seventeenth  of  September,  the 
final  debate  closed,  the  last  amendment  was 
adopted,  and  the  result  of  the  convention's 


labors  was  the  formation  of  a  constitution 
establishing  a  national  government  on  the 
following  prescribed  principles :  That  the 
affairs  of  the  people  of  the  United  States 
were  thenceforth  to  be  administered,  not 
by  a  confederacy,  or  mere  league  of  friend- 
ship between  the  sovereign  states,  but  by 
a  government,  distributed  into  the  three 
great  departments  —  legislative,  judicial, 
and  executive ;  that  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment should  be  limited  to  concerns  per- 
taining to  the  whole  people,  leaving  the 
internal  administration  of  each  state,  in 
time  of  peace,  to  its  own  constitution  and 
laws,  provided  that  they  should  be  repub- 
lican, and  interfering  with  them  as  little 
as  possible  in  case  of  war ;  that  the  legis- 
lative power  of  this  government  should  be 
divided  between  the  two  assemblies,  one 
representing  directly  the  people  of  the 
separate  states,  and  the  other  their  legisla- 
tures ;  that  the  executive  power  of  this 
government  should  be  vested  in  one  person 
chosen  for  four  years,  with  certain  quali- 
fications of  age  and  nativity,  and  invested 
with  a  qualified  negative  upon  the  enact- 
ment of  the  laws;  and  that  the  judicial 
power  should  consist  of  tribunals  inferior 
and  supreme,  to  be  instituted  and  organ- 
ized by  congress,  the  judges  removable 
only  by  impeachment. 

Thus,  finally  amended,  the  constitution 
was  signed  by  all  the  members  present, 
except  by  Messrs.  Randolph  and  Mason,  of 
Virginia,  and  Gerry,  of  Massachusetts. 
The  scene  is  described  as  one  of  historic 
solemnity,  rising  almost  to  the  sublime. 
When  Washington,  whose  turn  came  first, 
was  about  to  sign  the  instrument  ordained 
to  be  henceforth — if  ratified  by  the  several 
states — the  palladium  of  his  country's  na- 
tional existence,  and  the  formation  of 
which  he  had  watched  over  with  such 
anxious  solicitude,  he  rose  from  his  seat, 
and  holding  the  pen  in  his  hand,  after  a 
short  pause,  pronounced  these  words : 

"  Should  the  states  reject  this  excellent 
Constitution,  the  probability  is  that  an  op- 
portunity, will  never  again  be  offered  to 
cancel  another  in  peace — the  next  will  be 
drawn  in  blood" 


FORMATION  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


83 


And  when,  following  the  example  of 
their  illustrious  leader,  the  other  members 
of  the  convention  appended  their  signa- 
tures, Doctor  Franklin,  with  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  presiding  officer's  seat,  in  the 
rear  of  which  was  the  picture  of  a  halo  or 
sun,  made  the  characteristic  remark: 

"  I  have  often  and  often,  in  the  course 
of  the  session,  and  in  the  vicissitudes  of 
my  hopes  and  fears  as  to  its  issue,  looked 
at  that  sun  behind  the  president,  without 
being  able  to  tell  whether  it  was  rising  or 
sinking;  at  length  I  have  the  happiness 
to  know  it  is  a  rising  and  not  a  setting 
sun." 

The  convention,  however,  which  framed 
the  constitution,  was  not  clothed  with  leg- 
islative power,  nor  was  the  congress  of  the 
confederation  competent  to  accept  it  or 
reject  the  new  form  of  government.  It 
was  referred  by  them  to  the  several  states, 


represented  by  conventions  of  the  people; 
and  it  was  provided  in  the  instrument  it- 
self, that  it  should  become  the  supreme 
law  of  the  land,  when  adopted  by  nine 
states.  It  was  not  till  the  summer  of 
1788  that  the  ratification  of  nine  states 
was  obtained,  beginning  with  Delaware, 
some  by  large,  and  some  by  very  small 
majorities.  The  violence  of  the  opposition 
party  was  in  some  sections  very  great,  re- 
sulting, in  New  York,  in  tumultuous  riots. 
Of  the  thirteen  original  states,  Ehode 
Island  was  the  last  to  accept  the  constitu- 
tion, which  she  did  in  May,  1790. 

The  year  of  suspense,  while  the  Ameri- 
can people  were  debating  the  great  question 
whether  to  accept  or  reject  the  constitu- 
tion offered  them  by  Washington  and  his 
associate  compatriots,  was,  on  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  result,  succeeded  by  a 
national  jubilee. 


IX. 


FIRST  ELECTION  AND  INAUGURATION  OF  A  PRESIDENT 
OF  THE  UNITED  STATES.— 1789. 


Washington,  "  First  in  War,  First  in  Peace,  and  First  in  the  Hearts  of  his  Countrymen,"  the  Nation's 
Spontaneous,  Unanimous  Choice. — His  Triumphal  Progress  from  Home,  and  Solemn  Induction  into 
Office. — Jubilee  throughout  the  Republic,  over  the  August  Event. — Auspicious  Commencement  of 
the  National  Executive  Government  — Requirements  of  the  Constitution  — A  President  to  be  Chosen. 
— Four  Years  the  Term  of  Service. — All  Eyes  Fixed  Upon  Washington. — His  Reluctance  to  Accept. 
— Reasons  Given  for  this  Course. — Urgent  Appeals  to  Him. — The  Result  of  the  Election  —  One 
Voice  and  One  Mind  —He  Bows  to  the  People's  Will.— Joy  Produced  by  His  Decision.— Departs  at 
Once  from  Mount  Vernon.— Farewell  Visits  to  His  Mother.— Inauguration  Appointed  for  March 
Fourth.— Postponement  to  April  Thirtieth. — Order  of  Ceremonies. — New  Spectacle  in  the  Western 
World. — Distinguished  Celebrities  Present.— Washington's  Elegant  Appearance.— Dignity  when 
Taking  the  Oath.— Reverentially  Kisses  the  Bible.— Curious  Customs  Initiated. 


*'  Where  shall  the  eye  rest,  weary  of  gazing  on  the  great, 
where  find  a  glory  that  ti  not  criminal,  a  pomp  that  IB  not  con- 
temptible? Yea,  there  is  a  man,  the  first,  the  last,  the  best  of 
all,  the  Cinclnnatus  of  the  West,  whom  envy  itself  does  not 
hate.  The  name  of  Washington  is  bequeathed  to  us  to  make 
humanity  blush  that  such  a  man  is  alone  in  history  "—  LORD 
BTRON. 


CCORDETO  to  the  terms  of  the  new 
federal  constitution,  which  had  now 
been  assented  to  and  ratified  by  the 

WASHINGTON'S  INAUGURATION  BIBLE.  requisite  number  of  states,  a  President 

of  the  United  States  was  required  to  be  elected  for  a  term  of  four  years ;  and,  amidst 
all  the  discordances  of  political  opinion  respecting  the  merits  of  the  constitution  itself, 
there  was  but  one  sentiment  throughout  the  country  as  to  the  man  who  should  admin- 
ister the  affairs  of  the  government.  All  eyes  were  directed  to  WASHINGTON,  and  at  an 
early  period  his  correspondents  endeavored  to  prepare  his  mind  to  gratify  the  expecta- 
tions of  the  people.  Mr.  Johnson,  a  distinguished  patriot  of  Maryland,  wrote  him, 
"We  can  not  do  without  you."  Indeed,  he  alone  was  believed  to  fill  so  pre-eminent  a 
place  in  the  public  esteem,  that  he  might  be  called  to  the  head  of  the  nation  without 
exciting  envy ;  and  he  alone  possessed  in  so  unlimited  a  degree  the  confidence  of  the 
masses,  that,  under  his  auspices,  the  friends  of  the  new  political  system  might  hope  to 
see  it  introduced  with  a  degree  of  firmness  which  would  enable  it  to  resist  the  open 
assaults  and  secret  plots  of  its  many  enemies. 

By  almost  all  who  were  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  Washington,  fears  were  enter- 
tained that  his  earnest  desire  for  private  life  and  the  improvement  of  his  vast  and  long- 
neglected  plantations,  would  prevail  over  the  wishes  of  the  public,— an  acquiescence 
in  which  wishes  was  believed  to  be  absolutely  essential  to  the  completion  of  that  great 
work,  the  Constitution,  on  which  the  grandeur  and  happiness  of  America  was  deemed  to 


FIRST  ELECTION  OF  A  PRESIDENT. 


85 


depend.  The  struggle,  on  his  part,  be- 
tween inclination  and  duty,  was  long  and 
severe,  as  is  evident  by  the  letters  which  he 
wrote  on  the  subject,  in  response  to  the  ap- 
peals and  importunities  constantly  made  by 
his  friends.  Colonel  Lee,  then  a  distin- 
guished member  of  congress,  communicat- 
ing to  Washington  the  measures  which  that 
body  were  adopting  to  introduce  the  govern- 
ment just  ordained,  thus  alludes  to  the 
presidency :  "  Without  you,  the  govern- 
ment can  have  but  little  chance  of  success  ; 
and  the  people,  of  that  happiness  which 
its  prosperity  must  yield."  So,  also,  Mr. 
Gouverneur  Morris,  a  patriot  who  had  been 
one  of  the  most  valuable  members  of  con- 
gress during  a  great  part  of  the  war,  and 
who  had  performed  a  splendid  part  in  the 
general  convention,  wrote :  "  I  have  ever 
thought,  and  have  ever  said  that  you  must 
be  the  president;  no  other  man  can  fill 
that  office."  The  great  Hamilton  likewise 
urged  him  to  accept  the  office,  and  thus 
yield  to  the  general  call  of  the  country  in 
relation  to  its  new  and  untried  govern- 
ment. "  You  will  permit  me  to  say," 
wrote  Hamilton,  "  that  it  is  indispensable 
you  should  lend  yourself  to  its  first  opera- 
tions. It  is  to  little  purpose  to  have  in- 
troduced a  system,  if  the  weightiest  influ- 
ence is  not  given  to  its  firm  establishment 
at  the  outset."  Such  arguments  and  en- 
treaties as  these  poured  in  upon  Washing- 
ton from  all  quarters  of  the  broad  land, 
that  he  should  consent  to  assume  the  pres- 
idential chair. 

But  the  election  had  taken  place,  in 
obedience  to  the  fundamental  law ;  and  at 
length,  the  votes  for  the  president  and 
vice-president  of  the  United  States  were, 
as  prescribed  in  the  constitution,  opened 
and  counted  in  the  senate.  The  result 
showed,  that  neither  the  animosity  of  par- 
ties, nor  the  activity  of  the  enemies  of  the 
newly-formed  government,  could  deprive 
General  Washington  of  a  single  vote  in 
the  electoral  college.  By  the  voluntary 
and  spontaneous  voice  of  a  great  people, 
he  was  called  to  the  chief  magistracy  of 
the  nation.  The  second  number  of  votes 
was  given  to  Mr.  John  Adams,  of  Massa- 


chusetts. George  Washington  and  John 
Adams  were  therefore  declared  to  be  duly 
elected  president  and  vice-president  of  the 
United  States,  to  serve  for  four  years  from 
the  fourth  of  March,  1789. 

At  Mount  Vernon,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
April,  1789,  the  appointment  of  General 
Washington  as  supreme  executive  of  the 
republic  was  officially  announced  to  him. 
This  commission  was  performed  by  Mr. 
Charles  Thomson,  secretary  of  the  late 
congress,  who  presented  to  him  a  certifi- 
cate signed  by  John  Langdon,  president 
pro  tempore  of  the  senate,  stating  that  he 
was  unanimously  elected. 

Accustomed  to  respect  the  wishes  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  Washington  did  not  think 
himself  at  liberty  to  decline  an  office  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  unsought  suffrage 
of  an  entire  people.  His  acceptance  of  it, 
and  the  expressions  of  gratitude  he  in- 
dulged in  for  this  fresh  proof  of  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  his  country,  were  min- 
gled with  declarations  of  extreme  diffidence 
in  himself.  "  I  wish,"  he  said,  "  that  there 
may  not  be  reason  for  regretting  the 
choice,  for,  indeed,  all  I  can  promise  is, 
to  accomplish  that  which  can  be  done  by 
an  honest  zeal."  In  this  spirit  of  devoted 
self-sacrifice,  and  realizing  that  the  ur- 
gency of  public  affairs  must  require  the 
immediate  attendance  of  the  president  at 
the  seat  of  government,  he  hastened  his 
departure ;  on  the  sixteenth  of  April, 
therefore, — the  second  day  after  receiving 
the  certificate  of  his  election, — he  bade 
adieu  to  Mount  Vernon,  to  private  life, 
and  to  domestic  felicity,  and,  in  company 
with  Mr.  Thomson  and  Colonel  Hum- 
phreys, proceeded  to  New  York,  where 
congress  was  then  in  session,  to  assume 
the  administration  of  the  new  gorernment. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  weight  of  anxi- 
ety upon  his  mind  concerning  the  public 
business,  he  did  not  omit  to  pay  a  parting 
visit  to  his  venerable  mother.  Embracing 
his  mother,  Washington  bowed  his  head 
upon  her  shoulder  and  wept,  murmuring 
at  the  same  time  something  of  a  hope  that 
they  should  meet  again.  "No,  George," 
she  replied,  "this  is  our  last  parting;  my 


86 


FIRST  ELECTION  OF  A  PRESIDENT. 


days  to  come  are  few.  But  go,  fulfill  your 
high  duties,  and  may  God  bless  and  keep 
you."  She  was  then  afflicted  with  a 


town,  where  the  whole  population  turned 
out  to  do  him  honor.  And  thus  it  was, 
that,  notwithstanding  Washington  wished 


cancer,  of  which  she  died  in  her  eighty- 
second  year. 

Leaving   Alexandria,  he  was  accompa- 
nied by   a   throng  of  citizens  to  George- 


to  make  a  private  journey,  his  desire  could 
not  be  gratified.  The  public  feelings  were 
too  strong  to  be  suppressed.  Crowds 
flocked  around  him  enthusiastically  wher- 


FIKST  ELECTION  OF  A  PKESIDENT. 


87 


ever  he  stopped;  and  corps  of  militia,  and 
processions  of  citizens,  attended  him 
through  their  respective  states.  At  Phil- 
adelphia, he  was  received  by  a  concourse 
of  the  most  distinguished  personages  of 
the  city  and  state,  and  followed  by  thou- 
sands of  people  to  a  grand  banquet,  pre- 
pared for  the  occasion,  where  addresses 
and  sentiments  were  interchanged,  while 
the  air  was  filled  with  the  shouts  of  popu- 
lar exultation,  and  with  one  universal 
acclaim,  invoking  blessings  upon  him.  As 
he  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  a  civic  crown  of 
laurel  Vi-as,  unperceived  by  him,  let  down 
upon  his  head  by  a  youth  who  was  con- 
cealed in  the  arch  of  evergreen  which  dec- 
orated the  bridge.  At  night,  the  whole 
town  was  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  all 
classes  and  ages  spontaneously  united  in 
the  happy  festivities. 

The  next  day,  at  Trenton,  he  was  wel- 
comed in  a  manner  exceedingly  novel  and 
touching.  In  addition  to  the  usual  dem- 
onstrations of  respect  and  attachment, 
which  were  given  by  the  discharge  of 
cannon,  by  military  corps,  and  by  private 
persons  of  distinction,  the  gentler  sex  pre- 
pared, in  their  own  taste,  a  most  unique 
tribute  of  their  regard,  indicative  of  the 
grateful  recollection  in  which  they  held 
their  deliverance  twelve  years  before  from 
an  insulting  enemy.  On  the  bridge  ex- 
tending across  the  stream  which  passes 
through  the  town, — the  place  where  Wash- 
ington, at  one  time,  made  so  gallant  a  sur- 
prise on  the  enemy  of  his  country,  and  at 
another,  so  important  a  stand,  and  a  re- 
treat worth  more  than  a  victory, — a  tri- 
umphal arch  was  erected,  with  evergreen 
and  floral  adornments,  and  supported  by 
thirteen  pillars  similarly  enwreathed.  On 
the  front  was  inscribed,  in  large  golden 
letters  :  '  THE  DEFENDER  OF  THE  MOTH- 
ERS WILL  BE  THE  PROTECTOR  OF  THE 

DAUGHTERS.'  Over  this,  in  the  center  of 
the  arch,  above  the  inscription,  was  a 
dome  or  cupola  of  evergreens  and  flowers 
encircling  the  dates  of  two  memorable 
events,  one  of  these  being  the  bold  and 
judicious  stand  made  by  the  American 
troops,  by  which  the  progress  of  the  Brit- 


ish army  was  arrested  on  the  evening  pre- 
ceding the  battle  of  Princeton ;  the  other 
was  the  date  of  Washington's  glorious 
victory  at  Trenton,  when  nine  hundred 
Hessians  were  made  prisoners,  and  the 
horizon  of  American  affairs  was  illumined 
by  a  radiance  which  never  again  wholly 
forsook  it.  On  the  summit  of  the  arch  a 
large  sun-flower,  as  always  pointing  to  the 
sun,  was  designed  to  express  this  motto, — 
'To  You  ALONE.'  The  ladies  had  ar- 
ranged themselves  on  the  side  of  the 
street,  between  the  arch  and  the  town, 
with  their  daughters  in  front,  to  a  very 
considerable  number,  all  dressed  in  white, 
and  decorated  with  floral  wreaths  and 
chaplets.  Six  of  these  held  baskets  of 
flowers  in  their  hands,  and,  as  soon  as  the 
general  had  passed  under  the  arch,  the 
beautiful  choristers  advanced,  singing  a 
sonnet  composed  for  the  occasion ;  as  they 
sung  the  last  lines  they  strewed  the  flowers 
before  the  general. 

At  Brunswick,  he  was  joined  by  Gov- 
ernor William  Livingston,  of  New  Jersey, 
who  accompanied  him  to  Elizabethtown 
Point.  On  the  road,  the  committee  of 
congress  received  and  attended  him  with 
much  military  parade  to  the  point  where 
he  was  to  embark  for  New  York.  The 
embarkation  took  place  in  a  magnificently- 
decorated  barge,  manned  and  rowed  by 
thirteen  branch  pilots,  attired  in  white. 
There  were  also  other  barges,  filled  with 
eminent  dignitaries  from  all  parts  of  the 
land. 

Arriving  at  New  York,  the  president 
was  received  by  the  governor  of  the  state, 
and  by  an  immense  concourse  of  citizens, 
headed  by  the  military.  Multitudes  of  his 
old  and  faithful  officers  and  fellow-patriots 
pressed  around  him  to  offer  their  congrat- 
ulations, and  to  express  the  joy  which 
glowed  in  their  bosoms  at  seeing  the  man 
in  whom  all  confided,  at  the  head  of  the 
nation's  affairs. 

Thus  it  appears  that  the  president's  first 
arrival  at  the  seat  of  government  was  a 
national  ovation  which  showed,  by  its 
spontaneousness,  enthusiasm,  and  unanim- 
ity, that  all  hearts  and  voices  were  united 


88 


FIRST  ELECTION  OF  A  PRESIDENT. 


in  his  faror.  It  was  an  occasion  which 
excited  the  great  heart  of  the  people  be- 
yond all  powers  of  description ;  the  hand 
of  industry  was  suspended,  and  the  various 
pleasures  of  the  capital  were  centered  in  a 
single  and  universal  enjoyment.  Many 
aged  patriots  were  heard  to  say  that  they 
should  now  die  contented,  having  had  a 
sight  of  the  Father  of  his  Country. 


L  MANSION,   1789. 


The  fourth  of  March  was  the  day  which 
had  been  appointed  for  the  new  national 
government  to  commence  operations,  but 
so  many  impediments  occurred  that  it  was 
not  until  the  thirtieth  of  April  that  this 
took  place. 

Vice-president  Adams  arrived  in  New 
York,  escorted  by  a  troop  of  horse,  on  the 
twenty-first  of  April,  and,  two  days  before 
Washington's  arrival,  took  his  seat  as  the 
constitutional  presiding  officer  of  the 
senate.  On  doing  this,  lie  addressed  that 
body  in  a  dignified  speech  adapted  to  the 
occasion,  and  warmly  eulogistic  of  the 
new-born  republic  and  its  illustrious  chief 
magistrate. 

On  Thursday,  the  thirtieth  of  April, 
1789,  the  ceremony  of  Inaugurating  the 
First  President  of  the  United  States  took 
place  in  New  York,  which  at  that  time 
was  the  federal  capital.  Long  before  the 
hour  arrived,  the  town  swarmed  with 
people;  every  tavern  and  boarding-house 
was  full,  and  private  residences  teemed 
with  guests  and  lodgers.  Many  persons 
are  said  to  have  slept  in  tents  on  'the 
Common.'  The  Hudson  was  studded  with 
boats  bearing  visitors,  and  long  caravans 
of  carts  began  to  arrive  before  daybreak, 
from  Westchester,  Long  Island,  and  the 
Jerseys.  The  ceremony  of  the  day  was 


ushered  in  by  a  salute  fired  from  the  bat- 
tery. This  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and,  even  at  this  early  hour,  the 
streets  were  fast  filling  up.  At  nine,  the 
church  bells  rang  out  a  merry  peal ;  at  ten 
they  summoned  the  worshipers  to  church, 
each  pastor  devoting  the  occasion  to  im- 
ploring Heaven's  blessing  upon  the  nation 
and  the  first  president.  General  Wash- 
ington had  now  been  in  the  city  a  week, 
having  arrived  on  the  twenty-third.  He 
was  living  in  a  private  house,  the  prop- 
erty of  Mr.  Osgood,  on  the  corner  of 
Cherry  street  and  Franklin  square;  but 
his  household  arrangements  had  not  yet 
been  perfected,  as  Mrs.  Washington  did 
not  arrive  for  some  little  time,  remaining 
at  Mount  Vernon  until  affairs  were  in  a 
state  of  readiness  for  her  presence  at  the 
new  presidential  mansion. 

At  eight  o'clock,  on  this  memorable 
morning,  the  sky  was  overcast,  and  the 
appearance  was  that  of  a  gathering  storm. 
Everybody  noticed,  however,  that  the  mo- 
ment the  bells  began  to  ring  the  sky 
cleared,  and  by  the  close  of  divine  service 
the  weather  was  serene  and  beautiful.  At 
noon,  the  procession  that  was  to  conduct 
the  president  to  Federal  hall  assembled 
in  due  style  opposite  his  residence  in 
Cherry  street.  There  were  the  usual  mil- 
itary companies — a  troop  of  horse,  one  or 
two  companies  of  grenadiers,  a  company  of 
Highlanders,  in  kilts, — all  the  chief  mu- 
nicipal officers,  the  congressional  commit- 


PBESIDENTIAL  MANSION,    1876. 

tees,  and  the  new  cabinet, — multitudes  of 
distinguished  citizens  bringing  up  the 
rear.  By  this  assemblage  the  new  presi- 
dent was  escorted  to  Federal  hall,  which 
stood  at  the  head  of  Broad  street,  in  Wall, 


FIRST  ELECTION  OF  A  PRESIDENT. 


b9 


where  the  custom-house  was  subsequently 
built.  The  old  building  had  been  put  in 
repair  at  a  considerable  expense,  but  it 
was  still  so  rickety  that  cautious  persons 
looked  forward  to  the  ceremony  with  un- 
easiness. The  procession  having  arrived, 
and  the  hall  occupied  according  to  the  pro- 
gramme, nothing  remained  but  to  proceed 
with  the  solemn  formalities ;  and,  when  it 
is  remembered  that  there  was  no  precedent 
in  history  for  the  inauguration  of  a  repub- 
lican president,  one  can  not  but  admire  the 
striking  dignity  which  characterized  the 
whole  occasion.  At  the  door  of  the  senate 
chamber,  to  which  the  eyes  of  the  whole 
vast  multitude  were  intensely  directed,  the 
vice-president  met  General  Washington, 
and  with  consummate  but  unaffected  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  said — 

''  Sir,  the  senate  and  house  of  represent- 
atives of  the  United  States  are  ready  to 
attend  you  to  take  the  oath  required  by 
the  Constitution,  which  will  be  adminis- 
tered to  you  by  the  chancellor  of  the  state 
of  New  York." 

"  I  am  ready  to  proceed,"  was  Washing- 
ton's reply,  made  with  his  accustomed 
elegant  dignity. 

The  vice-president  now  led  the  way  to 
the  outside  gallery ;  the  president  fol- 
lowed, with  as  many  of  the  high  function- 
aries as  could  find  room,  and  all  were  pres- 
ently gathered  on  the  balcony  fronting  on 
Wall  street.  Of  the  group,  perhaps  the 
most  striking  person  was  Chancellor  Liv- 
ingston, in  a  full  suit  of  black,  and,  like 
Washington,  one  of  the  finest-looking  men 
anywhere  to  be  seen.  Secretary  Otis  car- 
ried the  Bible  on  a  crimson  cushion,  and 
near  him  were  Generals  Knox  and  St. 
Clair,  Roger  Sherman,  Hamilton,  and 
other  noted  persons  of  revolutionary  fame. 
At  the  proper  moment,  the  chancellor  ad- 
ministered the  oath,  with  great  delibera- 
tion and  emphasis,  to  Washington,  who, 
bowing  down,  seized  the  book,  kissed  it, 
and  exclaimed,  with  closed  eyes  and  much 
emotion — 

"I swear,  so  help  me  God!" 

"It  is  done,"  the  chancellor  declared, 
and,  turning  to  the  crowd  exclaimed, 


"  Long  live  George  Washington,  President 
of  the  United  States  !  " 

This  last-named  declaration,  on  the  part 
of  the  chancellor,  was  in  imitation  of  mo- 
narchical custom.  The  error  of  this  prac- 
tice was,  however,  soon  exposed  and 
abandoned;  but  at  this  time,  the  crowd 
thought  of  nothing  but  the  exciting  solem- 
nity of  the  scene,  and  many  who  demon- 
stratively waved  their  hats  were  too 
overcome  by  emotion  to  join  in  the  huzzas. 

Of  course,  Washington  was  the  observed 
of  all  observers  in  that  mighty  crowd,  and 
his  grandly-commanding  figure  made  this 
both  natural  and  easy,  and  so  too  did  the 
construction  of  the  balcony,  conspicuously 
fronting  the  edifice,  where  the  remarkable 
ceremony  was  performed.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  complete  suit  of  dark  brown  broad- 
cloth, of  American  production,  white  silk 
long  stockings,  silver  shoe-buckles  upon 
his  polished  shoes,  a  steel-hilted  dress 
sword,  and  his  hair  dressed  and  powdered 
according  to  the  style  then  in  vogue,  and 
gathered  up  in  a  bag.  This  attire,  it  may 
be  remarked,  was  Washington's  personal 
choice.  On  the  occasion  of  his  second  in- 
auguration, however,  Washington  was 
dressed  precisely  as  Stuart  has  painted 
him  in  Lord  Lansdowne's  full-length  por- 
trait— in  a  full  suit  of  the  richest  black 
velvet,  with  diamond  knee-buckles,  and 
square  silver  buckles  set  upon  shoes  ja- 
panned with  the  most  scrupulous  neatness, 
black  silk  stockings,  his  shirt  ruffled  at  the 
breast  and  wrists,  a  light  dress-sword;  his 
hair  profusely  powdered,  fully  dressed,  so 
as  to  project  at  the  sides,  and  gathered  be- 
hind in  a  silk  bag,  ornamented  with  a 
large  rose  of  black  ribbon.  He  held  his 
cocked  hat,  which  had  a  large  black  cock- 
ade on  one  side  of  it,  in  his  hand,  while 
standing,  but  laid  it  on  the  table  when  he 
sat  down. 

Washington,  on  taking  the  oath,  as  ad- 
ministered by  Chancellor  Livingston,  is 
said  to  have  laid  his  hand  upon  that  page 
of  the  Bible  containing  the  fiftieth  chapter 
of  Genesis,  opposite  to  which  were  two 
illustrations  of  the  text,  one  being  a  pic- 
ture of  '  The  Blessing  of  Zebulon,'  and  tho 


90 


FIEST  ELECTION  OF  A  PRESIDENT. 


other  of  '  The  Prophecy  of  Issachar.'  That 
memorable  volume,  of  such  peculiar  his- 
torical associations,  now  belongs  to  one  of 
the  masonic  lodges  in  New  York.  Upon 
each  of  the  two  outside  surfaces  of  the  vol- 
ume, there  is  engraved  in  golden  letters  a 
commemorative  record  of  the  interesting 
circumstances  attaching  to  it ;  and  on  the 
inside,  beautifully  written  upon  parch- 
ment, in  ornamental  style,  surmounted  by 
an  engraved  portrait  of  Washington,  is 
the  following  statement : 

'  On  this  Sacred  Volume,  on  the  30th  day 
of  April,  1789,  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
was  administered  to  GEORGE  WASHINGTON 
the  first  President  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  the  oath  to  support  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States.  This  important 
ceremony  was  performed  by  the  Most 
Worshipful  Grand  Master  of  Free  and 
Accepted  Masons  of  the  state  of  New 
York,  the  Honorable  Robert  R  Livings- 
ton, Chancellor  of  the  state.' 

The  inaugural  address  delivered  by 
Washington,  and  which,  like  all  the  early 
inaugurals,  possessed  the  merit  of  brevity, 
was  pronounced  in  the  senate  chamber.  It 
was  considered,  in  those  days,  a  speech  to 
congress  and  not  to  the  people ;  and  both 
houses  felt  it  incumbent  on  them — follow- 
ing the  usage  of  monarchies, — to  present 
replies  to  the  president,  at  his  residence. 

From  the  senate  chamber,  the  president 
was  escorted  to  St.  Paul's  church,  where 
he  heard  an  appropriate  religious  service, 
conducted  by  Dr.  Prevost;  and  thence 
home  to  his  house.  In  the  evening  the 
whole  city  was  one  blaze  of  illumination, 
all  classes  participating  in  this  attractive 


feature  of  the  general  jubilee.  Many  of 
the  illuminations  were  very  beautiful — 
none  more  so  than  those  of  the  French  and 
Spanish  ministers,  who  both  lived  in 
Broadway,  near  the  Bowling  Green ;  and 
the  whole  scene  was  unique,  animated,  and 
enchanting.  General  Washington  him- 
self went  'down  town,'  that  is  to  say, 
toward  the  Battery,  to  see  the  spectacle,  of 
,  which  he  expressed  the  warmest  admira- 
tion ;  returning  about  ten  o'clock  on  foot, 
the  crowd  being  too  dense  for  a  carriage 
to  pass. 

As  the  supreme  head  of  the  nation, 
President  Washington  at  once  endeavored 
to  acquaint  himself  fully  with  the  state  of 
public  affairs,  and  for  this  purpose,  he 
called  upon  those  who  had  been  the  heads 
of  departments  under  the  confederation,  to 
report  to  him  the  situation  of  their  respec- 
tive concerns.  He  also,  having  consulted 
with  his  friends,  adopted  a  sj'Stem  for  the 
order  of  his  own  household,  for  the  regu- 
lation of  his  hours  of  business,  and  of  in- 
tercourse with  those  who,  in  a  formal 
manner,  visited  him  as  the  chief  magis- 
trate of  the  nation.  But  he  publicly  an- 
nounced that  neither  visits  of  business  nor 
of  ceremony  would  be  expected  on  Sunday, 
as  he  wished  to  reserve  that  day  sacredly 
to  himself.  One  of  the  most  important 
and  delicate  of  the  president's  duties  was 
to  fill  those  departments  which  congress  at 
an  early  day  had  established  to  aid  the 
executive  in  the  administration  of  the 
government.  His  judgment  and  prudence 
were  consistently  exhibited  in  this  respect, 
by  his  selecting  such  able  men  for  his 
cabinet. 


X. 

GREATEST  DEFEAT  AND  VICTORY  OF  AMERICAN  ARMS 

THE  INDIAN  WARS.— 1791. 


Headlong  Flight  and  Destruction  of  St.  Clair's  Army,  in  1791,  Before  the  Trained  Warriors  of  "Lit- 
tle Turtle." — This  Mortifying  Disaster  Retrieved  by  Wayne's  Overwhelming  Triumph  in  1794. — Final 
and  Crushing  Blow  Dealt  by  Jackson,  in  1814. — The  Question  of  Power  Between  the  Two  Races  For- 
ever settled  in  Favor  of  the  Whites. — Old  Feuds  Between  the  Races — Ilarmer's  Expedition  to  the 
North-west. — Powerless  in  Ambush  Warfare. — Repeated  and  Bloody  Reverses. — St.  Clair  put  in  Com- 
mand.— Warning  Words  of  Washington. — Sudden  Attack  by  the  Miamis. — Terrible  Slaughter  of  the 
Whites. — Overthrow  of  the  Whole  Campaign. — Washington's  Reception  of  the  News. — His  Appall- 
ing Wrath. — Sketcli  of  St.  Clair's  Conqueror. — His  Fame  at  Home  and  Abroad. — General  Wayne 
Sent  to  the  Field. — Unsuccessfully  Proffers  Peace. — Instantly  Prepares  for  Battle. — Great  Army  of 
Indian  Warriors  — Their  Sagacious  Choice  of  Position. — Desperate  Fury  of  the  Conflict. — Wayne's 
Prowess  Irresistible. — Death  Knell  of  the  Savages. — Their  Confederacy  Shattered. 


"  Nothing  but  lamentable  Bounds  was  heard. 
Nor  aught  was  seen  but  ghastly  views  of  death 
Infectious  horror  ran  from  face  to  face, 
And  pale  despair." 


LL  historians  agree  in  declaring  that  the 
defeat  of  General  St.  Clair,  in  1791,  by 
the  Indians  of  the  north-west  territory, 


92 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS. 


was  the  most  signal  and  disastrous  ever 
sustained  by  the  American  army,  in  its 
battles  with  the  warriors  of  the  forest. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  defeat — the 
news  of  which  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  upon 
the  then  struggling  and  distracted  govern- 
ment,— was  retrieved  by  a  most  complete 
and  decisive  victory,  under  General 
Wayne,  over  these  same  tribes,  collected 
together  in  a  vast  and  powerful  horde,  at 
the  rapids  of  the  Maumee,  in  1794 ;  a  vic- 
tory which,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
subsequent  overwhelming  triumph  of  Gen- 
eral Jackson,  in  his  campaign  against  the 
Creeks,  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
power  of  the  Indian  race  in  North  Amer- 
ica,—  settling  forever  the  long  struggle 
that  had  been  carried  on  between  the  white 
man  and  the  red  man,  in  favor  of  the 
former,  though  the  warlike  propensities  of 
the  savages  occasionally  broke  out  in  sub- 
sequent years,  as  in  1811,  under  Tecum- 
seh;  the  Creek  war,  of  1814,  under 
Weatherford ;  the  terrible  Seminole  cam- 
paign ;  the  Cherokee  contest ;  the  hostili- 
ties of  the  Sacs,  Foxes,  and  Winnebagoes, 
under  Black  Hawk ;  the  renowned  Flor- 
ida war,  of  1835,  under  Micanopy  and  Os- 
ceola;  etc.  These  later  wars  tasked,  to 
the  utmost,  the  military  skill  of  such 
trained  soldiers  as  Jackson,  Harrison, 
Worth,  Harney,  Jessup,  Clinch,  Thomp- 
son, Dade,  Atkinson,  Gaines,  Taylor.  Red 
Jacket,  and  Cornplanter,  were  prominent 
chieftains  in  the  wars  of  the  Senecas. 

In  the  month  of  September,  1790,  Gen- 
eral Harmer  was  intrusted  with  the  import- 
ant duty  of  looking  after  the  fierce  tribes 
on  the  Miami  and  Wabash,  between  whom 
and  the  Kentuckians  there  had  long  waged 
a  relentless  war.  The  general  went  for- 
ward with  a  body  of  three  hundred  and 
twenty  regulars,  who,  being  re-enforced  by 
the  militia  of  Pennsylvania  and  Kentucky, 
formed  a  corps  of  one  thousand  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty-three  men.  The  Indians, 
on  his  approach,  set  fire  to  their  villages  ; 
but  this  was  nothing,  unless  they  could  be 
brought  to  an  engagement.  Harmer, 
however,  instead  of  advancing  himself, 
with  the  main  body,  sent  forward  Colonel 


Hardin,  with  two  hundred  and  ten  men, 
of  whom  only  thirty  were  regulars.  They 
were  attacked ;  the  militia  fled ;  the  others 
were  nearly  cut  off.  The  general  then 
sent  forward  Hardin,  with  three  hundred 
men,  who  speedily  encountered  another 
large  body.  After  a  brave  contest,  in 
which  this  party  lost  nearly  half  their 
number,  they  retreated  on  the  main  body. 
•'Thus  disaster  followed  disaster,  and  the 
nation  became  sore  and  mortified  under 
such  repeated  humiliations. 

One  of  the  last  measures,  therefore, 
adopted  by  the  United  States  congress, 
the  ensuing  year,  1791,  was  to  augment 
the  national  military  force,  to  a  suitable 
degree  of  power,  and  to  place  in  the  hands 
of  President  Washington  more  ample 
means  for  the  protection  of  the  frontier,  as 
the  Indians  on  the  north-west  side  of  the 
Ohio  still  continued  their  hostilities.  A 
new  expedition  against  the  belligerent 
tribes  had,  in  consequence,  been  projected; 
and  General  St.  Clair,  then  governor  of 
the  territory  west  of  the  Ohio,  was  ap- 
pointed commander  of  the  forces  to  be  em- 
ployed. Washington  had  been  deeply 
chagrined  by  the  mortifying  disasters  of 
General  Harmer's  expedition  to  the  Wa- 
bash, resulting  from  Indian  ambushes. 
In  taking  leave,  therefore,  of  his  old  mili- 
tary comrade,  St.  Clair,  he  wished  him 
success  and  honor,  and  added  this  solemn 
warning : 

"  You  have  your  instructions  from  the 
secretary  of  war.  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word, — Be- 
ware of  a  surprise  !  You  know  how  the 
Indians  fight.  I  repeat  it — Beware  of  a 
surprise  !  " 

With  these  warning  words  sounding  in 
his  ear,  fresh  with  Washington's  awful 
emphasis,  St.  Clair  departed. 

On  the  fourth  of  November,  while  the 
main  body  of  St.  Glair's  army  were  en- 
camped in  two  lines  on  rising  ground, 
some  fifteen  miles  south  of  the  Miami  vil- 
lages on  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wa- 
bash, and  the  militia  upon  a  high  flat  on 
the  other  side  of  the  stream,  they  were 
surprised  and  terribly  attacked  by  an  In- 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN  WAES. 


93 


dian  force  which  lay  concealed  in  the 
woods.  General  St.  Glair,  who  was  suffer- 
ing severely  from  gout,  was  unable  to 
mount  his  horse,  and  had  to  be  carried 
about  in  a  litter,  from  -vhich  he  gave  his 
orders  with  discretion  and  the  most  perfect 
coolness.  The  battle  raged  fearfully  for 
nearly  three  hours,  and  after  nearly  half 
of  his  army  had  been  slaughtered,  St.  Glair 
beat  a  headlong  retreat.  Thus  were  all 
the  plans,  hopes  and  labors  of  President 
Washington,  congress,  and  the  cabinet,  in 
reference  to  the  Indian  campaign,  utterly 
and  deplorably  overthrown  in  a  single 
day  !  This  result  is  stated  to  have  arisen 
thus  :  On  the  third  of  November,  St.  Clair 
formed  his  force  into  two  lines ;  the  first, 
under  the  command  of  General  Butler, 
composed  the  right  wing,  and  lay  with  a 
creek  immediately  in  their  front.  The 
left  wing,  commanded  by  Colonel  Darke, 
formed  the  second,  and  lay  with  an  inter- 
val  of  about  seventy  yards  between  them 
and  the  first  line.  The  militia  were  ad- 
vanced beyond  the  creek,  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  in  front.  About  half  an  hour 
before  sunrise  the  next  morning,  just  after 
the  troops  had  been  dismissed  from  the 
parade,  an  unexpected  attack  was  made 
upon  the  militia,  who  fled  in  the  utmost 
confusion,  and  rushing  into  camp  through 
ths  first  line  of  regular  troops,  which  had 


been  formed  the  instant  the  first  gun  was 
discharged,  threw  them  too  into  disorder. 
Such  was  the  panic,  and  so  rapid  and  irreg- 
ular the  flight,  that  the  exertions  of  the 
officers  to  recall  the  men  to  their  senses 
and  to  duty  were  quite  unavailing. 

It  was  soon  perceived  that  the  American 
fire  could  produce,  on  a  concealed  enemy, 
no  considerable  effect,  and  that  the  only 
hope  of  victory  was  in  the  bayonet.  At 
the  head  of  the  second  regiment,  which 
formed  the  left  of  the  left  wing,  Darke 
made  an  impetuous  charge  upon  the 
enemy,  forced  them  from  their  ground 
with  some  loss,  and  drove  them  about  four 
hundred  yards.  He  was  followed  by  that 
whole  wing ;  but  the  want  of  a  sufficient 
number  of  riflemen  to  press  this  advan- 
tage, deprived  him  of  its  benefit,  and,  as 
soon  as  he  gave  over  the  pursuit,  the  In- 
dians renewed  the  attack.  In  the  mean- 
time, General  Butler  was  mortally 


WAYNE'S  DEFEAT  OK  THK  INDIANS. 


94 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS. 


wounded,  the  left  of  the  right  wing  was 
broken,  the  artillerists  almost  to  a  man 
killed,  the  guns  seized,  and  the  camp  pen- 
etrated by  the  enemy.  Orders  were  given 
to  again  charge  with  the  bayonet;  this 
was  done  with  spirit  and  momentary  suc- 
cess, the  Indians  being  driven  out  of  the 
camp,  and  the  artillery  recovered. 

To  save  the  remnant  of  the  army  was 
all  that  now  remained  to  be  done;  and, 
about  half-past  nine  in  the  morning,  Gen- 
eral St.  Clair  ordered  Colonel  Darke,  with 
the  second  regiment,  to  charge  a  body  of 
Indians  who  intercepted  their  retreat,  and 
to  gain  the  road.  Major  Clarke,  with  his 
battalion,  was  directed  to  cover  the  rear. 
These  orders  were  executed,  and  then  a 
disorderly  flight  commenced.  The  pursuit 
was  kept  up  about  four  miles,  when,  fortu- 
nately for  the  surviving  Americans,  the 
victorious  savages,  eager  for  plunder, 
stopped  at  the  camp  of  their  vanquished 
foes,  to  divide  the  spoils.  The  routed 
troops  continued  their  flight  to  Fort  Jef- 
ferson—  some  thirty  miles,  —  throwing 
away  their  arms  along  the  road.  At  this 
place  they  met  the  detached  regiment,  and 
leaving  their  wounded  at  Fort  Jefferson, 
the  army  continued  its  retreat  to  Fort 
Washington,  the  site  of  the  present  city 
of  Cincinnati. 

Poor  St.  Glair's  defeat  has  been  aptly 
paralleled  with  that  of  Braddock.  No 
doubt,  when  he  realized  the  terrible  havoc 
that  had  been  made,  he  thought  sadly  of 
Washington's  parting  words,  "  Beware  of 
a  surprise  !  "  The  manner  in  which  the 
news  of  this  disaster  affected  Washington 
is  thus  described  by  Mr.  Rush  : — 

Towards  the  close  of  a  winter's  day,  in 
December,  an  officer  in  uniform  was  seen 
to  dismount  in  front  of  the  president's 
house  in  Philadelphia,  and,  giving  the 
bridle  to  his  servant,  knock  at  the  door  of 
the  mansion.  Learning  from  the  porter 
that  the  president  was  at  dinner,  he  said 
he  was  on  public  business,  having  dis- 
patches which  he  could  deliver  only  to  the 
commander-in-chief.  A  servant  was  sent 
into  the  dining-room  to  give  the  informa- 
tion to  Mr.  Lear,  the  president's  private 


secretary,  who  left  the  table  and  went  into 
the  hall,  where  the  officer  repeated  what 
he  had  said.  Mr.  Lear  replied  that,  as 
the  president's  secretary,  he  would  take 
charge  of  the  dispatches  and  deliver  them 
at  the  proper  time.  The  officer  made 
answer  that  he  had  just  arrived  from  the 
western  army,  and  his  orders  were  explicit 
to  deliver  them  with  all  promptitude,  and 
'to  the  president  in  person  ;  but  that  he 
would  wait  his  directions.  Mr.  Lear  re- 
turned, and  in  a  whisper  imparted  to  the 
president  what  had  passed.  General 
Washington  rose  from  the  table  and  went 
to  the  officer.  He  was  back  in  a  short 
time,  made  a  word  of  apology  for  his  ab- 
sence, but  no  allusion  to  the  cause  of  it. 
He  had  company  that  day.  Everything 
went  on  as  usual.  Dinner  over,  the  gen- 
tlemen passed  to  the  drawing-room  of  Mrs. 
Washington,  which  was  open  in  the  even- 
ing. The  general  spoke  courteously  to 
every  la"dy  in  the  room,  as  was  his  custom. 
His  hours  were  early,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
all  the  company  had  gone.  Soon  Mrs. 
Washington  left  the  room,  and  the  general 
and  Mr.  Lear  remained.  The  chief  now 
paced  the  room  in  hurried  strides,  and 
without  speaking,  for  several  minutes. 
Then  he  sat  down  on  a  sofa  by  the  fire, 
telling  Mr.  Lear  to  sit  down.  He  rose 
again,  and,  as  he  walked  backward  and 
forward,  Mr.  Lear  saw  a  storm  gathering. 
In  the  agony  of  his  emotion,  he  struck  his 
clenched  hands  with  fearful  force  against 
his  forehead,  and  in  a  paroxysm  of  anguish 
exclaimed — 

"It's  all  over!  St.  Clair's  defeated— 
routed;  the  officers  nearly  all  killed — the 
men  by  wholesale — that  brave  army  cut  to 
pieces — the  rout  complete !  too  shocking  to 
think  of — and  a  surprise  in  the  bargain  ! " 

He  uttered  all  this  with  great  vehe- 
mence. Then  he  paused,  and  walked 
about  the  room  several  times,  agitated,  but 
saying  nothing.  Near  the  door  he  stopped 
short  and  stood  still  a  few  seconds ;  then, 
turning  to  the  secretary,  who  stood  amazed 
at  the  spectacle  of  Washington  in  all  his 
terrors,  the  general,  in  his  wrath,  again 
broke  out,  saying, 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS. 


95 


"  Yes,  sir,  HERE,  in  this  very  room,  on 
this  very  spot,  I  took  leave  of  him;  I 
wished  him  success  and  honor.  '  You 
have  your  instructions,'  I  said,  'from  the 
secretary  of  war;  I  had  a  strict  eye  to 
them,  and  will  add  but  one  word — beware 
of  a  surprise !  I  repeat  it — beware  of  a 
surprise !  You  know  how  the  Indians 
fight  us.'  He  went  off  with  that  as  my 
last  solemn  warning  thrown  into  his  ears. 
And  yet,  to  suffer  that  army  to  be  cut  to 
pieces,  hacked  by  a  surprise — the  very 
thing  I  guarded  him  against !  0  God ! 
O  God !  he's  worse  than  a  murderer ! 
How  can  he  answer  it  to  his  country  ? 
The  blood  of  the  slain  is  upon  him — the 
curse  of  widows  and  orphans — the  curse  of 
heaven !  " 

This  torrent  came  out  in  tone  appalling. 
His  very  frame  shook.  "  It  was  awful  t  " 


said  Mr.  Lear.  More  than  once  he  threw 
his  hands  up  as  he  hurled  imprecations 
upon  St.  Glair.  Mr.  Lear  remained  speech- 
less— awed  into  breathless  silence.  Pres- 
ently the  roused  chief  sat  down  on  the 
sofa  once  more.  He  seemed  conscious  of 
his  passion,  and  uncomfortable.  He  was 
silent;  his  wrath  began  to  subside.  He 
at  length  said,  in  an  altered  voice, 

"  This  must  not  go  beyond  this  room." 
Another  pause  followed — a  longer  one — 
when  he  said,  in  a  tone  quite  low, 

"General  St.  Clair  shall  have  justice. 
I  looked  hastily  through  the  dispatches — 


saw  the  whole  disaster,  but  not  all  the  par- 
ticulars. I  will  hear  him  without  preju- 
dice ;  he  shall  have  full  justice  ;  yes,  long, 
faithful,  and  meritorious  services  have 
their  claims." 

Washington    was    now   perfectly  calm. 
Half  an  hour  had  gone  by ;  the  storm  of 
indignation  and  passion  was  over,  and  no 
sign  of  it  was  afterward  seen  in  his  con- 
duct or  heard  in  his  conversation.     His 
wrath  on  this  occasion  was  perhaps  never 
before  aroused  to  so  great  a  pitch,  except 
when  he  confronted  Lee,  when  the  latter 
was  retreating  at  the  battle  of  Monmouth. 
St.   Clair  was  succeeded  by  the  brave 
General  Wayne,  whose  successes  retrieved 
the  misfortunes  of  his  predecessor,  as  the 
following   stirring   record  will  show.     It 
will  be  interesting,  however,  to  have  some 
account  of  the  character  and  personal  ap- 
pearance   of    Michikiniqua,    or 
"  Little  Turtle,"  the  Missesago 
chief,  who  conquered  St.  Clair, 
for  in  no  recorded  battle  did  the 
sons   of    the    forest    ever    show 
themselves    better   warriors,    or 
achieve   more    renown  at  home 
and  abroad. 

Notwithstanding    his     name, 
Little  Turtle  was  at  this  time  at 
least  six  feet  high,  strong,  mus- 
cular, and  remarkably  dignified 
in  his  manners,  though  of  a  very 
sour   and   morose    countenance, 
and  apparently  very  crafty  and 
subtle.     He    was    the   son  of   a 
Miami  chief,  and  was  forty-five 
years  of   age  when   he  led   his    warriors 
against  poor  St.  Clair.     His  warlike  train- 
ing was  of  that  stern  and  hardening  kind 
which  was  never  omitted  in  his  nation. 

It  was  on  the  banks  of  the  Miami,  or 
Mautnee,  in  1794,  that  General  Anthony 
Wayne,  the  successor  of  St.  Clair  in  the 
command  of  the  American  army  in  the 
Miami  country,  dealt  a  retributive  and 
staggering  blow  to  the  power  of  the  In- 
dians in  that  vast  and  magnificent  region, 
— a  blow  from  which  they  never  recovered. 
Realizing  the  terrible  shock  which  the 
nation  received  by  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair, 


96 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN   WARS. 


the  brave  Wayne — "  mad  Anthony,"  as  he 
was  commonly  called,  on  account  of  his 
reckless  courage, — at  once  made  the  best 
of  his  way  to  the  theater  of  action,  for  it 
was  easy  to  foresee,  what  indeed  immedi- 
ately ensued,  that,  under  the  encourage- 
ment of  the  successes  against  Harmer  and 
St.  Clair,  all  the  treaties  would  be  dis- 


solved, and  a  general  savage  confederacy 
formed  against  the  United  States. 

On  the  eighth  of  August,  1794,  Wayne 
had  reached  the  confluence  of  the  Au 
Glaize  and  the  Miamis  of  the  lakes,  with- 
out opposition.  The  richest  and  most 
extensive  settlements  of  the  western  In- 
dians were  here.  Halting  at  this  place, 
a  few  days,  the  Americans  threw  up  some 
works  of  defense.  A  fort  had  also  been 
built  on  the  St.  Mary,  twenty-four  miles 
in  advance  of  Fort  Recovery. 

Unwilling  to  lose  time,  or  to  be  in  any 
way  outwitted,  Wayne  moved  forward  on 
the  fifteenth  of  August,  and  on  the  six- 
teenth met  his  messenger  returning  from 
the  Indians,  and  bearing  word  from  them, 
that,  if  the  Americans  would  wait  ten  days 
at  Glaize,  they,  the  Indians,  would  decide 
for  peace  or  war.  Wayne's  only  notice  of 
this  evasive  message  was  to  march  straight 
on,  arriving,  on  the  eighteenth,  at  the 
rapids  ;  here  they  halted,  and  labored  the 
next  day  in  erecting  works  for  the  protec- 
tion of  their  baggage.  At  eight,  on  the 
morning  of  the  twentieth,  the  American 
army  moved  down  the  north  bank  of  the 


Maumee ;  Wayne's  legion  was  on  the 
right,  its  flank  covered  by  the  Maumee; 
one  brigade  of  mounted  volunteers  was  on 
the  left,  under  Brigadier-General  Todd; 
and  the  other  was  in  the  rear,  under  Brig- 
adier-General Barbee.  A  selected  battal- 
ion of  mounted  volunteers  moved  in  front 
of  the  legion,  commanded  by  Major  Price, 
who  was  directed  to  keep  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced, so  as  to  give  timely  notice  for  the 
''troops  to  form  in  case  of  action,  it  being 
yet  undetermined  whether  the  Indians 
would  choose  peace  or  war. 

Wayne  says,  in  his  official  dispatch, 
that,  after  advancing  about  five  miles, 
Major  Price's  corps  received  so  severe  a 
fire  from  the  enemy,  who  were  secreted  in 
the  woods  and  high  grass,  as  to  compel 
them  to  retreat.  The  legion  was  immedi- 
ately formed  into  two  lines,  principally  in 
a  close  thick  wood,  which  extended  for 
miles  on  the  left,  and  for  a  very  consider- 
able distance  in  front ;  the  ground  was 
covered  with  old  fallen  timber,  probably 
occasioned  by  a  tornado,  which  rendered  it 
impracticable  for  the  cavalry  to  act  with 
effect,  and  afforded  the  enemy  the  most 
favorable  covert  for  their  mode  of  warfare. 
The  savages  were  formed  in  three  lines, 
within  supporting  distance  of  each  other, 
and  extending  for  nearly  two  miles  at 
right  angles  with  the  river.  Wayne  soon 
discovered,  from  the  weight  of  the  fire  and 
the  extent  of  their  lines,  that  the  enemy 
were  in  full  force  in  front,  in  possession 
of  their  favorite  ground,  and  endeavoring 
to  turn  the  American  left  flank.  He  there- 
fore gave  orders  for  the  second  line  to 
advance  and  support  the  first,  and  directed 
Major-General  Scott  to  gain  and  turn  the 
right  flank  of  the  savages,  with  the  whole 
of  the  mounted  volunteers,  by  a  circuitous 
route;  at  the  same  time,  the  front  line  was 
ordered  to  advance  and  charge  with  trailed 
arms,  and  rouse  the  Indians  from  their 
coverts  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
when  up  to  deliver  a  close  and  well-directed 
fire  on  their  backs,  followed  by  a  brisk 
charge,  so  as  not  to  give  them  time  to 
load  again. 

All  these  orders  were  obeyed  with  spirit 


GREATEST  BATTLES  IN  THE  INDIAN  WARS. 


97 


and  promptitude ;  but  such  was  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  charge  by  the  first  line  of 
infantry,  that  the  Indians  and  Canadian 
militia  and  volunteers  were  driven  from 
their  coverts  in  so  short  a  time,  that, 
although  every  possible  exertion  was  used 


LITTLE  TURTLE. 


by  the  officers  of  the  second  line  of  the 
legion,  and  by  Generals  Scott,  Todd,  and 
Barbee,  of  the  mounted  volunteers,  to  gain 
their  proper  positions,  only  a  part  of  each 
could  get  up  in  season  to  participate  in  the 
action, — the  enemy  being  driven,  in  the 
course  of  one  hour,  more  than  two  miles, 
through  the  thick  woods,  by  less  than  one- 
half  their  numbers.  Thus  did  this  power- 
ful horde  of  savages,  who  had  assumed  to 
dictate  terms  and  throw  down  the  gauntlet 
to  the  American  nation,  abandon  them- 
selves to  flight,  and  flee  in  terror  and  dis- 
may, before  Wayne  and  his  victorious 
army.  They  were  compelled  to  sue  for 
peace  on  the  conqueror's  own  terms ;  their 
7 


confederacy  was  shattered  into  fragments ; 
their  power  was  forever  annihilated.  On 
the  return  of  Wayne  to  Philadelphia,  then 
the  nation's  capital,  there  was  a  cessation 
of  all  business,  as  on  some  great  holida}* ; 
the  military  turned  out  in  legions  to  meet 
him;  the  bells  rang  out  their  merriest 
peals,  cannon  boomed  from  every  hill-top, 
and  the  plaudits  of  the  multitude  attended 
him  at  every  step.  General  Harrison's 
defeat  of  the  Indians  under  Tecumseh,  at 
Tippecauoe,  in  1811,  was  another  victory 
of  similar  brilliancy  and  importance,  de- 
serving of  mention  here. 

It  only  remains  to  add  to  this  chapter, 
General  Jackson's  crowning  achievement 
in  the  work  of  grinding  to  powder  the  mil- 
itary prestige  of  the  Indian  race  in  North 
America.  The  Creeks  and  Seminoles  had 
long  disputed  the  intrusion  of  the  white 
race,  and,  though  dreadfully  cut  to  pieces 
in  the  battles  of  Talluschatches,  Talladega, 
Emuckfaw,  Enotochopco,  and  others,  de- 
termined to  make  one  more  great  and  final 
struggle  in  the  field.  Accordingly,  with 
consummate  sagacity  and  skill,  they  se- 
lected a  position  at  the  great  bend  of  the 
Tallapoosa,  called  by  them  Tohopeka,  and 
by  the  whites  Horseshoe  Bend.  Here, 
strongly  fortified,  were  collected  together 
the  proudest,  fiercest,  most  victorious  war- 
riors, of  all  that  race  and  region.  On  the 
27th  of  March,  1814,  Jackson  advanced 
and  attacked  them  with  tremendous  en- 
ergy, the  troops  leaping  over  the  walls  of 
the  fort,  and  engaging  in  a  hand-to-hand 
combat  with  the  savages,  the  latter  fight- 
ing with  characteristic  fury  and  despera- 
tion. Of  the  nine  hundred  warriors, — the 
flower  of  their  tribes, — who  defended  the 
fort,  seven  hundred  and  fifty  were  killed 
or  drowned ;  for,  seeing  no  chance  of 
escape,  and  scorning  to  surrender,  they 
fought  with  bloody  energy  until  nearly  all 
were  slain. 


XI. 


WHITNEY'S  EXTRAORDINARY  COTTON-GIN  INVEN- 
TION.—1793. 


Amazing  Impetus  Given  to  the  Culture,  Uses  and  Consumption  of  Cotton. — Revolution  in  the  In- 
dustrial Prospects  and  Political  Power  of  the  South.— How  Cotton  Became  "  King." — Its  Relation  to 
the  Great  Themes  and  Events  in  American  History. — Ingratitude  to  Whitney. — His  Brilliant  Change 
of  Fortune  in  Another  Sphere. — Whitney's  Obscure  Circumstances. — His  Early  Mechanical  Genius. 
— Determined  to  Get  an  Education. — Goes  to  the  South  as  a  Teacher. — Change  of  Pursuits. — Be- 
friended by  General  Greene's  Widow. — Amateur  Inventive  Efforts. — Low  State  of  Southern  In- 
dustry.— Objection  to  Cotton-Raising. — 
Mrs.  Greene's  Apt  Suggestion. — Whit- 
ney's Characteristic  Resolve  — Secret  and 
Persevering  Toil. — Exciting  Rumors  as 
to  His  Purpose. — Great  Expectations  En- 
tertained. —  Triumphant  Success.  —  En- 
thusiasm of  the  Cotton-Growers. — His 
Machine  Stolen  from  Him. — Infringe- 
ments upon  His  Patent. — Law-Suits,  but 
no  Redress  for  Him. — His  Pathetic  Let- 
ter to  Fulton. — He  Invents  a  Valuable 
Firearm. — Southern  Strides  in  Wealth. 


"  What  Peter  the  Great  did  to  make  Russia  dominant, 
Eli  Whitney's  invention  of  the  Cotton-Gin  ha*  more  than 
•  qualed  in  its  relation  to  the  progress  and  power  of  the 
United  state*."— I, GBP  MACAULAY. 


RESULTS  OF  THE  COTTON-GIN. 


BEYOND  all  doubt  or  question,  the 
invention  of  the  cotton-gin,  just  at 
the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
was  an  event  which  most  wonder- 
fully accelerated  the  high  career  of 
the  United  States,  in  an  industrial  point  of  view,  and,  indeed,  revolutionized,  hy  an 
extraordinary  impetus,  the  manufactures  and  commerce  of  the  world.  It  tnay  be  re- 
garded, in  a  word,  as  the  first  key  which  was  applied  to  the  unlocking  of  those  won- 
ilrous  natural  capabilities  of  the  new-born  republic,  the  continued  development  of 
whicl  has  given  her  such  a  foremost  place,  in  respect  to  material  and  political 
power,  among  the  nations  of  the  earth.  So  direct  is  its  identity  with  the  facts  and 
causes  which  have  led  to  the  country's  prodigious  progress  during  the  hundred  years 
of  its  national  history,  that  he  who  would  trace  to  their  primary  source — with  even 
ordinary  philosophical  acuteness  of  judgment — those  momentous  events,  whether 
material,  political,  military,  or  social,  which  have  distinguished  the  greater  part  of 
that  century,  may  well  pause  longest  and  take  his  latitude  at  this  point.  Such,  in- 
deed, is  the  great  national  consequence  accorded  by  historians  to  this  machine,  that,  ot 


COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 


the  thousands  upon  thousands  of  inven- 
tions and  discoveries  recorded  in  the 
patent  office  at  Washington,  many  of 
them,  of  course,  of  almost  incalculable 
value,  only  some  half  a  dozen,  or  less, 
are  comprised  in  the  '  chronology  of 
important  dates,'  in  the  New  American 
Cyclopedia, — that  marvelous  portrayal  of 
man  and  civilization  during  the  known 
ages.  First  among  the  triumphs  of  Amer- 
ican ingenuity  thus  made  conspicuously 
historical,  is  the  invention  and  introduc- 
tion of  the  cotton-gin,  in  1793,  which  is 
the  subject  of  this  article.  That  it  should 
have  a  place  among  the  few  of  its  kind 
capable  of  coming  within  the  plan  and 
scope  of  this  volume,  will  be  at  once  ap- 
parent. 

Before  entering  into  the  more  elaborate 
details  pertaining  to  this  remarkable  ma- 
chine and  its  bearing  upon  American 
industry  and  commerce,  it  may  be  useful 
to  give,  in  the  first  place,  a  sketch  in  brief 
of  the  career  of  Eli  Whitney,  whose  genius 
gave  to  his  country,  and  to  mankind,  this 
great  boon.  At  an  early  age,  he  gave  in- 
dications of  that  mechanical  and  inventive 
talent,  for  which  he  was  afterwards  so 
greatly  celebrated.  His  father  was  a 
farmer  in  Westborough,  Massachusetts,  a 
village  where  only  the  ordinary  advantages 
of  a  common-school  education  were  availa- 
ble. But  Mr.  Whitney  was  desirous  of 
the  benefits  of  a  more  complete  course  of 
instruction,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three 
entered  the  college  in  New  Haven.  He 
received  the  honors  of  this  institution  in 
1792,  and  soon  after  went  to  Georgia,  in 
the  expectation  of  opening  a  private 
school,  and  devoting  himself  to  that  profes- 
sion. In  this  expectation  he  was  disap- 
pointed, for,  on  arriving  at  the  place  of  his 
destination,  he  was  informed  that  another 
tutor  was  already  filling  the  station  he  ex- 
pected to  occupy. 

Having  traveled  from  the  north,  to  Sa- 
vannah, in  company  with  Mrs.  Greene,  the 
widow  of  the  revolutionary  general  and 
hero  of  that  name,  he  received  from  that 
lady  a  courteous  invitation  to  make  her 
house  his  home,  while  engaged  in  his 


course  of  studies  preparatory  to  entering 
the  legal  profession.  This  most  favorable 
offer,  so  timely  in  view  of  his  shattered 
health  and  scanty  means,  he  gratefully 
availed  himself  of. 

It  was  on  the  occasion  of  a  social  gath- 
ering of  some  neighbors  and  others,  one 
afternoon,  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Greene, 
— a  party  including  several  planters  of 
distinction,  a  few  of  whom  had  served  as 
officers  under  General  Greene's  command, 
— that  Whitney  first  resolved  to  rouse  his 
genius  to  its  utmost  accomplishment. 
Among  other  remarks  made  by  the  gentle- 
men present,  on  the  occasion  referred  to, 
was  one  in  regard  to  the  depressed  condi- 
tion of  the  agricultural  interests  of  Geor- 
gia, namely,  that  since  all  the  lands  in 
that  region,  not  suitable  for  the  cultivation 
of  rice,  were  eminently  favorable  for  the 
production  of  heavy  cotton-crops,  it  was 
exceedingly  to  be  regretted  that  no  means 
existed  of  cleansing  the  green  seed-cotton, 
or  of  separating  it  from  its  seed,  in  a 
manner  sufficiently  thorough  to  make  it 
profitable, — it  being  almost  useless,  in  the 
absence  of  such  a  method  or  contrivance, 
to  undertake  to  grow  cotton-crops  for  sale, 
because  only  a  pound  of  this  green  seed- 
cotton  could  be  cleaned  and  made  mer- 
chantable, per  day,  by  a  single  laborer, 
and  the  price  obtainable  for  it,  when  thug 
prepared,  was  but  a  few  cents  per  pound. 

In  response  to  these  suggestions,  Mrs. 
Greene,  with  true  womanly  perceptions, 
and  knowing  Whitney's  ingenious  turn  of 
mind  in  the  sphere  of  mechanics,  naively 
remarked,  "  Well,  gentlemen,  apply  to  my 
young  friend,  Mr.  Whitney, — he  can  make 
anything ; "  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the 
word,  she  led  them  into  the  room  where 
her  tambour  or  embroidery-frame  was 
kept,  together  with  some  other  ingenious 
contrivances,  and  exhibited  them  to  the 
company  as  evidences  of  Whitney's  sin- 
gular skill.  On  being  introduced  to  these 
gentlemen,  and  entering  into  conversation 
with  them  on  the  subject,  Mr.  Whitney 
was  obliged  to  inform  them  that  he  had 
never  seen  cotton  nor  cotton-seed  in  his 
life! 


COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 


101 


In  a  few  months,  he  had  advanced  so 
far  and  so  successfully  with  his  machine, 
as  to  leave  no  doubt  of  his  having  achieved 
a  complete  triumph.  In  acknowledgment 
of  Mrs.  Greene's  many  and  valued  atten- 
tions to  him  during  his  labors,  and  her 
steadfast  interest  in  his  fortunes,  the  grat- 
ifying privilege  was  accorded  her,  on  a 
day  duly  appointed,  of  exhibiting  to  an 
invited  assembly  of  guests,  principally 
planters,  a  model  of  the  saw-gin  that  was 
to  produce  sucli  a  mighty  change.  Their 
astonishment  was  almost  unbounded, 
when,  on  examining  the  principle  and 
working  of  the  instrument,  they  found 
that  more  cotton  could  be  separated  from 
the  seed  in  one  day  by  the  labor  of  a  single 
hand,  than  could  be  done,  in  the  usual 
manner,  in  many  months.  Enthusiasm 
over  such  a  result,  and  in  view  of  such  a 
prospect,  was  very  natural. 

The  report  of  Mr.  Whitney's  invention 
spread  very  rapidly  throughout  the  South, 
exciting  intense  interest,  and  the  planters 
in  especial  were  eager  to  see  a  machine 
that  promised  such  incalculable  benefits  to 
themselves  and  to  the  nation.  For  a  time, 
however,  Whitney  declined  showing  the 
gin,  as  it  was  not  entirely  perfected,  and 
because  it  might  be  imitated  by  others, 
and  he  be  deprived  in  that  way  of  his 
right  to  a  patent.  But,  so  great  was  the 
excitement  to  which  the  people  had  been 
wrought  up,  and  so  tempting  was  the 
chance  which  presented  itself  to  the  un- 
principled, to  appropriate  to  themselves 
the  fruits  of  other  men's  toils,  that  the 
building  in  which  Whitney  carried  on  his 
labors  was  actually  broken  into,  one  night, 
by  a  party  of  lawless  individuals,  and  the 
instrument  secretly  carried  off.  Thus  it 
was  that  several  machines  were  constructed 
on  the  basis  of  Whitney's  invention,  and 
indeed  varying  but  little  from  the  original, 
though  it  was  artfully  attempted  to  have 
the  deviation  sufficiently  obvious  to  escape 
the  penalties  of  imitation. 

It  may  well  be  supposed  that  the  vari- 
ous lawsuits  growing  out  of  the  infringe- 
ments upon  his  rights,  was  an  exhausting 
draft  upon  Mr.  Whitney's  funds.  But,  in 


addition  to  this  drawback  upon  his  enter- 
prise,   there    befell    him    the    successive 
calamities     of     prolonged     sickness,    the 
destruction   of   his   manufacturing   estab- 
lishment by  fire,  and,  worse  than  all,  the 
assertion  on  the  part  of  certain  unfriendly 
persons,  that  the  use  of  the  machine  ought 
to   be    abandoned,   because  it  greatly  in- 
jured the  fiber  of  the  cotton.     The   testi- 
mony of  some  of  the  British  manufacturers 
was  industriously  circulated,  to  the  effect 
that  the  old  roller-gin,  which  ground  the 
seed  to  impalpability,  was  preferable    to 
that  which  separated  the  seed  from  the 
staple,  at  the  sacrifice  of  its  quality !   And 
here  it  may  be  of  interest  to  state,  that,  in 
order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  separat- 
ing the  seed  from  the  wool  by  hand,   a 
rude  hand-mill,   or  roller-gin,  was  at  an 
early  period  substituted,  in  some  parts  of 
India  and  China,  by  which  from  forty  to 
sixty-five   pounds   could  be  cleaned  in  a 
day.     After  this,  the  cotton  was  further 
cleaned  from  dirt  and  knots  by  'Lowing.' 
A  large  bow  being  placed  in  a  heap  of 
cotton,  the  string  was  made  to  vibrate  pow- 
erfully, thus  dispersing  and  cleaning  the 
heap.     These  means,   employed  from  re- 
mote times  in  eastern  countries,  were  also 
formerly     used    by     American     growers. 
Much  of  the  sea-island  cotton  is  still  sepa- 
rated from  its  seeds  by  rollers  constructed 
on  a  large  scale,  and   worked  by  horses, 
steam,    or   water.      These    rollers   are   of 
wood,  and  revolve  rapidly  in  contact  with 
each  other ;  as  they  do  so,  a  sort  of  comb 
with  iron   teeth   acts  on  the  cotton  as  it 
passes   between    them,  and   detaches  the 
seeds,  which  flj-  off  like  sparks  in  all  direc- 
tions.    Particles  of  seeds  which  escape  and 
pass  through  with  the  cotton,  are  removed 
by  hand.     The    cotton    is    then    whisked 
about  in  a  light  wheel,  and,   when   well 
winnowed,  it  is  conveyed  to  the  packing- 
house, and  forced  into  bags  by  means  of 
screws,  until  each  bag  contains  the  requi- 
site number  of  pounds.     But  short-stapled 
cotton  cannot  be  properly  cleaned  by  this 
process  ;  the  seeds  are  so  firmly  attached 
to  the  wool,  that  a  more  powerful  machine 
is  needed, — and  here  the  utilty  of  the  saw- 


102 


COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 


gin  over  the  roller-contrivance  is  manifest. 
The  cotton  is  put  into  a  long  and  narrow 
hopper,  one  side  of  which  is  formed  by  a 
grating  of  strong  parallel  wires,  one-eighth 
of  an  inch  apart.  Close  to  the  hopper  is  a 
roller  set  with  circular  saws,  an  inch  and  a 
half  apart.  These,  as  they  revolve,  pass 
within  the  grating  of  the  hopper  to  a  cer- 
tain depth,  and  seize  by  their  teeth  on  the 
locks  of  cotton,  dragging  them  through  the 
wires,  which  are  not  wide  enough  apart  to 
allow  the  seeds  to  pass  also.  The  cotton 
is  afterwards  swept  from  the  saws  b}'  a 
revolving  cylindrical  brush.  Thus  the 
separation  is  effected  in  a  cheap,  easy,  and 
rapid  manner.  At  first,  Whitney  used 
bent  wires  or  teeth,  like  those  of  the 
common  card,  but  much  larger  and 
stronger,  and  these  were  placed  in  rows  on 
a  revolving  cylinder.  The  cotton  was 
separated  from  this  cylinder  by  a  frame  of 
parallel  wires;  as  the  cylinder  revolved, 
the  teeth  extending  through  the  wire- 
frame caught  the  cotton  and  drew  it 
through  the  grating,  but  the  seeds  being 
too  large  to  pass  between  the  wires,  were 
of  course  separated  from  the  fiber.  These 
teeth,  however,  being  found  too  weak  to 
pull  the  cotton  from  the  seed  without  be- 
coming bent  or  broken,  Whitney  substi- 
tuted a  circular  saw  in  their  place.  The 
teeth  of  the  saw  being  large,  and  shaped 
like  the  beak  of  a  bird,  had  more  strength 
and  were  equally  effective. 

So  serious  an  objection  as  that  brought 
by  the  British  manufacturers,  namely,  that 
the  operation  of  this  machine  injured  the 
quality  of  the  cotton,  was  a  most  disheart- 
ening one  to  Mr.  Whitney  and  his  part- 
ner, Mr.  Miller,  for,  on  its  truth  or  falsity, 
their  fortune  and  fate  depended.  For  a 
time,  the  process  of  patent  ginning  was 
quite  at  a  stand ;  and,  indeed,  little  was 
heard  of  it  by  the  originators,  except  the 
condolence  of  a  few  real  friends,  who  ex- 
pressed their  regret  that  so  promising  an 
invention  had  entirely  failed.  Of  the  in- 
ventor's state  of  mind,  as  well  as  the  con- 
dition of  his  purse,  at  this  time,  some  idea 
may  be  formed  from  a  letter  written  by 
Whitney,  in  the  autumn  of  1797,  in  which 


he  says :  '  The  extreme  embarrassments 
which  have  for  a  long  time  been  accumu- 
lating upon  me  are  now  become  so  great 
that  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  strug- 
gle against  them  many  days  longer.  It 
has  required  my  utmost  exertions  to  exist) 


without  making  the  least  progress  in  our 
business.  I  have  labored  hard  against  the 
strong  current  of  disappointment,  which 
has  been  threatening  to  carry  us  down  the 
cataract ;  but  I  have  labored  with  a  shat- 
tered oar,  and  struggled  in  vain,  unless 
some  speedy  relief  is  obtained.  Life  is 
but  short,  at  best,  and  six  or  seven  yeara 
out  of  the  midst  of  it  is,  to  him  who  makes 
it,  an  immense  sacrifice.  My  most  unre- 
mitted  attention  has  been  directed  to  our 
business.  I  have  sacrificed  to  it  other 
objects,  from  which,  before  this  time,  I 
might  certainly  have  gained  twenty  or 
thirty  thousand  dollars.  My  whole  pros- 
pects have  been  embarked  in  it,  with  the 
expectation  that  I  should,  before  this  time, 
have  realized  something  from  it.'  Against 
all  opposition,  the  machine  finally  became 
appreciated  according  to  its  merits,  and, 
though  the  country  was  flooded  with  imi- 
tations,— against  the  manufacturers  of 
which,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  to 
obtain  any  redress  or  protection  in  the 
courts  of  law, — a  large  demand  set  in,  and 


COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 


103 


Whitney's  golden  visions  appeared  likely 
to  be  realized. 

At  the  suggestion  made  to  them  by 
some  of  their  business  friends,  Miller  and 
Whitney  were  induced,  in  view  of  the 
public  benefit  that  would  accrue  to  the 
cotton-growing  states,  by  the  general  and 
inexpensive  introduction  of  the  saw-gin,  to 
offer  the  exclusive  disposal  of  the  machine 
in  South  Carolina  to  the  legislature  of 
that  state,  which  offer  was  finally  accepted; 
the  sum  paid  to  the  inventors,  for  this 
privilege,  being  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
Though  this  sum  was  only  one-half  of  that 
which  had  originally  been  fixed  upon  by 
the  patentees,  it  seems  to  have  given  quite 
a  zest  to  Mr.  Whitney's  feelings  and  an- 
ticipations, for  he  wrote  in  relation  to  the 
new  arrangement :  '  The  use  of  the  machine 
here  (in  South  Carolina)  is  amazingly  ex- 
tensive, and  the  value  of  it  beyond  all 
calculation.  It  may,  without  exaggera- 
tion, be  said  to  have  raised  the  value  of 
seven-eighths  of  all  the  three  southern 
states  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  per  cent. 
We  get  but  a  song  for  it  in  comparison 
with  the  worth  of  the  thing;  but  it  is  se- 
curing something.  It  will  enable  Miller 
and  Whitney  to  pay  all  their  debts,  and 
divide  something  between  them.  It  es- 
tablishes a  precedent  that  will  be  valuable 
as  respects  our  collections  in  other  states, 
and  I  think  there  is  now  a  fair  prospect 
that  I  shall  in  the  event  realize  property 
enough  to  render  me  comfortable,  and,  in 
some  measure,  independent.'  It  was  not, 
however,  without  much  trouble  and  litiga- 
tion, that  Whitney  realized  the  fulfillment 
of  this  contract. 

But  the  expense  involved  in  numerous 
suits  at  law  against  the  encroachers  upon 
his  patent,  was  more  than  the  profits 
yielded  by  the  sales,  and  these  struggles 
and  expenditures,  and  constantly-recurring 
discouragements,  sent  Mr.  Miller  to  a  pre- 
mature grave,  at  the  close  of  1803.  In  the 
year  1812,  Mr.  Whitney  applied  to  con- 
gress for  a  renewal  of  his  patent,  in  the 
hope  of  still  receiving  some  substantial 
benefit  from  his  invention.  But  the 
southern  delegation  generally  —  though 


with  some  honorable  exceptions — were  op- 
posed to  it ;  which  was  of  course  the  more 
unexpected,  as  well  as  wounding,  in  view 
of  the  immense  advantage  of  the  machine 
to  that  part  of  the  United  States.  In 
regard  to  this  last-mentioned  point,  no  tes- 
timony could  be  more  weighty  or  emphatic 
in  the  affirmative  than  that  by  Judge 
Johnson,  an  eminent  South  Carolinian, 
and,  at  the  time  of  speaking,  a  judge  of 
the  United  States  supreme  court : — '  The 
whole  interior  of  the  southern  states  (these 
are  the  words  of  Judge  Johnson,  as  judi- 
cially uttered)  was  languishing,  and  its 
inhabitants  emigrating  for  want  of  some 
object  to  engage  their  attention,  and  em- 
ploy their  industry,  when  the  invention  of 
this  machine  at  once  opened  views  to  them 
which  set  the  whole  country  in  active 
motion.  From  childhood  to  age,  it  has 
presented  to  us  a  lucrative  employment. 
Individuals  who  were  depressed  with  pov- 
erty, and  sunk  in  idleness,  have  suddenly 
risen  to  wealth  and  respectability.  Our 
debts  have  been  paid  off.  Our  capitals 
have  increased,  and  our  lands  trebled 
themselves  in  value.  We  cannot  express 
the  weight  of  the  obligation  which  the 
country  owes  to  this  invention.  The  ex- 
tent of  it  cannot  now  be  seen.  Some  faint 
presentiment  may  be  formed  from  the  re- 
flection that  cotton  is  rapidly  supplanting 
wool,  flax,  silk,  and  even  furs,  in  manufac- 
tures, and  may  one  day  profitably  supply 
the  use  of  specie  in  our  East  India  trade. 
Our  sister  states  also  participate  in  the 
benefits  of  this  invention ;  for,  beside  af- 
fording the  raw  material  for  their  manu- 
facturers, the  bulkiness  and  quantity  of 
the  article  afford  a  valuable  employment 
for  their  shipping.' 

Such  was  the  testimony  borne  by  the 
highest  possible  authority,  in  regard  to 
the  wonderful  value  and  effect  of  this  in- 
vention. And  yet,  though  full  a  dozen 
years  had  elapsed  since  Whitney  had 
staked  his  all  upon  the  machine,  and  was 
even  now  pleading  for  redress  against  the 
piracies  committed  upon  his  rights  and 
property,  he  was  actually  a  poor  man, 
struggling  against  remorseless  fate.  Mr. 


104 


COTTON-GIN  INVENTION. 


Whitney,  in  a  letter  almost  pathetic  in  its 
rehearsal  of  his  wrongs,  addressed  to 
Robert  Fulton,  the  inventor  of  the  first 
successful  steamboat,  remarks,  that  'the 
difficulties  with  which  he  had  to  contend 
originated,  principally,  in  the  want  of  a 
disposition  in  mankind  to  do  justice.  The 
invention  was  new  and  distinct  from  every 
other ;  it  stood  alone.  It  was  not  inter- 
woven with  anything  before  known ;  and 
it  can  seldom  happen  that  an  invention  is 
so  strongly  marked,  and  can  be  so  clearly 
and  specifically  identified ;  and  I  have 
always  believed  that  I  should  have  had  no 
difficulty  in  causing  my  rights  to  be  re- 
spected, if  it  had  been  less  valuable,  and 
been  used  only  by  a  small  portion  of  the 
community.  But  the  use  of  this  machine 
being  immensely  profitable  to  almost  every 
planter  in  the  cotton  districts,  all  were  in- 
terested in  trespassing  upon  the  patent 
right,  and  each  kept  the  other  in  counte- 
nance. Demagogues  made  themselves 
popular  by  misrepresentation  and  un- 
founded clamors,  both  against  the  right, 
and  the  law  made  for  its  protection. 
Hence  there  arose  associations  and  combi- 
nations to  oppose  both.  At  one  time,  few 
men  in  Georgia  dared  to  come  into  court 
and  testify  to  the  most  simple  facts  within 
their  knowledge,  relative  to  the  use  of  the 
machine.  In  one  instance,  I  had  great 


difficulty  in  proving  that  the  machine  had 
been  used  in  Georgia,  although,  at  the 
same  moment,  there  were  three  separate 
sets  of  this  machinery  in  motion  within 
fifty  yards  of  the  building  in  which  the 
court  sat,  and  all  so  near  that  the  rattling 
of  the  wheels  was  distinctly  heard  on  the 
steps  of  the  court-house.'  Surely,  few 
men  of  genius  have  rendered  so  great  ben- 
efits to  their  country,  by  means  of  an  in- 
vention, who  have  been  so  heartlessly 
treated  and  so  poorly  remunerated.  De- 
spairing of  ever  realizing  an  adequate 
return,  therefore,  for  his  cotton-gin,  "Whit- 
ney applied  his  inventive  skill  to  the  im- 
proved manufacture  of  firearms,  in  which 
he  was  very  successful,  and,  having  ob- 
tained valuable  contracts  from  the  govern- 
ment for  his  improved  muskets,  he 
ultimately  acquired  a  fortune, — a  strange 
but  most  deserved  sequel  to  his  hitherto 
checkered  career. 

The  progress  and  value  of  the  cotton 
production  in  the  United  States,  under  the 
impetus  given  to  it  by  Whitney's  inven- 
tion, may  be  characterized  as  simply 
prodigious  ;  and,  in  the  mind  of  the  philo- 
sophic statesman  and  student,  the  story  of 
the  cotton-gin  will  forever  weave  itself, 
most  intimately  and  wonderfully,  with 
those  great  themes  and  events  which  make 
up  the  nation's  history. 


XII. 

THE   FAMOUS   WHISKEY    INSURRECTION   IN   PENNSYL- 
VANIA.—1794. 


Violent  Resistance  to  the  United  States  Excise  Laws. — Monster  Meetings  and  Inflammatory  Appeals 
— Officials  and  Loyal  Citizens  Whipped,  Branded,  Tarred,  and  Feathered. — Intense  Excitement  in  all 
the  States.— Washington  Declares  that  the  Union  is  in  Peril  and  Heads  an  Army  to  Meet  the  Crisis. 
— Precipitate  Flight  of  the  Armed  Rebels. — Congressional  Tax  on  Spirits.— Cry  of  "  Tyranny  !  "  from 
Distillers. — Western  Pennsylvania  in  a  Blaze. — Extent  of  her  Whiskey  Interests. — Ambitious  Politi- 
cians at  Work. — A  Revolt  Incited  by  Them.— Bradford  the  Chief  Desperado.— Reign  of  Terror 
Inaugurated.— Tax-Collectors  Roughly  Handled. — The  Incendiary's  Torch.—"  Tom  the  Tinker's  " 
Ruffianism  — Fury  of  the  Factionists.— Firm  Courage  of  Loyal  Men. — Perplexity  of  the  United  States 
Government. — Presidential  Proclamation. — Law  and  Order  to  be  Maintained. — Troops  Summoned 
into  Service. — Prompt  and  Patriotic  Response  — The  Olive  Branch  vs.  the  Sword. — Bradford  Scorns 
Conciliation. — Washington's  Mind  Made  Up.— Prevents  the  Effusion  of  Blood. 


**  Here's  to  your  fery  goot  health, 
And  tamn  ta  whusky  duty  1  "— SONG  or  THl  TIMJIS. 


HE  year  1794  is  distinguished  in  American  history  by  a  remark- 
able revolt  among  a  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  Pennsylvania, 
and  which  is  known  as  the  Whiskey  Insurrection.  In 
1791,  congress  had  enacted  laws  laying  excise  duties  upon 
spirits  distilled  within  the  United  States.  This  tax  excited 
great  and  general  opposition,  but  nowhere  else  was  such  vio- 
lence exhibited  in  resisting  the  execution  of  the  law,  as  in  the 
western  counties  of  Pennsylvania,  where  the  crops  of  grain 
were  so  over-abundant,  that,  in  the  absence  of  an  adequate 
market  for  its  sale,  an  immense  quantity  of  the  cereal  was 
distilled  into  whiskey, — the  far-famed  "  Monongahela,"  so 
called  from  the  name  of  the  principal  river  of  the  region  where 
the  manufacture  was  carried  on.  It  was  insisted  upon,  by 
these  people,  that  an  article  produced  so  exclusively,  by  an 

CAUSES  OF  THE  WHISKEY  IN-  .  -  J  J 

SUBKECTION  IN  PENH.  isolated  community,  as  their  sole  and  necessary  dependence, 
ought  not  to  be  taxed  for  the  support  of  the  federal  government ;  and  this  opinion 
they  adhered  to  —  as  the  following  pages  will  be  found  to  show  —  with  a  tenacity 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  notwithstanding  the  day  of  temperance  societies  had  not 
then  dawned. 

Public  meetings  were  held  in  all  the  chief  towns,  at  which  the  action  of  congress 
was  loudly  denounced  as  oppression  to  be  battled  against  to  the  very  last  extremity ; 


106 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSUEREC1ION 


declaring,  too,  i.iat  any 
person  who  had  accepted 
or  might  accept  an  office 
under  government,  in  or- 
der to  carry  the  law  into 
effect,  should  be  regarded 
as  an  enemy  of  his  country, 
to  be  treated  with  contempt 
and  total  non-intercourse, 
official  and  personal.  The 
federal  government  was 
scoffed  at,  its  coercive 
authority  disavowed;  thus., 
with  the  motto,  "Liberty 
and  No  Excise  !  "  the  ball 
of  rebellion  rolled  on. 

It  was  at  this  stage  in 
the  progress  of  affairs,  and 
<  only  one  day  preceding  the 
3  assembling  of  an  import- 
tj  ant    meeting    of    malcon- 
|  tents   of    Pittsburg,    that 
£  the  tax  collector  for  the 
5  counties  of  Alleghany  and 
I  Washington  made  his  ap- 
S  pearance.     Aware    of    his 
i  business,  a  party  of  men, 
g  armed  and  disguised,  way- 
•"  laid   him    at   a   place    on 
I  Pigeon  Creek,  in  Washing- 
sj  ton  county,  seized,  tarred 
§  and  feathered  him,  cut  off 
q  his  hair,  and  deprived  him 
*  of  his  horse,  obliging  him 
to  decamp  on  foot  in  that 
ludicrous  and  painful  con- 
dition.    In  attempting  to 
serve  legal  processes  upon 
the  perpetrators  of  this  out- 
rage, the  marshal's  deputy 
was  also  seized,  whipped,  * 
tarred  and  feathered ;  and, 
after  havin  g  his  money  and 
horse  taken  from  him,  the 
ruffians  blindfolded  and  led 
him  into  the  depths  of  the 
forest,  where  he  was  tied 
and  left  to  his  fate.     He 
was  fortunately  discovered 
in  season,  and  rescued,  by 
some  friends. 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION. 


107 


Not  long  after,  a  person  of  the  name  of 
Roseberry  underwent  the  humiliating  pun- 
ishment of  tarring  and  feathering,  with 
some  attendant  aggravations,  for  having 
in  conversation  hazarded  the  very  natural 
and  just,  but  unpalatable  remark,  that  the 
inhabitants  of  a  county  could  not  reasona- 
bly expect  protection  from  a  government 
whose  laws  they  so  strenuously  opposed. 
So  great,  too,  was  the  audacity  of  the  per- 
petrators of  these  outrages,  that  an  armed 
banditti  of  them  ventured  to  seize  and 
carry  off  two  persons  who  were  witnesses 
against  the  rioters  in  the  case  of  Wilson, 
in  order  to  prevent  their  giving  testimony 
in  a  court  then  sitting,  or  about  to  sit. 

On  the  part  of  the  executive,  such  open 
defiance  of  the  laws,  and  of  the  authority 
of  the  government,  was  believed  to  imperi- 
ously require  that  the  strength  and  effi- 
ciency of  those  laws  should  be  tried,  by 
the  governing  power.  Accordingly,  Wash- 
ington issued  his  proclamation,  emphati- 
cally condemning  the  lawless  acts  and  pro- 
ceedings, warning  all  to  return  at  once  to 
their  allegiance,  and  assuring  them  that 
the  laws  should  be  executed  at  any  hazard. 
Against  the  leaders  in  some  of  the  out- 
rages which  had  been  committed,  bills  of 
indictment  were  found  in  a  court  of  the 
United  States,  upon  which  process  was 
directed  to  issue,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
process  was  also  issued  against  a  great 
number  of  non-complying  distillers. 

This  proclamation  not  producing  the 
desired  effect,  President  Washington  next 
endeavored  to  prevent  the  necessity  of 
having  recourse  to  active  military  meas- 
ures, by  making  it  the  interest  of  the  dis- 
tillers to  pay  the  duty.  To  this  end,  in 
addition  to  the  prosecutions  instituted 
against  delinquents,  the  spirits  distilled  in 
the  counties  opposing  the  law  were  ordered 
to  be  seized  on  their  way  to  market,  by 
the  officers  of  the  revenue,  and  the  con- 
tractors for  the  army  were  directed  to 
purchase  only  the  spirits  on  which  the 
duties  had  been  paid.  But,  whatever  were 
the  inclinations  of  the  distillers— or  some 
of  them, — the  fear  of  an  infuriated  popu- 
lace prevented  a  compliance  with  these 


orders ;  and  the  factionists  continued  to 
take  encouragement  from  the  lenity  of  the 
executive,  in  the  expectation  of  ultimate 
success.  By  violent  threats  they  still 
kept  the  marshal  from  serving  his  precepts, 
committed  numerous  outrages  upon  the 
friends  of  government,  and  perfected  their 
organization  into  military  bands,  to  resist 
any  force  that  might  be  sent  to  subject 
them  to  the  laws.  They  styled  their  acts, 
"  mendiny  the  still." 

It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  this  inflamed 
state  of  the  public  mind  was  greatly  ag- 
gravated by  the  ambitious  designs  and 
intemperate  speeches  of  a  few  leading 
men.  Conspicuous  among  the  friends  of 
the  malcontent^  were  Bradford,  Marshall, 
Smilie,  Brackenridge,  Husbands,  Findley, 
and  Gallatin.  The  first-named,  David 
Bradford,  was  the  chief  agitator,  and  led 
in  person  the  desperate  bands,  in  their 
career  of  violence.  He  was  an  old  settler 
in  Washington  county,  had  accumulated  a 
large  fortune,  and,  being  bold  and  unscru- 
pulous in  his  politics,  wielded  a  powerful 
influence  over  a  certain  class.  Those  asso- 
ciated with  him  were  men  of  decided  abil- 
ity, being  of  Scotch  or  Irish  birth,  and 
possessing  their  dominant  characteristics 
of  nationality. 

In  the  early  part  of  1794,  the  hostility 
of  the  law-breakers  seemed  to  become  more 
implacable  and  demonstrative.  William 
Richmond,  who  had  given  information 
against  some  of  the  rioters,  in  the  affair 
of  Wilson,  had  his  barn  burnt,  with  all  its 
valuable  contents ;  and  the  same  thing 
happened  to  Robert  Shawan,  a  distiller, 
who  had  been  among  the  first  to  comply 
with  the  law,  and  who  had  always  spoken 
favorably  of  it.  These  instances  were 
multiplied.  The  law-abiding  inhabitants 
were  dogged  and  pursued  by  disorderly 
persons,  their  houses  and  distilleries 
broken  into,  property  destroyed,  conflagra- 
tions kindled,  machinery  disabled,  life 
threatened. 

June  being  the  month  for  receiving  an- 
nual entries  for  stills,  endeavors  were  used 
to  open  offices  in  Westmoreland  and 
Washington,  where  it  had  hitherto  been 


108 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION. 


found  impracticable.  With  much  pains 
and  difficulty,  places  were  at  last  procured 
for  the  purpose. 

That  in  Westmoreland  was  repeatedly 
attacked  by  armed  men,  in  the  night,  who 
frequently  fired  upon  it ;  but  it  was  de- 
fended with  so  much  determination  and 
perseverance,  as  to  have  been  maintained 
during  the  remainder  of  the  month.  That 
in  Washington,  after  repeated  attempts, 
was  suppressed. 

Charging  himself  with  the  service  of  the 
processes  officially  intrusted  to  him,  the 
marshal  repaired  in  person  to  the  country 
which  was  the  scene  of  these  disorders. 
He  continued  unmolested  in  the  perform- 
ance of  this  duty,  until,  being  seen  in 
company  with  General  John  Neville,  in- 
spector of  the  county  and  a  zealous  advo- 
cate of  the  tax,  they  were  assaulted  on  the 
road  by  a  body  of  armed  men,  who  fired, 
but  without  doing  any  injury.  Early  the 
next  morning,  a  party  attacked  the  house 
of  General  Neville,  the  inspector,  but  he 
defended  himself  bravely  and  successfully. 

Apprehending,  however,  that  the  busi- 
ness would  not  terminate  here,  Neville 
made  application  by  letter  to  the  judges, 
generals  of  militia,  and  sheriff  of  the 
county,  for  protection.  A  reply  to  his 
application,  from  John  Wilkins,  Jr.,  and 
John  Gibson,  magistrates  and  militia-offi- 
cers, informed  him  that  the  laws  could  not 
be  executed,  so  as  to  afford  him  the  pro- 
tection to  which  he  was  entitled,  owing  to 
the  too  general  combination  of  the  people 
in  that  part  of  Pennsylvania  to  oppose  the 
revenue  law  ;  adding,  that  they  would  take 
every  step  in  their  power  to  bring  the 
rioters  to  justice,  and  would  be  glad  to 
receive  information  relative  to  the  individ- 
uals concerned  in  the  attack  on  his  house, 
that  prosecutions  might  be  commenced 
against  them — at  the  same  time  expressing 
regret  that,  should  the  citizens  of  the 
county  be  ordered  out,  in  support  of  the 
civil  authority,  very  few  could  be  gotten 
who  were  not  of  the  party  of  the  rioters. 

The  day  following,  the  insurgents  re- 
assembled with  a  considerable  augmenta- 
tion of  numbers,  amounting  to  at  least 


five  hundred,  and,  on  the  seventeenth  of 
July,  renewed  their  attack  upon  the  house 
of  the  inspector,  who,  in  the  interval,  had 
taken  the  precaution  of  calling  to  his  aid 
a  small  detachment  from  the  garrison  of 
Fort  Pitt,  which,  at  the  time  of  the  attack, 
consisted  of  eleven  men,  who  had  been 
joined  by  Major  Abraham  Kirkpatrick,  a 
friend  and  connection  of  the  inspector. 
The  leader  of  the  insurgents  was  a  despe- 
rado named  John  Holcroft,  or  "  Tom  the 
Tinker,"  as  he  was  familiarly  called. 

There  being  scarcely  a  prospect  of  ef- 
fectual defense  against  so  large  a  number 
as  then  appeared,  and  as  the  inspector  had 
everything  to  apprehend  for  his  person,  if 
taken,  it  was  judged  advisable  that  he 
should  withdraw  from  the  house  to  a  place 
of  concealment ;  Major  Kirkpatrick  gen- 
erously agreeing  to  remain  with  the  eleven, 
intending,  if  practicable,  to  make  a  capit- 
ulation in  favor  of  the  property,  or,  if  un- 
successful, to  defend  it  as  long  as  possible. 

A  parley  took  place,  under  cover  of  a, 
flag,  which  was  sent  by  the  insurgents  to 
the  house,  with  a  demand  that  the  inspec- 
tor should  come  forth,  renounce  his  office, 
and  stipulate  never  again  to  accept  an 
office  under  the  same  laws.  To  this  it  was 
replied,  that  the  inspector  had  left  the 
house  upon  their  first  approach,  and  that 
the  place  to  which  he  had  retired  was  un- 
known. They  then  declared  that  they 
must  have  whatever  related  to  his  office; 
to  which,  answer  was  made  they  might 
send  persons,  not  exceeding  six,  to  search 
the  house,  and  take  away  whatever  papers 
they  could  find,  pertaining  to  the  office. 
But,  not  satisfied  with  this,  they  insisted, 
unconditionally,  that  the  armed  men  who 
were  in  the  house  for  its  defense,  should 
march  out  and  ground  their  arms.  Major 
Kirkpatrick  peremptorily  refused,  consid- 
ering it  and  representing  it  to  them  as  a 
proof  of  a  design  to  destroy  the  property ; 
and  this  refusal  put  an  end  to  the  parley. 

Brisk  firing  now  took  place  between  the 
insurgents  and  the  party  in  the  house, 
lasting  for  about  an  hour,  till  the  assail- 
ants, having  set  fire  to  the  neighboring 
and  adjacent  buildings,  eight  in  number, 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSUEEECTION. 


109 


the  intenaeness  of  the  heat,  and  the  danger 
of  an  immediate  communication  of  fire 
to  the  house,  obliged  the  brave  Kirkput- 
rick  and  his  small  party  to  come  out  and 
surrender  themselves. 

Desirous  of  ascertaining  their  full 
strength,  and  also  to  discover  any  secret 
enemies  that  might  remain  unsuspected  in 
the  midst  of  these  treasonable  movements, 
Bradford  and  his  comrades  proceeded  with 
a,  high  and  unsparing  hand.  Monster 
meetings  of  friends  and  sympathizers  were 


DAVID  BRADFORD. 

appointed,  to  determine  the  first  question ; 
and,  to  obtain  satisfaction  in  regard  to  the 
second,  the  mail  between  Pittsburg  and 
Philadelphia  was  stopped  by  armed  men, 
who  cut  it  open,  and  took  out  the  letters 
which  it  contained.  In  some  of  these 
letters,  a  direct  disapprobation  of  the  vio- 
lent measures  which  had  been  adopted 
was  openly  avowed.  Upon  acquiring  thus 
the  names  of  their  opponents,  messengers 
were  sent  to  Pittsburg,  where  the  writers 
of  the  offensive  letters  resided,  demanding 
the  banishment  of  the  offenders.  A 
prompt  obedience  to  these  demands  was 
unavoidable.  Another  plan  was,  for  seiz- 
ing the  United  States  military  stores  at 
Pittsburg,  and  using  them  in  carrying  on 
the  revolt.  In  order  to  accomplish .  this,  a 
mammoth  gathering  of  the  anarchists  was 
appointed  to  be  held  on  Braddock's  field, 
August  first.  This  call  was  made  in  the 
form  usual  for  militia  musters,  and  all 
were  notified  to  come  armed  and  equipped. 
Seven  thousand  men  answered  to  this  call, 
and  Bradford,  assuming  the  office  of  major- 
general,  reviewed  the  dense  mass  of  troops. 
The  main  purpose,  however,  of  this  assem- 
blage, namely,  to  march  upon  Pittsburg, 


take  possession  of  Fort  Pitt  and  the 
United  States  arsenal,  and  then  form  an 
independent  state,  or  sovereignty,  com- 
posed of  the  counties  west  of  the  Alleghany 
range,  had  been  divulged  to  few,  and, 
upon  farther  consultation,  it  was  found 
that  the  desperation  of  some  of  the  leaders  / 
failed  them  at  this  point,  and  the  project 
was  abandoned.  But  it  was  determined  to 
march  to  Pittsburg  at  any  rate, — a  march 
that  was  attended  by  a  wholesale  intimi- 
dation of  the  disaffected,  the  robbing  of 
houses,  and  the  burning  of  buildings.  But 
the  greatest  popular  demonstration  made 
of  the  law-breakers'  strength,  was  the 
meeting  at  Parkinson's  Ferry,  where  there 
assembled  representatives  of  the  whole 
vast  region  in  insurrection,  and,  in  the 
mad  enthusiasm  of  the  hour,  pledged  them- 
selves to  follow,  sixteen  thousand  strony, 
under  the  banner  of  Bradford,  in  resisting 
and  overturning  the  government.  There 
were  at  this  meeting  many  able  men,  but 
the  attendant  throng  was  of  a  far  different 
class. 

The  president  had  now,  for  three  years, 
patiently  awaited  the  effect  of  conciliatory 
measures,  but  these  had  only  continued  to 
render  the  opposition  more  desperate.  He 
therefore  had  only  to  choose  between  the 
alternative  of  permitting  the  prostration 
of  the  government,  or  to  call  out  its  force 
in  support  of  the  laws.  It  was  not  in  the 
nature  of  Washington  to  allow  the  former. 

The  subject,  in  all  its  momentous  con- 
sequences, was  laid  by  President  Wash- 
ington before  the  cabinet,  for  final  action, 
and  General  Mifflin,  the  governor  of  Penn- 
sylvania, was  on  this  occasion  called  into 
the  council.  Their  unanimous  desire  was 
to  avoid,  if  possible,  a  resort  to  arms  and 
bloodshed,  and  they  therefore  advised  that 
commissioners  should  be  sent  to  the  insur- 
gents to  warn  them  of  their  danger,  and  to 
offer  a  pardon  of  past  offenses,  on  condi- 
tion of  future  obedience  to  the  laws.  It 
was  also  advised  that  a  proclamation 
should  be  issued,  in  conformity  to  the  act 
of  congress,  commanding  the  insurgents 
to  disperse  by  a  given  day.  All  agreed 
that  a  crisis  had  arrived  which  was  testing 


110 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSUKRECTIOK 


the  strength  and  practicability  of  republi- 
can institutions. 

The  president  did  not  hesitate  to  do  his 
duty.  He  could  no  longer  see  the  laws 
prostrated,  and  the  authority  of  the  United 
States  defied,  without  exerting  the  means 
of  prevention.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to 
issue  the  proclamation,  which,  by  law,  was 
to  precede  the  employment  of  force.  This 
proclamation,  issued  August  seventh,  con- 
tained a  brief  but  distinct  recapitulation 
of  the  measures  which  had  been  adopted 
by  the  government,  as  well  as  the  pro- 
ceedings on  the  part  of  the  insurgents,  and 
the  preparatory  steps  which  had  been 
taken  to  authorize  the  executive  to  employ 
coercion  —  and  which,  though  with  the 
deepest  regret,  he  had  determined  to  do, 
in  the  interests  of  national  preservation 
and  social  order ;  and  commanding  all 
persons  being  in  the  position  of  insurgents, 
and  all  others  whom  it  might  concern,  on 
or  before  the  first  day  of  the  ensuing 
month  of  September,  to  disperse  and  re- 
tire peaceably  to  their  homes. 

On  the  same  day  of  this  proclamation, 
a  requisition  was  made  on  the  governors 
of  New  Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maryland, 
and  Virginia,  for  their  several  quotas  of 
militia  to  compose  an  army  of  twelve  or 
fifteen  thousand  men,  who  were  to  be  im- 
mediately organized  and  prepared  to  march 
at  a  minute's  warning. 

While  the  necessary  steps  were  being 
taken  to  bring  this  force  into  the  field,  a 
last  attempt  was  made  to  render  its  em- 
ployment unnecessary.  To  this  end,  the 
attorney-general  of  the  United  States,  who 
was  also  a  citizen  of  Pennsylvania,  to- 
gether with  Judge  Yates,  of  the  superior 
court,  and  Senator  Boss  of  Pennsylvania, 
who  was  particularly  popular  in  the  west- 
ern section,  were  deputed  by  the  govern- 
ment to  be  the  bearers  of  a  general 
amnesty  for  past  offenses,  on  the  sole  con- 
dition of  future  obedience  to  the  laws. 

It  having  been  deemed  advisable  that 
the  executive  of  the  state  in  which  the 
insurrection  was  rampant  should  act  in 
concert  with  that  of  the  United  States,  a 
proclamation,  similar  in  tone  and  spirit  to 


that  of  the  president,  was  now  issued  by 
Governor  MifHin,  and  commissioners  were 
appointed  by  him  to  unite  with  those  of 
the  general  government. 

But  Bradford,  whose  sway  over  his  fol- 
lowers was  well  nigh  despotic,  inspiring 
them  with  slavish  terror,  laughed  at  the 
government  proclamation  and  measures, 
claimed  that  he  could  marshal  an  army 
that  would  scatter  the  federal  force  to  the 
four  winds,  and,  under  the  banner  of 
"  Liberty  and  No  Excise — No  Asylum  for 
Cowards  and  Traitors ! "  the  insurgent 
spirit  waxed  fiercer  and  more  bold.  At- 
tempts were  made  to  embark  the  adjacent 
counties  of  Virginia  in  their  cause,  and 
their  violence  was  extended  to  Morgan- 
town,  at  which  place  an  inspector  resided, 
who  only  saved  himself  by  flight,  and  pro- 
tected his  property  by  advertising,  on  his 
own  door,  that  he  had  resigned  his  office. 
Similar  excursions  were  made  into  the 
eastern  counties  of  Pennsylvania. 

The  great  convention  of  malcontents  at 
Parkinson's  Ferry  had,  under  the  advice 
of  Brackenridge,  Marshall,  Gallatin,  and 
some  others,  appointed  a  committee  of 
safety,  of  sixty  members,  who  chose  fifteen 
of  their  body  to  confer  with  the  commis- 
sioners of  the  United  States,  and  of  Penn- 
sylvania. This  committee  was  to  receive 
proposals,  but  neither  offer  nor  accept 
terms  of  settlement. 

In  their  report  of  the  conference  thus 
held,  the  committee  expressed  themselves 
in  favor  of  accepting  the  accommodation 
offered  by  the  government.  But,  though 
many  of  the  insurgents,  trembling  at  the 
extent  of  the  conflagration  they  had  kin- 
dled, were  now  disposed  to  yield,  a  vast 
number  still  continued,  under  Bradford's 
fiery  lead,  to  go  on  in  their  revolutionary 
violence,  and  so  the  last  door  to  reconcilia- 
tion was  shut.  Meanwhile,  the  president's 
call  for  troops  was  being  responded  to  in 
overwhelming  numbers,  under  the  patriotic 
lead  of  Governor  Mifflin. 

The  president  issued  a  second  proclama- 
tion, September  25,  describing  in  terms  of 
great  energy  the  obstinate  and  perverse 
spirit  with  which  the  government's  lenient 


FAMOUS  WHISKEY  INSURRECTION. 


Ill 


propositions  had  been  received,  and  de- 
claring his  fixed  determination,  in  virtue 
of  the  high  and  imperative  duty  imposed 
upon  him  by  the  constitution  to  "  take  care 
that  the  laws  be  faithfully  executed,"  to 
reduce  the  refractory  to  obedience. 

On  every  side,  the  signals  of  war  were 
now  displayed !  The  troops  of  New  Jersey 
and  Pennsylvania  were  directed  to  ren- 
dezvous at  Bedford,  and  those  of  Maryland 
and  Virginia  at  Cumberland,  on  the  Poto- 
mac. The  command  of  the  expedition  was 
given  to  General  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia; 
and  the  governors  of  New  Jersey  and 
Pennsylvania  commanded,  under  him,  the 
militia  of  their  respective  states.  The 
president,  in  person,  pushed  on  for  Phila- 
delphia, through  deep  roads  and  a  three 
days'  drenching  rain,  visiting,  as  com- 
mander-in-chief,  each  of  the  two  grand 
divisions  into  which  he  had  divided  the 
forces.  He  had  intended  to  continue  to 
lead  the  army  solely  himself;  but,  ascer- 
taining that  this  would  not  be  called  for, 
and  feeling  confident  that  the  force  em- 
ployed must  break  down  all  resistance,  he 
left  General  Hamilton,  as  his  deputy, 
giving  directions  to  Lee  to  marcn  each 


division  across  the  Alleghany  mountains, 
meet  on  the  other  side,  and  act  against  the 
insurgents  as  circumstances  might  require. 
But,  as  had  been  sagaciously  foreseen,  the 


GEN.  HENRY   LEE. 


greatness  of  the  force  prevented  the  effu- 
sion of  blood.  The  rebellious  hordes  fled 
before  such  a  demonstration,  the  clemency 
of  the  government  was  solicited,  and  sub- 
mission to  every  law  freely  promised. 
Some  of  the  more  evil  disposed  were  ar- 
rested and  tried,  but  pardon  was  ultimately 
extended  to  all.  Bradford  escaped  to 
Spanish  territory.  And  thus,  in  the 
words  of  Washington,  was  decided  "the 
contest,  whether  a  small  proportion  of  the 
United  States  shall  dictate  to  the  whole 
Union." 


XIII. 

FOUNDING  AND    ESTABLISHMENT  OF  THE   NATIONAL 

CAPITAL.— 1799. 


Bitter  Sectional  Contest  in  Deciding  the  Location. — First  "Compromise"  in  Congress  between  the 
North  and  the  South. — Final  Kemoval  of  the  Government  and  its  Archives  to  Washington. — Official 
Observance  of  the  Event. — Magnificent  Site  and  Plan  of  the  City. — Splendor  of  its  Public  Build- 
ings.— Congress  First  Sits  in  Philadelphia. — Need  of  a  Permanent  Capital. — National  Dignity  Involved. 
— Violent  Agitation  of  the  Subject. — Philadelphia  and  New  York  Proposed. — They  are  Objected  to  by 
the  South. — Northern  Disunion  Threats. — Schemes  of  Conciliation. — How  the  Question  was  Settled. 
— Sweetening  Two  Bitter  Pills. — Jefferson's  Graphic  Account. — General  Washington's  Preference. — 
His  Site  on  the  Potomac  Adopted. — Some  Rather  Personal  Anecdotes. — Work  of  Laying  Out  the  City. 
— Its  Original  Aspect  and  Condition — Early  Trials  of  the  President's  Wife. — Construction  of  the  Cap- 
itol.— Its  Corner-Stone  Laid  by  Washington. — Congress  in  its  New  Halls. — Growth  of  the  Metropolis. 
—The  New  Corner-Stone  of  1851. 


•*  Where  peeped  the  hut  the  palace  toweni 
Where  skimmed  the  bark  the  war-ship  lower*  | 
Joy  Raily  carol*  whore  was  ulencerune  ; 
And  cultured  thou&anda  throujf  the  tolitudfi. 


in  importance  to  the  founding  of  a  free  and  independent 
nationality,  and  the  inauguration  of  a  supreme  legislative  and 
executive  government,  was  the  act  of  establishing  a  permanent 
capital, —  one  on  a  scale,  and  of  a  character,  commensurate  with 
the  dignity  and  prospects  of  the  new  republic.  Indeed,  from  as  early  a  period  as  June, 
1783,  when  congress  was  virtually  driven  from  its  halls  in  Philadelphia  by  the  mutiny 
of  a  part  of  the  Pennsylvania  line,  the  necessity  was  very  evident  of  some  place  being 
fixed  upon  where  the  government  of  the  Union  might  at  least  be  secure  from  violence 
and  insult.  As  this  remarkable  and  untoward  circumstance  was,  perhaps,  one  of  the 
most  notable  in  its  bearing  upon  subsequent  events,  in  this  connection,  it  may  be  worth 
while  to  recite  some  of  its  chief  features.  While  the  patriot  army,  encamped  under 
the  eye  of  Washington,  bore  their  hardships  and  privations  without  flinching,  and,  at 
the  close  of  the  struggle,  in  1783,  returned  quietly,  though  poor  and  unpaid,  to  their 
homes,  some  of  the  newly-recruited  soldiers  of  Pennsylvania,  stationed  at  Lancaster, 
suddenly  mutinied  and  set  off  in  a  body  for  Philadelphia,  to  demand  redress  of  fancied 
grievances  from  the  legislature  of  the  state.  Arriving  at  that  city,  they  were  joined 
by  a  force  from  the  barracks,  and  proceeded  on  the  second  of  June  with  beat  of  drum 
and  fixed  bayonets  to  the  state  house,  where  congress  and  the  supreme  executive  council 
of  Pennsylvania  were  both  holding  their  sessions.  After  placing  sentinels  at  all  the 
doors,  they  sent  in  a  written  message,  threatening  the  president  and  the  council  of  the 
state  to  let  loose  an  enraged  soldiery  upon  them,  if  their  demands  were  not  acceded  to 
in  twenty  minutes.  Although  the  resentments  of  this  banditti  were  not  directed  par- 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


113 


ticularly  against  congress,  the  government 
of  the  Union  was  grossly  insulted,  ami 
those  who  administered  it  were  blockaded 
for  several  hours  in  the  discharge  of  their 
duties,  by  an  armed  band.  Fearing  lest 
the  authorities  of  Pennsylvania  might  not 
be  able  to  furnish  adequate  protection,  it 
adjourned  to  meet  within  a  few  days  at 
Princeton, — sending  information,  in  the 
meantime,  to  Washington,  of  this  outbreak. 
The  latter  immediately  sent  fifteen  hun- 
dred men  under  General  Howe  to  suppress 
the  mutiny ;  but  before  the  detachment 
could  reach  Philadelphia,  the  mutiny  was 
in  a  great  degree  subdued,  and  fortunately 
without  bloodshed. 

When  once  the  subject  of  definitely 
fixing  upon  a  location  for  the  seat  of  gov- 
ernment was  before  congress  and  the 
people,  the  question  seemed  to  overshadow 
all  others.  Being  in  session  at  Princeton, 
under  the  circumstances  above  narrated,  it 
was  resolved  by  congress  that  a  building 
for  the  national  legislature  be  erected  near 
the  Falls  of  the  Delaware. 

The  commissioners  to  lay  out  a  town  on 
the  Delaware  reported  their  proceedings 
to  congress,  but  no  further  steps  were 
taken  to  carry  the  resolution  into  effect. 
Some  were  very  strenuous  for  New  York, 
others  proposed  some  convenient  place  on 
the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna.  To  the 
latter  proposition,  southern  members, 
among  whom  was  Mr.  Madison,  were  un- 
alterably opposed.  All  admitted  the  im- 
portance of  the  step  to  be  taken,  involving, 
perhaps,  the  perpetuity  of  the  government 
itself. 

At  length,  a  compact  respecting  the 
temporary  and  permanent  seat  of  govern- 
ment was  entered  into  between  the  friends 
of  Philadelphia,  and  the  Potomac,  whereby 
it  was  stipulated  that  congress  should 
hold  its  sessions  in  Philadelphia,  for  ten 
years,  during  which  time,  buildings  for 
the  accommodation  of  the  government 
should  be  erected  at  some  place,  to  be  se- 
lected, on  the  Potomac,  and  which  latter 
should  become,  on  the  expiration  of  the 
ten  years,  the  permanent  capital  of  the 
nation.  This  compromise  having  united 


tho  representatives  of  Pennsylvania  and 
Delaware  with  the  friends  of  the  Potomac, 
in  favor  both  of  the  temporary  and  perma- 
nent locality  which  had  'been  mutually 
agreed  on  between  them,  a  majority  was 
thus  finally  secured  in  favor  of  the  project, 
and  a  bill  which  was  brought  into  the 
senate  in  conformity  with  this  arrange- 
ment, passed  both  houses  by  small  major- 
ities, though,  according  to  Judge  Marshall, 
these  majorities  would  have  been  larger, 
if  necessary. 

But,  as  the  final  compromise  briefly  re- 
corded above  shows,  the  die  was  cast,  at 
last,  to  mutual  satisfaction.  How  this  was 
brought  about,  Jefferson's  graphic,  and, 
it  may  be,  highly-colored  portraiture  of  the 
closing  hour  and  result  of  the  struggle  will 
give  some  idea :  '  The  eastern  members 
particularly,  who,  with  Smith  from  South 
Carolina,  were  the  principal  gamblers  in 
these  scenes,  threatened  secession  and  dis- 
solution. Hamilton  was  in  despair.  As 
I  was  going  to  the  president's,  one  day,  I 
met  him  in  the  street.  He  walked  me 
backwards  and  forwards  before  the  presi- 
dent's door  for  half  an  hour.  He  painted 
pathetically  the  temper  into  which  the 
legislature  had  been  wrought ;  the  disgust 
of  those  who  were  called  the  creditor 
states ;  the  danger  of  the  secession  of  their 
members,  and  the  separation  of  the  states. 
He  observed  that  the  members  of  the  ad- 
ministration ought  to  act  in  concert ;  that 
though  this  question  was  not  of  my  de- 
partment, yet  a  common  duty  should  make 
it  a  common  concern ;  that  the  president 
was  the  center  on  which  all  administration 
questions  ultimately  rested,  and  that  all  of 
us  should  rally  around  him,  and  support, 
with  joint  efforts,  measures  approved  by 
him ;  and  that  the  question  having  been 
lost  by  a  small  majority  only,  it  was  prob- 
able that  an  appeal  from  me  to  the  judg- 
ment and  discretion  of  some  of  my  friends, 
might  effect  a  change  in  the  vote,  and  the 
machine  of  government,  now  suspended, 
might  be  again  set  into  motion.  I  told  him 
that  I  was  really  a  stranger  to  the  whole 
subject ;  that  not  having  yet  informed  my- 
self of  the  system  of  finance  adopted,  I 


114 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


knew  not  how  far  this  was  a  necessary  se- 
quence ;  that  undoubtedly,  if  its  rejection 
endangered  a  dissolution  of  our  Union  at 
this  incipient  stage,  I  should  deem  that 
the  most  unfortunate  of  all  consequences, 
to  avert  which  all  partial  and  temporary 
evils  should  be  yielded.  I  proposed  to 
him,  however,  to  dine  with  me  the  next 
day,  and  I  would  invite  another  friend  or 
two,  bring  them  into  conference  together, 
and  I  thought  it  impossible  that  reasona- 
ble men,  consulting  together  coolly,  could 
fail,  by  some  mutual  sacrifices  of  opinion, 
to  form  a  compromise  which  was  to  save 
the  Union.  The  discussion  took  place.  I 
could  take  no  part  in  it  but  an  exhortatory 
one,  because  I  was  a  stranger  to  the  cir- 
cumstances which  should  govern  it.  But 
it  was  finally  agreed,  that  whatever  im- 
portance had  been  attached  to  the  rejection 
of  this  proposition,  the  preservation  of  the 
Union  and  of  concord  among  the  states, 
was  more  important,  and  that,  therefore, 
it  would  be  better  that  the  vote  of  rejec- 
tion should  be  rescinded,  to  effect  which 
some  members  should  change  their  votes. 
But  it  was  observed  that  this  pill  would  be 
peculiarly  bitter  to  the  southern  states, 
and  that  some  concomitant  measure  should 
be  adopted  to  sweeten  it  a  little  to  them. 
There  had  before  been  projects  to  fix  the 
seat  of  government  either  at  Philadelphia, 
or  at  Georgetown  on  the  Potomac  ;  and  it 
was  thought  that,  by  giving  it  to  Phila- 
delphia for  ten  years,  and  to  Georgetown 
permanently  afterwards,  this  might,  as  an 
anodyne,  calm  in  some  degree  the  ferment 
which  might  be  excited  by  the  other  meas- 
ure alone.  So  two  of  the  Potomac  mem- 
bers (White  and  Lee,  but  White  with  a 
revulsion  of  stomach  almost  convulsive) 
agreed  to  change  their  votes,  and  Hamilton 
undertook  to  carry  the  other  point.  In 
doing  this,  the  influence  he  had  established 
over  the  eastern  members,  with  the  agency 
of  Robert  Morris  with  those  of  the  middle 
states,  effected  his  side  of  the  engagement.' 
Thus  it  was  that  the  assumption-bill  was 
passed,  and  thus  it  was  that  the  far  more 
important  measure  was  enacted,  which 
provided — 


"  That  a  district  of  territory  on  the 
river  Potomac,  at  some  place  between  the 
mouths  of  the  eastern  branch  and  the 
Connogocheague,  be,  and  the  same  is 
hereby,  accepted,  for  the  permanent  seat 
of  the  government  of  the  United  States." 
In  enduring  honor  of  the  father  of  his 
country,  the  name  given  to  the  projected 
city  was  WASHINGTON. 

From  the  beginning,  General  Washing- 
ton advocated  the  site  which  was  finally 
fixed  upon,  and  its  establishment  there 
was  due  in  a  large  measure  to  his  counsels 
and  influence.  It  is  related,  though  some- 
what questionable,  that  during  the  hot  and 
angry  discussion  on  the  subject,  in  con- 
gress, pending  the  determination  of  a 
locality,  a  person  who  was  in  company 
with  Washington  remarked,  one  day, — 

"I  know  very  well  where  the  federal 
city  ought  to  be." 

"  Where  then  would  you  put  it,  sir  ? " 
was  the  serene  inquiry  of  Washington.  ' 

"  It  ought  to  be  located  in  Philadelphia," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Why  are  you  sure  it  should  be  there  ?  " 

"  For  the  most  satisfactory  of  all  rea- 
sons," was  the  sinister  answer  ;  "  because 
nearly  the  whole  of  my  property  lies  there 
and  in  the  neighborhood." 

In  stern  silence  did  Washington  fasten 
his  eye  upon  the  man  who  thus  dared  the 
insolent  insinuation  that  the  president 
favored  the  location  of  the  capital  in  its 
present  site  because  it  was  near  his  Mount 
Vernon  estates ;  and  the  offender  soon 
vanished  out  of  sight. 

Another  little  anecdote  in  this  connec- 
tion will  be  here  given,  as  showing  that 
"  no  sea  is  free  from  ripples."  It  was  for 
many  years  traditional  in  the  federal  capi- 
tal, that  one  man  was  found  not  awed  by 
the  presence  of  the  great  founder  of  that 
city.  While  the  president  was  procuring 
the  ground  which  was  to  be  the  seat  of 
government,  he  had  but  little  difficulty  in 
obtaining  the  necessary  releases,  except  in 
one  instance.  Mr.  James  Byrnes  was  the 
owner  of  a  lot  or  tract  which  it  was  advis- 
able should  be  included  in  the  plan.  The 
general  had  various  conferences  with  Mr. 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


115 


Byrnes,  who  was  especially  obstinate,  and, 
highly  prizing,  as  he  did,  the  tract  ill  ques- 
tion, flatly  resisted  all  the  reasonings  and 
persuasions  of  the  great  man.  Unused  to 
opposition,  Washington  at  last  turned 
upon  him  and  said,  as  only  he  could  say 
it,— 

"  Mr.  James  Byrnes  !  what  would  your 
land  have  been  worth  if  I  had  not  placed 
this  city  on  the  Potomac  ?  " 

Byrnes  was  not  at  all  crushed  by  this 
peculiar  flanking  argument  on  the  part  of 
the  general ;  but,  undismayed,  coolly 
turned  to  him  and  said, — 

"George  Washington,  what  would  you 
have  been  worth  if  you  had  not  married 
the  widow  Custis  ?" 

It  will  not  do  to  judge  of  the  nation's 
metropolis  at  that  day  by  what  it  is  now. 
At  that  time  it  was  desolate  in  the  ex- 
treme, with  its  long  unimproved  avenues 
and  streets,  its  deep  morasses,  and  its  vast 
area  covered  with  trees  instead  of  houses. 
Mrs.  Adams,  the  wife  of  President  John 
Adams,  who  first  occupied  the  White 
House,  in  writing  to  a  friend  regarding 
the  city  and  the  presidential  mansion  at 
that  period,  says :  '  In  the  city  are  build- 
ings enough,  if  they  were  compact  and 
finished,  to  accommodate  congress  and 
those  attached  to  it,  but  as  they  are,  I  see 
no  great  comfort  in  them.  The  river, 
which  runs  up  to  Alexandria,  is  in  full 
view  of  my  window,  and  I  can  see  the 
vessels  as  they  pass  and  re-pass.  The 
house  is  upon  a  grand  and  superb  scale, 
requiring  about  thirty  servants  to  attend 
and  keep  the  apartments  in  proper  order, 
and  perform  the  ordinary  business  of  the 
house  and  stables ;  an  establishment  very 
well  proportioned  to  the  president's  salary. 
The  lighting  the  apartments,  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlors  and  chambers,  is  a 
tax  indeed;  and  the  fires  we  are  obliged 
to  keep,  to  secure  us  from  daily  agues,  is 
another  very  cheering  comfort.  To  assist 
us  in  this  great  castle,  and  render  less  at- 
tendance necessary,  bells  are  wholly  want- 
ing, not  one  being  hung  through  the 
whole  house,  and  promises  are  all  we  can 
obtain.  This  is  so  great  an  inconvenience 


that  I  know  not  what  to  do,  or  how  to  do. 
If  they  will  put  me  up  some  bells,  and  let 
me  have  wood  enough  to  keep  fires,  I  de- 
sign to  be  pleased.  I  could  content  my- 
self anywhere  three  months,  but  sur- 
rounded by  forests,  can  you  believe  that 
wood  is  not  to  be  had,  because  people  can 
not  be  found  to  cut  and  cart  it  ?  Briesler 
entered  into  a  contract  with  a  man  to 
supply  him  with  wood.  A  small  part,  a 
few  cords  only,  has  he  been  able  to  get. 
Most  of  that  was  expended  to  dry  the  walls 
of  the  house  before  we  came  in,  and  yes- 
terday the  man  told  him  it  was  impossible 
for  him  to  procure  it  to  be  cut  and  carted. 
He  has  had  recourse  to  coals;  but  we  can 
not  get  grates  made  and  set.  We  have 
indeed  come  into  a  new  country.'  These 
and  kindred  inconveniences  were  naturally 
incident  to  the  new  order  of  things  ;  they 
were  only  temporary. 

As  has  already  appeared,  it  was  reserved 
to  Washington's  immediate  successor  in 
the  presidential  office,  to  be  the  first  occu- 
pant of  the  executive  mansion.  Neverthe- 
less, the  superintending  mind  and  hand  of 
Washington  are  broadly  identified  with 
the  conception  '  not  only  of  that  elegant 
building,  but  of  the  capitol  and  other  gov- 
ernment structures.  On  the  fifteenth  day 
of  April,  1791,  the  Hon.  Daniel  Carroll 
and  Dr.  David  Stewart  superintended  the 
fixing  of  the  first  corner-stone  of  the  Dis- 
trict of  Columbia,  at  Jones's  Point,  near 
Alexandria ;  it  was  laid  with  all  the  usual 
masonic  ceremonies,  an  address  being  also 
delivered  on  the  occasion  by  Rev.  James 
Muir.  "  May  this  stone,"  said  the  orator, 
"  long  commemorate  the  goodness  of  God 
in  those  uncommon  events  which  have 
given  America  a  name  among  nations. 
Under  this  stone  may  jealousy  and  selfish- 
ness be  forever  buried.  From  this  stone 
may  a  superstructure  arise  whose  glory, 
whose  magnificence,  whose  stability,  shall 
astonish  the  world."  The  south-east 
corner-stone  of  the  capitol  was  laid  by 
President  Washington,  September  eight- 
eenth, 1793,  with  appropriate  services, 
principal  among  which  was  the  act  of  the 
commissioners,  in  their  official  capacity, 


116 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


N-,   D.   O.,   IS  1876. 


when  they  delivered  to  President  Wash- 
ington, who  deposited  it  in  the  stone,  a 
silver  plate,  inscribed  as  follows  : — 

"This  south-east  corner-stone  of  the 
Capitol  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
in  the  city  of  Washington,  was  laid  on  the 
18th  day  of  September,  1793,  in  the  eight- 
eenth year  of  American  Independence,  in 
the  first  year  of  the  second  term  of  the 
presidency  of  George  Washington,  whose 
virtues  in  the  civil  administration  of  his 
country  have  been  as  conspicuous  and 
beneficial  as  his  military  valor  and  pru- 
dence have  been  useful  in  establishing  her 
liberties,  and  in  the  year  of  Masonry  5793, 
by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  in 
concert  with  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Mary- 
land, several  lodges  under  its  jurisdiction, 
and  Lodge  No.  22  from  Alexandria,  Vir- 
ginia." 

In  the  summer  of  1800,  the  archives  of 
the  government  were  removed  from  Phila- 
delphia to  Washington,  and,  the  ensuing 
November,  the  north  wing  of  the  capitol 
was  ready  for  the  first  sitting  of  congress 
in  the  new  metropolis.  John  Cotton 


Smith,  a  distinguished  member  of  this  con- 
gress  from  Connecticut,  speaking  of  the 
new  city  on  his  arrival  there,  says :  'I 
can  not  sufficiently  express  my  admiration 
of  its  local  position.' 

It  was  at  this  session  that  formal  recog- 
nition was  made  of  the  great  national 
event  of  the  founding  and  establishment 
of  the  national  capital,  by  mutual  congrat- 
ulatory addresses  between  the  chief  mag- 
istrate of  the  republic  on  the  one  part,  and 
the  senate  and  house  of  representatives  on 
the  other. 

A  more  beautiful  site  for  a  large  city 
could  scarcely  have  been  selected.  On  a 
level  plain  some  three  miles  in  length,  and 
varying  from  a  quarter  to  two  miles  wide, 
and  extending  from  the  banks  of  the 
Potomac  to  a  range  of  hills  bounding 
the  plain  on  the  east,  the  new  city  was 
laid  out.  The  idea  of  General  Washington 
was  that  the  capitol  should  be  the  center 
of  the  city,  and  that  avenues  should  radi- 
ate from  it  at  equi-distant  points.  To 
complete  his  plan,  the  metropolis  should 
have  a  million  of  inhabitants,  instead  of 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


11' 


its  present  very  moderate  fraction  of  that 
number.  Though  not  a  seven-hilled  city, 
Washington  has,  as  well  as  Rome,  its  Ca- 
pitoline  Hill,  commanding  views  scarcely 


KATIOXAL  CAPITOL  IX  1876. 

less  striking  than  those  of  the  Eternal 
City.  The  general  altitude  of  the  city- 
plot  is  forty  feet  above  the  river,  but  this 
is  diversified  by  irregular  elevations,  which 
serve  to  give  variety  and  commanding 
sites  for  the  public  buildings.  The  plot  is 
slightly  amphitheatrical,  the  president's 
house  on  the  west  standing  on  one  of 
the  sides,  and  the  capitol  on  the  other, 
while  the  space  between  verges  towards  a 
point  near  the  river.  The  president's 
house  and  the  capitol  stand  centrally  with 
regard  to  the  whole,  though  situated  at 
the  distance  of  one  mile  from  each  other, 
the  former  forty-four  feet  above  the  Poto- 
mac, and  the  latter  seventy-two  feet.  All 
the  public  buildings  are  on  a  scale  of  mag- 
nificence worthy  of  a  great  nation  ;  and 
the  munificence  of  congress  in  this  respect, 
as  well  as  in  regard  to  all  that  pertains  to 
the  city,  as  the  seat  of  government  of  the 
United  States,  is  evident  on  every  side. 
This  is  as  it  should  be,  and  betokens  the 
destined  splendor,  in  point  of  architecture, 
avenues  and  parks,  institutions  of  art, 
science  and  education,  of  the  federal  cap- 
ital. 

Starting  from  the  capitol,  the  streets 
run  from  north  to  south  and  from  east  to 
west,  their  width  varying  from  ninety  to 
one  hundred  and  ten  feet.  There  are  be- 
side twenty  avenues,  named  after  the 


older  states  of  the  Union,  which  cross  the 
streets  at  various  angles  and  connect  the 
most  important  points  of  the  city,  forming 
at  their  intersection  with  the  streets  and 
with  each  other  numerous  open 
spaces.  These  grand  avenues  are 
from  one  hundred  and  thirty  to 
one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  uni- 
form width;  the  principal  of  these 
is  called  in  honor  of  the  state  of 
Pennsylvania,  and  extends  from 
Georgetown  to  the  Anacostia,  a 
distance  of  four  miles.  It  forms 
the  main  avenue  of  communication 
between  the  capitol  and  the  presi- 
dent's house  and  the  chief  offices 
of  government.  The  capitol  com- 
mands Maryland,  Delaware,  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  Maine,  and 
Missouri  avenues;  the  president's  house, 
Pennsylvania,  New  York,  Vermont,  and 
Connecticut  avenues.  The  effect  of  this 
arrangement,  taken  in  connection  with 
the  natural  advantages  of  the  site,  is 
exceedingly  fine— one  of  the  finest  in 
the  world,  for  a  city.  From  the  hill,  in 
especial,  on  which  stands  the  capitol,  the 


SYS1HOL1C   STATUE    OF   AMERICA    8UBMODHT1KQ 
THE  U.   S.  CAPITOL. 

most  noble  view  presents  itself  to  the  eye 
of  the  beholder  that  the  imagination  can 
conceive.  On  the  fourth  of  July,  1851, 


118 


FOUNDING  OF  THE  NATIONAL  CAPITAL. 


the  corner-stone  of  that  magnificent  ex- 
tension of  the  capitol  which  has  rendered 
it  the  most  superb  structure  of  its  kind  in 
the  world,  was  laid  with  splendid  ceremo- 
nial, including  a  commemorative  oration 
by  President  Fillmore,  assisted  by  Daniel 
Webster,  secretary  of  state.  In  the  stone 
was  also  deposited  a  record  of  the  event, 
with  the  following  impressive  statement 
and  invocation  : — 

"  If,  therefore,  it  shall  be  hereafter  the 
will  of  God  that  this  structure  shall  fall 
from  its  base,  that  its  foundation  be  up- 
turned, and  this  deposit  brought  to  the 
eyes  of  men,  be  it  then  known  that  on 
this  day  the  union  of  the  United  States  of 
America  stands  firm,  that  their  Constitu- 


tion still  exists  unimpaired  and  with  all 
its  original  usefulness  and  glory,  growing 
every  day  stronger  and  stronger  in  the 
affections  of  the  great  body  of  the  Amer- 
ican people,  and  attracting  more  and  more 
the  admiration  of  the  world.  And  all 
here  assembled,  whether  belonging  to 
public  life  or  to  private  life,  with  hearts 
devoutly  thankful  to  Almighty  God  for 
the  preservation  of  the  liberty  and  happi- 
'  ness  of  the  country,  unite  in  sincere  and 
fervent  prayer  that  this  deposit,  and  the 
walls  and  arches,  the  domes  and  towers, 
the  columns  and  entablatures,  now  to 
be  erected  over  it,  may  endure  forever ! 
GOD  SAVE  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF 
AMERICA  1 " 


XIV. 
DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON.— 1799. 


His  Sudden  and  Brief  Illness,  Last  Hours,  and  Dying  Words  —Fortitude  and  Serenity  Through  all 
His  Sufferings.— He  Calmly  Announces  His  Approaching  Dissolution  Without  a  Murmur.— The 
Whole  World  Does  Honor,  by  Eulogy  and  Lamentations,  to  His  Exalted  Worth  and  Immortal  Fame. 
—He  Anticipated  an  Early  Death.— His  Invariably  Good  Health.— Exposure  in  a  Snow-Stonu.— 
Takes  a  Fatal  Cold.— Last  Letter  Written  by  His  Hand.— Reads  the  Papers  in  the  Evening.— Char- 
acteristic Reply  to  His  Wife.— Passes  a  Restless  Night.— Alarming  Condition  the  Next  Day.— Medi- 
cal Treatment  of  no  Avail.— Calls  for  His  Two  Wills,  Burns  One.— Affecting  Scene  at  His  Bedside. 

—Last  Words,  "  'Tis  Well !  "—Only  One  Day's  Sickness. 
— Acute  Laryngitis  His  Disease. — Burial  in  the  Old  Family 
Vault. — Tidings  of  His  Death.— Tributes  from  Peoples  and 
Kings.— A  Man  Without  a  Parallel —Last  Page  in  His 
Journal. — Re-entombment  in  1837. — Appearance  of  His 
Remains. 


'•  Posterity  will  talk  of  Washington  with  reverence,  an  the  founder  of  a  great 
empire,  when  my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex  of  revolutioo."-NjipOLKOi»  Bo- 


i  ASIIIXGTON  is  dead!"  were  the  appalling  words  which,  with  the 
fading  out  of  the  eighteenth  century,  brought  home  to  every  American  heart  the  solemn 
lesson  of  the  flight  of  time,  and  that  "  all  men  are  mortal."  Totally  unprepared  as 
was  his  idolizing  country  for  such  an  event, — no  intelligence  of  the  slightest  illness  of 
the  great  chieftain  having  preceded  the  bald  announcement  of  his  death  and  burial, — 
the  tidings  moved  the  nation's  heart  to  profound  amazement  and  sorrow,  and  deep  an- 
swered unto  deep,  in  the  universal  wail  of  a  bereaved  and  stricken  republic.  If  a 
nation's  prayers  could  have  prevailed,  Washington — Columbia's  most  honored,  venerated, 
and  renowned  son, — would  have  been  immortal  on  earth.  But  the  ordinance  of  divine 
wisdom  is,  that  the  great  boon  of  immortality  shall  be  attained  by  man  only  through 
the  portals  of  the  grave,  and  to  this  decree  the  illustrious  and  the  humble  are  alike  sub- 
ject. Thus  it  was  that  Washington,  the  great  Christian  warrior  and  statesman — the 
greatest  of  good  men  and  the  best  of  great  men — paid  the  debt  of  nature  when  he  had 
scarcely  reached  the  allotted  period  of  three-score  years  and  ten. 

The  last  end  of  so  illustrious  a  personage  as  Washington,  is  fraught  with  an  interest 
so  profound  and  memorable,  as  never  to  lose  its  freshness  and  value  to  successive 
generations.  It  appeared  to  be  the  will  of  heaven  that,  so  soon  as  the  circum- 
stances of  his  country  enabled  it  to  dispense  with  the  services  of  the  man  who,  above 
all  others,  was  its  founder  and  leading  head,  he  should  be  summoned  away  from 
the  scenes  of  earth.  That  he  was  one  who  was  accustomed  to  consider  the  brevity  of 
life  and  the  ?jncertainty  of  human  affairs,  is  evident  from  the  tenor  of  his  conduct 
and  conversation,  and  from  occasional  passages  in  his  correspondence.  Thus,  to  the 
Hon.  James  M'Henry,  secretary  of  war,  he  wrote,  but  a  few  months  prior  to  his 
decease :  "  My  greatest  anxiety  is  to  have  all  these  concerns  in  such  a  clear  and  distinct 


120 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


form,  that  no  reproach  may  attach  itself  to 
me  when  I  have  taken  my  departure  for 
the  land  of  spirits."  He  had  also  been 
making  arrangements,  just  before  the  at- 
tack of  illness  which  terminated  in  his 
death,  for  the  construction  of  an  improved 
family  tomb,  and  in  speaking  of  his  plans 
to  a  relative  at  his  side,  he  remarked, 
"  This  change,  I  shall  make  the  first  of  all, 
for  I  may  require  it  before  the  rest."  He 
had  also  been  heard  to  say,  "  I  am  of  a 
short-lived  family,  and  cannot  expect  to 
remain  very  long  upon  the  earth." 

The  month  of  December,  1799,  found 
him  in  the  enjoyment  of  excellent  health. 
Indeed,  Major  Lewis,  his  nephew,  writing 
of  him  as  he  appeared  to  himself  and  a 
friend  at  that  time,  says,  "  The  clear  and 
healthy  flush  on  his  cheek  and  his 
sprightly  manner  brought  the  remark  from 
both  of  us,  that  we  had  never  seen  the 
general  look  so  well."  On  the  tenth  of 
December,  he  completed  the  draught  of  an 
elaborate  plan  for  the  management  of  his 
lands,  laying  down  the  rotation  of  the 
crops  for  a  succession  of  years  in  advance. 
The  morning  of  that  day  was  clear  and 
calm,  but  the  afternoon  was  lowering. 
The  next  day,  the  eleventh,  was  bluster- 
ing and  rainy  ;  and  at  night,  as  Washing- 
ton recorded  in  his  diary,  "there  was  a 
large  circle  round  the  moon."  The  morn- 
ing of  the  twelfth  was  overcast.  Wash- 
ington's last  letter  was  written  that 
morning — it  was  to  Hamilton,  and  princi- 
pally on  the  subject  of  a  military  academy. 
The  events  of  that  day,  and  of  the  two 
days  following,  are  most  minutely  narrated 
by  an  eye-witness — Mr.  Tobias  Lear, — 
who  was  Washington's  private  secretary 
as  well  as  valued  friend ;  and  with  Mr. 
Lear's  statement,  are  incorporated  some 
facts  from  the  pen  of  Washington's  favor- 
ite kinsman,  Mr.  Custis  : — 

On  Thursday,  December  twelfth,  the 
general  rode  out  to  his  farms  about  ten 
o'clock,  and  did  not  return  home  till  past 
three.  Soon  after  he  went  out,  the  weather 
became  very  ba'd,  rain,  hail,  snow  falling 
alternately,  with  a  cold  wind.  When  he 
came  in,  I  carried  some  letters  to  him  to 


frank,  intending  to  send  them  to  the  post- 
office  in  the  evening.  He  franked  the 
letters,  but  said  the  weather  was  too  bad 
to  send  a  servant  to  the  office  that  even- 
ing. I  observed  to  him,  that  I  was  afraid 
he  had  got  wet.  He  said,  No,  his  great 
coat  had  kept  him  dry.  But  his  neck  ap- 
peared to  be  wet,  and  the  snow  was 
hanging  upon  his  hair.  He  came  to  din- 
ner, which  had  been  waiting  for  him, 
without  changing  his  dress.  In  the  even- 
ing he  appeared  as  well  as  usual. 

A  heavy  fall  of  snow  took  place  on 
Friday,  which  prevented  the  general  from 
riding  out  as  usual.  He  had  taken  cold, 
undoubtedly  from  being  so  much  exposed 
the  day  before,  and  complained  of  a  sore 
throat.  He,  however,  went  out  in  the 
afternoon  into  the  ground  between  the 
house  and  the  river  to  mark  some  trees, 
which  were  to  be  cut  down  in  the  improve- 
ment of  that  spot.  As  was  usual  with 
him,  he  carried  his  own  compass,  noted 
his  observations,  and  marked  the  ground. 
He  had  a  hoarseness,  which  increased  in 
the  evening,  but  he  made  light  of  it. 

Between  two  and  three  o'clock,  on  Sat- 
urday morning,  December  fourteenth,  he 
awoke  Mrs.  Washington,  and  told  her  that 
he  was  very  unwell,  and  had  had  an  ague. 
She  observed  that  he  could  scarcely  speak, 


and  breathed  with  difficulty,  and  would 
have  got  up  to  call  a  servant.  But  he 
would  not  permit  her,  lest  she  should  take 
a  cold.  As  soon  as  the  day  appeared,  the 


DEATH  OF  GEOKGE  WASHINGTON. 


121 


woman  (Caroline)  went  into  the  room  to 
make  a  fire,  and  Mrs.  Washington  sent 
her  immediately  to  call  me.  I  got  up, 
put  on  my  clothes  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  went  to  his  chamber.  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton was  then  up,  and  related  to  me  his 
being  ill  as  before  stated.  I  found  the 
general  breathing  with  difficulty,  and 
hardly  able  to  utter  a  word  intelligibly. 
He  desired  Mr.  Rawlins  (one  of  the  over- 
seers) might  be  sent  for,  to  bleed  him  be- 
fore the  doctor  could  arrive.  I  dispatched 
a  servant  instantly  for  Kawlins,  and  an- 
other for  Dr.  Craik,  and  returned  again  to 
the  general's  chamber,  where  I  found  him 
in  the  same  situation  as  I  had  left  him. 

A  mixture  of  molasses,  vinegar,  and 
butter,  was  prepared,  to  try  its  effects  in 
the  throat;  but  he  could  not  swallow  a 
drop.  Whenever  he  attempted  it,  he  ap- 
peared to  be  distressed,  convulsed,  and  al- 
most suffocated.  Rawlins  came  in  soon 
after  sunrise,  and  prepared  to  bleed  him. 
When  the  arm  was  ready,  the  general,  ob- 
serving that  Eawlins  appeared  to  be  agi- 
tated, said,  as  well  as  he  could  speak, 
"  Don't  be  afraid."  And  when  the  incision 
was  made,  he  observed,  "  The  orifice  is  not 
large  enough."  However,  the  blood  ran 
pretty  freely.  Mrs.  Washington,  not 
knowing  whether  bleeding  was  proper  or 
not  in  the  general's  situation,  begged  that 
much  might  not  be  taken  from  him,  lest  it 
should  be  injurious,  and  desired  me  to 
stop  it ;  but,  when  I  was  about  to  untie 
the  string,  the  general  put  up  his  hand  to 
prevent  it,  and,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak, 
he  said,  "  More,  more."  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton being  still  very  uneasy,  lest  too  much 
blood  should  be  taken,  it  was  stopped  after 
taking  about  half  a  pint.  Finding  that  no 
relief  was  obtained  from  bleeding,  and 
that  nothing  would  go  down  the  throat,  I 
proposed  bathing  it  externally  with  sal 
volatile,  which  was  done,  and  in  the  opera- 
tion, which  was  with  the  hand,  and  in  the 
gentlest  manner,  he  observed,  "It  is  very 
sore."  A  piece  of  flannel  dipped  in  sal 
volatile,  was  put  around  his  neck,  and  his 
feet  bathed  in  warm  water,  but  without 
affording  any  relief. 


In  the  meantime,  before  Dr.  Craik  ar- 
rived, Mrs.  Washington  desired  me  to 
send  for  Dr.  Brown,  of  Port  Tobacco, 
whom  Dr.  Craik  had  recommended  to  be 
called,  if  any  case  should  ever  occur  that 
was  seriously  alarming. 

Dr.  Dick  came  about  three  o'clock,  and 
Dr.  Brown  arrived  soon  after.  Upon  Dr. 
Dick's  seeing  the  general,  and  consulting 
a  few  minutes  with  Dr.  Craik,  he  was  bled 
again.  The  blood  came  very  slow,  was 
thick,  and  did  not  produce  any  symptoms 
of  fainting.  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the 
chamber  soon  after,  and  upon  feeling  the 
general's  pulse,  the  physicians  went  out 
together.  Dr.  Craik  returned  soon  after, 
The  general  could  now  swallow  a  little. 
Calomel  and  tartar  emetic  were  adminis- 
tered, but  without  any  effect. 

The  weather  became  severely  cold, 
while  the  group  gathered  nearer  to  the 
couch  of  the  sufferer.  He  spoke  but  little. 
To  the  respectful  and  affectionate  inquir- 
ies of  an  old  family  servant,  as  she 
smoothed  down  his  pillow,  how  he  felt 
himself,  he  answered,  "  I  am  very  ill." 
To  Mrs.  Washington  he  said,  "  Go  to  my 
desk,  and  in  the  private  drawer  you  will 
find  two  papers  —  bring  them  to  me." 
They  were  brought.  Upon  looking  at 
them  he  observed,  "  These  are  my  wills — 
preserve  this  one  and  burn  the  other;" 
which  was  accordingly  done. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  he  ap- 
peared to  be  in  great  pain  and  distress, 
from  the  difficulty  of  breathing,  and  fre- 
quently changed  his  posture  in  the  bed. 
On  these  occasions  I  lay  upon  the  bed  and 
endeavored  to  raise  him,  and  turn  him 
with  as  much  ease  as  possible.  He  ap- 
peared penetrated  with  gratitude  for  my 
attentions,  and  often  said,  "  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  fatigue  you  too  much  ;"  and  upon  my 
assuring  him  that  I  could  feel  nothing  but 
a  wish  to  give  him  ease,  he  replied, 

"  Well,  it  is  a  debt  we  must  pay  to  each 
other,  and  I  hope,  when  you  want  aid  of 
this  kind,  you  will  find  it." 

He  asked  when  Mr.  Lewis  and  Wash- 
ington Custis  would  return.  (They  were 
then  in  New  Kent.)  I  told  him  about  the 


122 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


DEATH   OF  WASHINGTON,   DEC.    14,  1799. 

20th  of   the  month.  ,  raised  him  up.     He  the 


The  general's  serv- 
ant, Christopher, 
was  i'1  t'le  room  dur- 
ing the  day  ;  and  in  the  afternoon,  the 
general  directed  him  to  sit  down,  as  he  had 
been  standing  almost  the  whole  day.  He 
did  so.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, he  had  expressed  a  desire  to  get  up. 
His  clothes  were  put  on,  and  he  was  led  to 
a  chair  by  the  fire ;  he  found  no  relief 
from  that  position,  and  lay  down  again 
about  ten  o'clock.  About  five  o'clock,  Dr. 
Craik  came  again  into  the  room,  and, 
upon  going  to  the  bedside,  the  general  said 
to  him, 

"  Doctor,  I  die  hard,  but  I  am  not  afraid 
to  go.  I  believed,  from  my  first  attack, 
that  I  should  not  survive  it.  My  breath 
can  not  last  long." 

The  doctor  pressed  his  hand,  but  could 
not  utter  a  word.  He  retired  from  the 
bedside,  and  sat  by  the  fire  absorbed  in 
grief.  Between  five  and  six  o'clock,  Dr. 
Dick  and  Dr.  Brown  came  into  the  room, 
and  with  Dr.  Craik  went  to  the  bed,  when 
Dr.  Craik  asked  him  if  he  could  sit  up  in 
the  bed.  He  held  out  his  hand,  and  I 


said  to  the  physicians, 

"  I  feel  myself  going  ;\ 
I  thank  you  for  your\ 
attentions  ;  but  I  pray  you  to  take  no  more 
trouble  about  me.  Let  me  go  off  quietly. 
I  cannot  last  long." 

About  ten  o'clock  he  made  several  at- 
tempts to  speak  to  me  before  he  could 
effect  it.  At  length  he  said, 

"I  am  just  going.  Have  me  decently 
buried;  and  do  not  let  my  body  be  put 
into  the  vault  in  less  than  three  days  after 
I  am  dead." 

I  bowed  assent,  for  I  could  not  speak. 
He  then  looked  at  me  again  and  said, 

"  Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied. 

"'Tis  WELL,"  said  he;  the  last  words 
which  he  ever  uttered  on  earth. 

With  surprising  self-possession  he  pre- 
pared to  die — composing  his  form  at  full 
length,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his  bosom. 

About  ten   minutes   before   he  expired 

(which  was  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock 

Saturday  evening),  his  breathing  became 

easier.     He  lay  quietly ;  he  withdrew  his 

|  hand  from  mine,  and  felt  his  own  pulse. 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


123 


I  saw  his  countenance  change.  I  spoke  to 
Dr.  Craik,  who  sat  by  the  fire.  He  came 
to  the  bedside.  The  general's  hand  fell 
from  his  wrist.  I  took  it  in  mine,  and 
pressed  it  to  my  bosom.  Dr.  Craik  put 
his  hands  over  his  eyes,  and  he  expired 
without  a  struggle  or  a  sigh,  December 
fourteenth,  1799,  in  the  sixty-eighth  year 
of  his  age,  after  an  illness  of  twenty-four 
hours. 

While  we  were  fixed  in  silent  grief, 
Mrs.  Washington,  who  was  sitting  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  asked  with  a  firm  and 
collected  voice,  "  Is  he  gone  ?  "  I  could 
not  speak,  but  held  up  my  hand  as  a  signal 
that  he  was  no  more.  "  'Tis  well,"  said 
she,  in  the  same  voice,  "  all  is  now  over ; 
I  shall  soon  follow  him ;  I  have  no  more 
trials  to  pass  through." 

The  disease  of  which  Washington  died 
was  what  is  now  technically  called  "acute 
laryngitis,"  a  disease  of  very  rare  occur- 
rence. 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  AS  COLONEL. 

About  twelve  o'clock,  the  body  was  car- 
ried down  stairs,  and  laid  out  in  the  large 
drawing-room  ;  the  burial  taking  place  the 
next  Wednesday,  December  18th,  his 
mprtal  remains  being  deposited  in  the 
family  vault  at  Mount  Vernon.  The 
sudden  tidings  of  his  death  fell  like  a  do- 
mestic sorrow  upon  the  hearts  of  the 
people ;  lamentations  and  solemn  obsequies 
filled  the  land, — and,  throughout  the  whole 
world,  the  event  was  heard  with  the  deep- 
est emotion. 

Nearly  forty  years  after  Washington's 


death  and  burial,  his  remains,  together 
with  those  of  his  wife,  were  re-entombed, 
in  order  to  their  being  placed  in  the 
marble  coffins  which  had  been  generously 
offered  for  that  purpose  by  a  patriotic  citi- 
zen of  Philadelphia,  to  the  legal  represen- 
tatives of  the  departed  chieftain.  This 
was  in  1837.  At  the  time  of  Washing- 
ton's interment,  December  18,  1799,  his 
body  was  placed  in  a  mahogany  coffin  lined 
with  lead,  soldered  at  the  joints,  with  a 
cover  of  lead  to  be  soldered  on  after  the 
body  should  be  in  the  vault.  The  coffin 
was  put  into  a  case,  lined  and  covered 
with  black  cloth. 

On  entering  the  tomb  and  examining 
the  coffin,  on  the  occasion  in  question,  it 
was  found  that  the  lid  had  become  dis- 
placed and  broken,  and  the  silver  shield 
which  had  originally  surmounted  the  lid 
had  dropped  down  into  the  case.  At  the 
request  of  Major  Lewis,  who  was  one  of 
the  family  group  to  witness  the  re-entomb- 
ment, the  fractured  part  of  the  lid  was 
turned  over  on  the  lower  part,  exposing  to 
view  a  head  and  breast  of  large  dimen- 
sions, which  appeared,  by  the  dim  light  of 
the  candles,  to  have  suffered  but  little 
from  the  effects  of  time.  The  eye-sockets 
were  large  and  deep,  and  the  breadth 
across  the  temples,  together  with  the  fore- 
head, appeared  of  unusual  size.  There 
was  no  appearance  of  grave-clothes ;  the 
chest  was  broad,  the  color  was  dark,  and 
there  was  the  appearance  of  dried  flesh 
and  skin  adhering  closely  to  the  bones. 

The  ancient  family  vault,  in  which 
Washington's  remains  first  reposed,  was 
situated  under  the  shade  of  a  small  grove 
of  forest  trees,  a  short  distance  from  the 
family  mansion  of  Mount  Vernon,  and 
near  the  brow  of  the  precipitous  bank  of 
the  Potomac.  Diminutive  and  unadorned, 
this  humble  sepulchre  stood  in  a  most 
romantic  and  picturesque  spot,  and,  on  ac- 
count of  its  prominent  locality,  could  be 
distinctly  seen  by  travelers,  as  they  passed 
in  steamboats  up  and  down  the  river. 

But  the  ashes  of  the  father  of  his  coun- 
try were  in  course  of  time  removed  from 
that  place,  to  a  lot  near  the  corner  of  a 


124 


DEATH  OF  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


beautiful  enclosure,  where  the  river  is  con- 
cealed from  view.  This  site  was  selected 
by  Washington  himself,  in  the  later  years 
of  his  life,  for  a  tomb. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  cite  the  opin- 
ions held  by  the  illustrious  men  of  Amer- 
ica concerning  Washington.  Those  opin- 
ions, held  and  shared  by  all,  from  the 
highest  to  the  humblest  citizen,  may  all 
be  summed  up  in  that  grand  apotheosis  of 
eulogy,  namely,  that  he  was  "FiKST  IN 
WAR,  FIRST  IN  PEACE,  FIRST  IN  THE 
HEARTS  OF  His  COUNTRYMEN."  It  will 
be  of  interest,  however,  in  this  place, 
to  glance  at  the  estimate  of  Washing- 
ton held  by  some  of  the  great  historic 
characters  of  the  old  world, — kings,  queens, 
nobles,  and  orators. 

When  Napoleon  was  about  to  embark 
for  Egypt,  some  American  gentlemen  who 
happened  to  be  at  Toulon,  being  anxious 
for  an  interview  with  the  mighty  Corsi- 
can,  obtained  an  introduction  to  him. 
Scarcely  were  the  customary  salutations 
exchanged,  when  he  eagerly  asked — 

"  How  fares  your  countryman,  the  great 
Washington  ?  " 

"  He  was  very  well,  general,  when  we 
left  America,"  replied  the  travelers. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,"  rejoined  the  man  of 
destiny,  "  Washington  can  never  be  other- 
wise than  well.  The  measure  of  his  fame 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  GENERAL  U.  8.  A. 

is  full.  Posterity  will  talk  of  him  with 
reverence  as  the  founder  of  a  great  empire, 
when  my  name  shall  be  lost  in  the  vortex 
of  revolutions." 

Marie  Antoinette,  queen,  of  France,  was 


a  great  admirer  of  the  heroism  and  per- 
sonal character  of  Washington,  though 
not  in  sympathy  with  his  political  princi- 
ples. Wishing  to  send  to  him  a  royal 


PRESIDENT  OF  THE   UNITED  STATES. 


gift  in  token  of  her  appreciation  of  his 
great  merits,  she  consulted  Lafayette  as  to 
the  form  of  presentation,  citing  the  terms 
used  on  similar  occasions,  in  addressing 
kings  and  other  monarchs.  Lafayette 
mildly  objected  to  those  terms,  as  being 
not  altogether  suitable  in  the  present  case, 
saying:  "They,  madam,  were  only  kings. 
Washington  is  the  General  of  a  free  na- 
tion,"— a  sentiment  to  which  the  gentle- 
mannered  queen  at  once  yielded  a  most 
gracious  assent,  in  deference  to  the  ac- 
knowledged pre-eminence  of  Washington. 
Lord  Erskine,  in  writing  to  Washington 
from  London,  said :  "  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  to  introduce  your  august  and  im- 
mortal name  in  a  short  sentence,  which  is 
to  be  found  in  a  book  I  send  you.  I  have 
a  large  acquaintance  among  the  most  val- 
uable and  exalted  classes  of  men ;  but  you 
are  the  only  human  being  for  whom  I  have 
ever  felt  an  awful  reverence.  I  sincerely 
pray  God  to  grant  you  a  long  and  serene 
evening  to  a  life  so  gloriously  devoted  to 
the  universal  happiness  of  the  world." 


DEATH  OF  GEOKGE  WASHINGTON. 


In  the  year  1780,  Frederick  the  Great, 
king  of  Prussia,  presented  General  Wash- 
ington with  a  picture  of  his  majesty  taken 
to  the  life,  and  inscribed  underneath  with 
the  words — 

"From  the  oldest  general  in  Europe,  to 
the  greatest  general  on  earth." 

Charles  James  Fox,  the  renowned  Brit- 
ish premier,  declared  of  Washington,  in 
the  presence  of  parliament :  "  How  infi- 
nitely wiser  must  appear  the  spirit  and 
principles  manifested  in  his  late  addresses 
to  congress  than  the  policy  of  modern  Eu- 
ropean courts  !  Illustrious  man  !  deriving 
honor  less  from  the  splendor  of  his  situa- 
tion than  from  the  dignity  of  his  mind; 
before  whom  all  borrowed  greatness  sinks 
into  insignificance,  and  all  the  potentates 
of  Europe — excepting  the  members  of  our 
own  royal  family — become  little  and  con- 
temptible. I  can  not,  indeed,  help  admir- 
ing the  wisdom  and  fortune  of  this  great 
man.  A  character,  of  virtues  so  happily 
tempered  by  one  another,  and  so  wholly 
unalloyed  by  any  vices,  is  hardly  to  be 
found  on  the  pages  of  history.  For  him  it 
has  been  reserved  to  run  the  race  of  glory, 
without  experiencing  the  smallest  inter- 
ruption to  the  brilliancy  of  his  career." 

When  the  news  of  Washington's  death 
reached  France,  Napoleon  announced  the 
event  to  his  army,  and  ordered  black  crape 
to  be  suspended  from  all  the  flags  and 
standards  in  the  French  service  for  ten 
days ;  and,  on  the  eighth  of  February, 
1800,  M.  DeFontanes,  by  direction  of  Na- 
poleon, pronounced  a  funeral  oration  in 
honor  of  Washington,  in  the  presence  of 
Bonaparte  and  the  great  dignitaries  of  the 
realm,  in  which  oration  the  illustrious  de- 
ceased was  declared  to  be  "  a  character 
worthy  the  best  days  of  antiquity." 

Of  Washington's  personal  appearance, 
little  further  need  be  remarked  than  that 
it  comported  entirely  with  the  solid  gran- 
deur of  his  character.  In  respect  to  phy- 
sique, no  man  could  have  been  better 
formed  for  command.  A  stature  some- 
what exceeding  six  feet,  a  full  but  admir- 
ably-proportioned frame,  calculated  to 
sustain  fatigue,  without  that  heaviness 


which  generally  attends  great  muscular 
strength  and  abates  active  exertion,  dis- 
played bodily  power  of  no  mean  standard. 
A  light  gray  eye  and  full,  firm  forehead, 
Roman  nose  ;  his  mouth  was  peculiar  of  its 


TOMB  OF  WASHIKGTOJT. 

class — the  lips  firm,  and  the  under  jaw 
seeming  to  grasp  the  upper  with  force,  as 
if  its  muscles  were  in  full  action  when  he 
sat  still.  It  was  Washington's  habit  to 
fasten  his  eyes  calmly  and  steadily  upon 
those  who  were  ushered  into  his  presence, 
whether  friend  or  foe,  nor  was  it  a  slight 
ordeal  thus  to  meet  his  penetrating  gaze. 
His  limbs  were  long,  large,  and  sinewy, 
and  his  frame  was  of  equal  breadth  from 
the  shoulders  to  the  hips  ;  his  joints  were 
large,  as  were  also  his  feet,  and  the  great 
size  of  his  hand  never  failed  to  attract 
attention.  His  gait  and  tread  was  that  of 
a  practiced  soldier ;  his  deportment  inva- 
riably grave  and  reserved ;  his  speech 
sparing  and  deliberate.  At  home  he  wore 
the  usual  dress  of  a  citizen ;  on  state  occa- 
sions, he  dressed  in  a  full  suit  of  the  rich- 
est black  velvet,  with  diamond  knee- 
buckles,  and  square  silver  buckles  set 


126 


DEATH  OF  GEOEGE  WASHINGTON. 


upon  shoes  japanned  with  the  most  scru- 
pulous neatness,  black  silk  stockings,  his 
shirt  ruffled  at  the  breast  and  wrists,  a 
light  dress  sword,  his  hair  profusely  pow- 
dered, fully  dressed,  so  as  to  project  at  the 
sides,  and  gathered  behind  in  a  silk  bag, 


ornamented  with  a  large  rose  of  black 
ribbon.  In  the  prime  of  life,  Washington 
stood  six  feet  two  inches,  and  weighed 
nearly  two  hundred  and  twenty  pounds ; 
he  measured  precisely  six  feet  when  at- 
tired for  the  grave. 


XV. 


FATAL   DUEL  BETWEEN   MR.   BURR  AND    GENERAL 
ALEXANDER    HAMILTON.— 1804. 


Fall  of  Hamilton  at  First  Fire.— His  Death  in  Thirty  Hours.— Profound  Sensation  and  Solemn  Obse- 
quies in  all  Parts  of  the  Land.— Mourned  as  one  of  the  Founders  of  the  Republic.— Indictment  of  the 
Assassin  for  the  Crime  of  Murder.— Hamilton's  Brilliant  Public  Life.— Washington's  Right-hand  Man. 
—Champion  of  the  Federalists. — Burr's  Career  in  the  Revolution.— His  Notorious  Debauchery.— Fi- 
nally Dismissed  by  Washington.— Becomes  Vice-President  in  1800.— Deadly  Personal  Hatreds.— 
Criticisms  on  Burr  by  His  Opponents.— Challenge  Sent  to  Hamilton.— Pacific  Explanations  Spurned. 
—Forced  to  Meet  Burr.— Makes  His  Will  in  Anticipation  —Sings  at  a  Banquet  the  Day  Before. — 
Arrival  of  the  Fatal  Hour.— Hamilton's  Mortal  Wound.— What  He  Said  of  the  Event.— Conversation 
Before  Dying.— Partakes  of  the  Communion.— His  Testimony  Against  Dueling. — Heartless  Conduct 
of  Burr. — A  Fugitive  and  an  Outlaw. 


Citsar  to  Antony :    "Let  the  old  ruffian  know 

I  have  many  other  ways  to  die;  meantime. 

Laugh  at  his  challenge."—  ANT.  &  CLIO.,  ACT.  4,  So.  1. 


Y  far  the  most  exciting  personal  transac- 
tion that  occurred  among  the  first  genera- 
tion of  American  statesmen  and  politi- 
cians, was  the  duel  fought  in  July,  1804, 
between  Colonel  Aaron  Burr,  at  that  time 
vice-president  of  the  United  States,  and 
General  Alexander  Hamilton,  formerly 
secretary  of  the  treasury,  during  the  ad- 
ministration of  "Washington ;  and  in  which 
duel  Hamilton  fell  mortally  wounded,  his 
country  being  thus  deprived  of  its  most 
brilliant  ornament. 

Of  transcendent  abilities  and  unsullied 
official  integrity,  it  may  be  said  of  the 
victim  in  this  murderous  tragedy,  that  no 
one  labored  more  efficiently  than  he,  in  the 
organization  of  the  present  federal  govern- 
ment. At  the  age  of  nineteen  he  entered 
the  revolutionary  army,  and  in  1777  was 
appointed  aid-de-camp  of  General  Wash- 
ington, with  the  rank  of  lieutenant-colonel. 

MONCMENT  To~Z5xAXDER  HAMiLToiJT  In  this  capacity  he  served  during  the  re- 

mainder of  the  war,  and  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown  led  in  person  the  detachment 
that  carried  by  assault  one  of  the  British  outworks.  When  his  military  services 
were  no  longer  required,  he  commenced  the  study  of  the  law,  entered  into  its  prac- 


128 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


tice  in  New  York,  and  soon  rose  to  dis- 
tinction. In  1782,  he  was  chosen  a 
member  of  congress ;  in  1787,  a  member  of 
the  convention  that  framed  the  federal 
constitution.  Of  this  work,  as  profound  as 
any,  and  more  generally  intelligible  than 
most,  that  have  been  written  on  the  science 
of  government,  the  larger  portion  pro- 
ceeded from  the  pen  of  Hamilton.  In 
political  life,  he  was  one  of  the  strongest 
champions  of  the  party  which  had  Wash- 
ington at  its  head.  In  1789,  he  was  placed 
in  the  cabinet,  as  secretary  of  the  treasury, 
and  while  in  this  position  rendered  the 
most  efficient  service  to  his  country,  by 
the  establishment  of  an  admirable  system 
of  national  finance.  During  the  insurrec- 
tion in  Pennsylvania,  when  the  people  of 
the  western  counties  took  up  arms  against 
the  general  government,  Hamilton  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  government  force 
destined  to  act  against  them  ;  the  disturb- 
ances being  quelled  without  bloodshed,  ho 
resigned  his  post.  His  last  appearance  in 
military  character  was  again  by  the  side 


Aaron  Burr  was  one  year  the  senior  ol 
Hamilton,  in  point  of  age.  His  father  was 
the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  the  learned  and  d& 
vout  president  of  Princeton  college,  and 


of  Washington,  in  1798,  as  second  in  com- 
mand of  the  army,  which  was  to  be  called 
into  service  in  case  of  hostilities  with 
France. 


his  mother  the  daughter  of  that  eminent 
divine,  Jonathan  Edwards.  Before  Burr 
had  reached  his  third  year,  however,  he 
was  an  orphan.  When  twelve  years  of 
age  he  entered  college,  graduating  at  six- 
teen with  the  highest  reputation.  In 
1775,  while  a  student  of  law,  he  joined  the 
American  army  under  Washington,  and 
such  was  his  ardor  in  his  country's  cause, 
that  lie  joined  Arnold  as  a  volunteer  in 
the  expedition  against  Quebec.  After  his 
arrival  there  he  was  appointed  aid-de-camp 
to  Montgomery,  and  was  by  the  side  of 
that  brave  officer  when  he  fell.  Subse- 
quently, in  1776,  he  was  received  by 
Washington  as  one  of  his  military  family, 
but  was  soon  cast  off  by  that  stern  moral- 
ist in  consequence  of  his  debauchery. 
This  act  of  Washington,  Burr  never  for- 
gave. His  unquestioned  military  talents; 
however,  secured  for  him  the  high  position 
of  lieutenant-colonel  in  1777,  which  he  re- 
tained until  1779,  when  he  was  obliged  to 
relinquish  it  on  account  of  ill-health.  De- 
voting himself  to  law,  he  early  became  one 
of  the  greatest  lawyers  in  New  York,  of 
which  state  he  was  made  attorney-general 
in  1789.  From  1791  to  1797,  he  was  a 
United  States  senator.  In  1800,  he  was  a 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


129 


candidate  for  the  presidency,  and  received 
the  same  number  of  votes  as  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson ;  the  choice  thus  went  to  congress, 
which,  on  the  thirty-sixth  ballot,  elected 
Jefferson'  president  and  Burr  vice-presi- 
dent. In  his  personal  appearance,  Burr 
is  described  as  having  been,  in  the  prime 
of  his  manhood,  a  small  but  well-formed, 
fair-complexioned,  fascinating  man;  his 
face  was  handsome,  by  some  described  as 
striking,  and  eyes  jet-black  and  uncom- 
monly brilliant  and  piercing.  In  public 
lie  had  an  air  of  eminent  authority,  but  in 
the  drawing-room  his  manner  was  singu- 
larly graceful,  gentle,  and  winning.  He 
was  a  wit,  a  beau,  a  good  scholar,  a  pol- 
ished gentleman,  an  unscrupulous  lawyer 
and  politician,  and  a  libertine  in  morals. 
But  whoever  would  read,  in  all  its  varied 
detail,  the  life  of  this  wonderful  man, 
must  consult  the  biographies  of  him  by 
Parton  and  Davis. 

The  animosity  between  Burr  and  Ham- 
ilton, as  the  leaders,  respectively,  of  the 
two  great  political  parties,  was  very  bitter. 
The  history  of  this  quarrel,  in  its  immedi- 
ate bearing  upon  the  fatal  rencontre  in 
which  it  finally  culminated,  is  somewhat 
differently  characterized  by  various  biogra- 
phers, and  perhaps  not  always  impartially. 
Reviewing  the  matter  from  the  date  of 
Washington's  death,  the  fact  is  brought  to 
notice,  that  such  was  the  number  of  seced- 
ers  from  the  federal  party  after  that  un- 
looked-for event,  that  their  opponents  re- 
solved to  adopt  the  bold  policy  of  running 
two  presidential  candidates,  in  order  thus 
to  secure  at  least  the  election  of  a  vice- 
president,  and  in  this  way,  although  a 
choice  by  the  electoral  colleges  was  not 
effected,  the  two  candidates  of  the  demo- 
cratic party  were  brought  before  the  house 
of  representatives  with  claims  apparently 
equal.  In  the  vote  of  this  body  by  states, 
it  soon  appeared  that  the  federal  members 
had  it  in  their  power  to  determine  which 
of  the  two,  Jefferson  or  Burr,  should  be 
president.  Many  violent  federal  parti- 
sans were  inclined  to  throw  a  brand  of 
discord  into  the  republican  party,  by  con- 
ferring the  dignity  on  Burr;  and  he  is 


accused  of  intriguing  with  them  for  the 
purpose. 

It  is  believed  that  Burr,  from  this  time 
forth,  became  Hamilton's  mortal  foe,  and 
watched  for  an  occasion  to  get  rid  of  such 
a  rival.  In  the  careful  account  given  by 
Hildreth,  of  the  subsequent  progress  of 
this  feud, — a  portion  of  which  is  here  cited. 
— he  mentions,  primarily,  the  two  well- 
known  letters  written  by  Dr.  Cooper,  a 
zealous  partisan,  in  one  of  which  it  is 
alleged  that  Hamilton  had  spoken  of  Burr 
as  a  dangerous  man,  who  ought  not  to  be 
trusted  with  the  reins  of  government.  In 
the  other  letter,  after  repeating  the  above 
statement,  Cooper  added  that  he  could  de- 
tail a  still  more  despicable  opinion  which 
General  Hamilton  had  expressed  of  Mr. 
Burr. 

Upon  this  latter  passage,  the  historian 
asserts,  Burr  seized  as  the  means  of  forcing 
Hamilton  into  a  duel.  For  his  agent  and 
assistant  therein  he  selected  William  P. 
Van  Ness,  a  young  lawyer,  one  of  his  most 
attached  partisans,  and  not  less  dark,  de- 
signing, cool,  and  implacable  than  himself. 
Van  Ness  was  sent  to  Hamilton  with  a 
copy  of  Cooper's  printed  letter,  and  a  note 
from  Burr,  insisting  upon  a  prompt  and 
unqualified  acknowledgment  or  denial  of 
the  use  of  any  expressions  which  would 
warrant  Cooper's  assertions. 

Hamilton  expressed  a  perfect  readiness  to 
avow  or  disavow  any  specific  opinion  which 
he  might  be  charged  with  having  uttered ; 
but  added  that  he  never  would  consent  to  be 
interrogated  generally  as  to  whether  he  had 
ever  said  anything  in  the  course  of  fifteen 
years  of  political  competition  to  justify  in- 
ferences which  others  might  have  drawn, 
thus  exposing  his  candor  and  sincerity  te 
injurious  imputations  on  the  part  of  all 
who  might  have  misapprehended  him. 

"  More  than  this,"  said  Hamilton  in  the 
conclusion  of  his  letter  to  Burr,  "  can  not 
fitly  be  expected  of  me;  especially,  it  can 
not  be  reasonably  expected  that  I  shall 
enter  into  any  explanations  upon  a  basis 
so  vague  as  that  you  have  adopted.  I 
trust,  on  more  reflection,  you  will  see  the 
matter  in  the  same  light.  If  not,  I  can 


130 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


only  regret  the  circumstance,  and  must 
abide  the  consequences." 

Burr's  curt,  rude,  and  offensive  reply 
began  with  intimating  that  Hamilton's 
;etter  was  greatly  deficient  in  that  sincer- 
ity and  delicacy  which  he  professed  so 
much  to  value.  The  epithet  in  question, 
in  the  common  understanding  of  it,  im- 
plied dishonor.  It  having  been  affixed  to 
Burr's  name  upon  Hamilton's  authority, 
he  was  bound  to  say  whether  he  had  au- 
thorized it,  either  directly,  or  by  uttering 
expressions  or  opinions  derogatory  to 
Burr's  honor. 

It  was  apparent  from  this  letter,  and  it 
was  subsequently  distinctly  stated  by  Van 
Ness,  that  what  Burr  required  was  a  gen- 
eral disavowal  on  the  part  of  Hamilton,  of 
any  intention,  in  any  conversation  he 
might  ever  have  held,  to  convey  impres- 
sions derogatory  to  the  honor  of  Burr. 
Desirous  to  deprive  Burr  of  any  possible 
excuse  for  persisting  in  his  murderous 
designs,  Hamilton  caused  a  paper  to  be 
transmitted  to  him,  through  Pendleton,  a 
brother  lawyer,  who  acted  as  his  friend  in 
this  matter,  to  the  effect  that,  if  properly 
addressed — for  Burr's  second  letter  was 
considered  too  insulting  to  admit  of  a  reply 
— he  should  be  willing  to  state  that  the 
conversation  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Cooper,  so 
far  as  he  could  recall  it,  was  wholly  in  re- 
lation to  politics,  and  did  not  touch  upon 
Burr's  private  character ;  nor  should  he 
hesitate  to  make  an  equally  prompt  avowal 
or  disavowal  as  to  any  other  particular  and 
specific  conversation  concerning  which  he 
might  be  questioned. 

But  as  Burr's  only  object  was  to  find  a 
pretext  for  a  challenge, — since  he  never 
could  have  expected  the  general  disavowal 
he  demanded,  this  offer  was  pronounced 
unsatisfactory  and  evasive;  and  again,  a 
second  time,  disavowing  in  the  same  breath 
the  charge  made  against  him  of  predeter- 
mined hostility,  Burr  requested  Van  Ness 
to  deliver  a  challenge. 

The  eleventh  of  July,  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  was  the  time  mutually  agreed 
upon  for  the  duel ;  the  place,  Weehawken, 
New  Jersey,  opposite  the  city  of  New  York ; 


the  weapons  to  be  pistols,  and  the  distance 
ten  paces.  In  the  meantime,  Hamilton  and 
Burr  met  once  more  at  the  convivial  board, 
namely,  at  the  annual  banquet  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  the  Cincinnati,  of  which  Hamilton 
was  president  and  Burr  a  member.  It  is 
related  that  on  this  occasion  Hamilton  was 
cheerful,  and  at  times  merry.  He  was 
urged,  as  the  feast  wore  away,  to  sing  the 
only  song  he  ever  sang  or  knew,  the 
famous  old  ballad  of  "The  Drum."  It 
was  thought  afterward,  that  he  was  more 
reluctant  than  usual  to  comply  with  the 
company's  request ;  but  after  some  delay, 
he  said,  "  Well,  you  shall  have  it,"  and 
sang  it  in  his  best  manner,  greatly  to  the 
delight  of  the  old  soldiers  by  whom  he 
was  surrounded.  Burr,  on  the  contrary, 
was  reserved,  and  mingled  little  with  the 
company,  and  held  no  intercourse  what- 
ever with  the  president.  He  was  never  a 
fluent  man,  and  was  generally,  in  the  soci- 
ety of  men,  more  a  listener  than  a  talker. 
On  this  occasion,  his  silence  was,  there- 
fore, the  less  remarked;  yet  it  was  re- 
marked. It  was  observed,  too,  that  he 
paid  no  attention  to  Hamilton's  conversa- 
tion, nor,  indeed,  looked  toward  him,  until 
he  struck  up  his  song,  when  Burr  turned 
toward  him,  and,  leaning  upon  the  table, 
looked  at  the  singer  until  the  song  was 
done. 

The  fatal  morning  came.  Colonel  Burr 
arrived  first  on  the  ground,  as  had  been 
previously  agreed.  He  deliberately  took 
off  his  coat,  surveyed  the  ground,  and 
then  cleared  away  the  bushes,  limbs  of 
trees,  etc.  When  General  Hamilton  ar- 
rived, the  parties  exchanged  salutations, 
and  the  seconds  proceeded  to  make  their 
arrangements.  They  measured  the  dis- 
tance, full  ten  paces,  and  cast  lots  for  the 
choice  of  position,  as  also  to  determine  by 
whom  the  word  should  be  given,  both  of 
which  fell  to  the  seconds  of  Hamilton. 
They  then  proceeded  to  load  the  pistols  in 
each  other's  presence,  after  which  the 
parties  took  their  stations. 

The  gentleman  who  was  to  give  the 
word  now  explained  to  the  parties  the 
rules  which  were  to  govern  them  in  firing, 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


131 


SCENE  OF  THB   BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DCEL,  WEEHAWKEN. 


which  were  as  follows  :  '  The  parties  being 
placed  at  their  stations,  the  second  who 
gives  the  word  shall  ask  them  whether 
they  are  read}' ;  being  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  he  shall  say  Present;  after 
this,  the  parties  shall  present  and  tire 
•when  they  please.  If  one  fires  before 
the  other,  the  opposite  second  shall  say, 
One,  two,  three,  fire  ; — and  he  shall  then 
fire,  or  lose  his  fire.'  He  then  asked  if 
they  were  prepared ;  being  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  he  gave  the  word  Present, 
as  had  been  agreed  on,  and  both  parties 
presented  and  fired  in  succession.  The 
fire  of  Burr  took  effect ;  Hamilton  sprang 
upon  his  toes  with  a  convulsive  movement, 


reeled  a  little  toward  the  heights,  at  which 
moment  he  involuntarily  discharged  his 
pistol,  and  then  fell  headlong  upon  his  face, 
and  remained  motionless  upon  the  ground. 
His  ball  rustled  among  the  branches,  seven 
feet  above  the  head  of  his  antagonist,  and 
four  feet  wide  of  him.  Burr  heard  it, 
looked  up,  and  saw  where  it  had  severed  a 
twig.  Looking  at  Hamilton,  he  beheld 
him  falling,  and  advanced  towards  him 
with  a  manner  and  gesture  that  appeared 
to  be  expressive  of  regret,  but  without 
speaking  turned  about  and  withdrew, 
being  urged  from  the  field  by  his  friend. 
No  further  communication  took  place  be- 
tween the  principals,  and  the  barge  that 


132 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


carried  Colonel  Burr  immediately  left  the 
Jersey  shore  for  New  York. 

Hamilton  was  at  once  borne  away  ten- 
derly in  the  arms  of  Pendleton,  and  his 
necessities  ministered  to  by  Dr.  Hosack. 
He  had,  at  this  moment,  just  strength 
enough  to  say,  "  This  is  a  mortal  wound, 
doctor  ; "  when  he  sank  away,  and  became 
to  all  appearance  lifeless.  "  My  vision  is 
indistinct,"  were  his  first  words.  Soon 
after  recovering  his  sight,  he  happened  to 
cast  his  eye  upon  the  case  of  pistols,  and 
observing  the  one  he  had  used  lying  on 
the  outside,  he  said : 

"  Take  care  of  that  pistol ;  it  is  undis- 
charged, and  still  cocked;  -it  may  go  off 
and  do  harm  ; — Pendleton  knows  (attempt- 
ing to  turn  his  head  towards  him)  that  I  ! 
did  not  intend  to  fire  at  him." 

"  Yes,  I  have  already  made  Dr.  Hosack 
acquainted  with  your  determination  as  to 
that,"  replied  Pendleton. 

On  approaching  the  shore,  he  said,  "  Let 
Mrs.  Hamilton  be  immediately  sent  for ; 
let  the  event  be  gradually  broken  to  her ; 
but  give  her  hopes."  His  friend,  Mr. 
Bayard,  stood  on  the  wharf  in  great  agita- 
tion, and,  on  seeing  Hamilton  lying  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat,  he  threw  up  his  arms 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears  and  lamen- 
tation. Hamilton  alone  appeared  tranquil 
and  composed.  On  being  put  to  bed,  a 
consultation  of  physicians  was  held,  who 
united  in  the  opinion  that  there  was  no 
chance  of  his  recovery.  General  Key,  the 
French  consul,  also  had  the  goodness  to 
invite  the  surgeons  of  the  French  frigates 
then  in  New  York  harbor,  as  they  had  had 
much  experience  in  gun-shot  wounds,  to 
render  their  assistance.  They  immedi- 
ately came,  but  their  opinion  was  unani- 
mous as  to  the  hopelessness  of  the  case. 
The  ball  had  struck  the  second  or  third 
false  rib,  and  fractured  it  about  the  middle ; 
it  then  passed  through  the  liver  and 
the  diaphragm,  and  as  far  as  was  sub- 
sequently ascertained,  lodged  in  the  first 
or  second  lumbar  vertebra,  the  latter  being 
considerably  splintered,  so  that  the  spic- 
alse  we-«  perceptible  to  the  touch  of  the 
finger. 


The  news  of  Hamilton's  fall,  and  prob- 
ably speedy  death,  by  a  duel  with  the  vice- 
president  of  the  United  States,  paralyzed 
the  whole  nation,  as  the  shocking  intelli- 
gence sped  itself  over  the  country.  In 
New  York,  especially,  bulletins,  hourly 
changed,  kept  the  city  in  agitation.  All 
the  circumstances  of  the  catastrophe  were 
told,  and  re-told,  at  every  corner.  The 
thrilling  scenes  that  were  passing  at  the 
bedside  of  the  dying  man,  the  consultation 
of  the  physicians,  the  arrival  of  the  stricken 
family,  Mrs.  Hamilton's  overwhelming 
sorrow,  the  resignation  and  calm  dignity 
of  the  illustrious  sufferer,  his  broken  slum- 
bers during  the  night,  the  piteous  specta- 
cle of  the  seven  children  entering  together 
the  awful  apartment, — all  these  produced 
an  impression  on  the  public  that  can  only 
he  imagined. 

At  General  Hamilton's  request,  Bishop 
Moore  and  Kev.  Dr.  Mason  visited  him  at 
his  bedside.  To  the  former  he  said :  "  My 
dear  sir,  you  perceive  my  unfortunate  sit- 
uation, and  no  doubt  have  been  made 
acquainted  with  the  circumstances  which 
led  to  it.  It  is  my  desire  to  receive  the 
communion  at  your  hands.  I  hope  you 
will  not  conceive  there  is  any  impropriety 
in  my  request.  It  has  for  some  time  past 
been  the  wish  of  my  heart,  and  it  was  my 
intention  to  take  an  early  opportunity  of 
uniting  myself  to  the  church  by  the  recep- 
tion of  that  holy  ordinance."  Bishop 
Moore  observed  to  him,  that  he  must  be 
very  sensible  of  the  delicate  and  trying 
situation  in  which,  as  a  minister,  he  was 
then  placed;  that  however  desirous  he 
might  be  to  afford  consolation  to  a  fellow 
mortal  in  distress,  still  it  was  his  duty  as 
an  ambassador  of  the  gospel,  to  hold  up  the 
law  of  God  as  paramount  to  all  other  law, 
and  that,  therefore,  he  must  unequivocally 
condemn  the  practice  which  had  brought 
him  to  his  present  unhappy  condition. 
Hamilton  acknowledged  the  propriety  of 
these  sentiments,  and  added,  "  /  have  no 
ill-will  against  Colonel  Burr.  I  met  him 
with  a  fixed  determination  to  do  him  no 
harm.  I  forgive  all  that  happened." 
After  some  other  religious  conversation 


BURR  AND  HAMILTON  DUEL. 


133 


incident  to  the  occasion,  he  received  the 
sacrament  with  great  devotion,  expressing 
strong  confidence  in  divine  mercy.  In  his 
interview  with  Dr.  Mason,  he  exhibited 
the  same  spiritual  conviction,  and  repeated 
the  emphatic  testimony  he  had  given  to 
Bishop  Moore,  against  the  barbarous 
custom  of  dueling. 

The  next  day,  Thursday,  at  eleven 
o'clock,  being  about  thirty  hours  after 
receiving  the  fatal  wound,  Hamilton  em- 
braced his  wife  for  the  last  time,  then 
calmly  composed  himself  to  die,  and  ex- 
pired without  a  shudder  or  a  groan,  in  the 
prime  of  his  manhood,  being  forty-seven 
years  of  age. 

The  deatli  of  this  most  illustrious  states- 
man was  universally  deplored,  as  a  na- 
tional calamity  second  only  to  the  death  of 
Washington  himself;  and,  indeed,  on  ac- 
count of  the  tragical  circumstances  under 
which  the  great  patriot  was  brought  to 
his  end,  the  excitement  produced  through- 
out the  country  was,  if  possible,  more 
startling  and  profound  than  that  which 
followed  the  announcement  of  Washing- 
ton's decease.  In  the  city  of  New  York, 
the  most  imposing  funeral  ceremony  ever 
witnessed  in  America  revealed  the  unex- 
ampled grief  that  burdened  the  public 
mind.  All  business  was  suspended,  the 
bells  tolled  in  solemn  requiem,  public  meet- 
ings of  the  various  societies  were  held,  the 
ships  in  the  harbor  hoisted  their  flags  at 
half-mast,  and  sorrow  was  depicted  on 
every  countenance. 

The  indignation  against  Burr  knew  no 
bounds.  His  fixed  determination  to  bring 
Hamilton  within  range  of  his  pistol,  feel- 
ing "sure  of  being  able  to  kill  him," 
caused  his  act  to  be  branded  as  willful 
murder,  and  an  indictment  was  duly  found 
against  him ;  but  in  a  few  days  he  fled,  an 
outlaw  and  an  outcast,  and  thus  eluded 
justice.  Burr's  execrable  heartlessness 
may  be  judged  of,  by  the  note  written  by 
him  to  Mr.  Allston,  his  son-in-law,  in  which 


he  said:  "General  Hamilton  died  yester- 
day. The  malignant  federalists  or  tories, 
and  the  embittered  Clintonians,  unite  in 
endeavoring  to  excite  public  sympathy  in 
his  favor  and  indignation  against  his  an- 
tagonist. Thousands  of  absurd  falsehoods 
are  circulated  with  industry.  The  most 
illiberal  means  are  practiced  in  order  to 
produce  excitement,  and  for  the  moment 
with  effect." 

One  week  before  the  time  fixed  upon  for 
the  duel,  Hamilton  prepared  a  letter  to  his 
wife,  to  be  handed  to  her  in  case  of  his 
death.  In  this  affecting  epistle,  he  assures 
her  that  he  had  striven  by  all  honorable 
means  to  avoid  the  meeting,  and  expects 
to  fall  in  it;  he  entreats  her  forgiveness 
for  the  calamity  his  death  would  bring 
upon  her,  and  conjures  her  to  meet  the 
blow  in  calm  submission  to  providence. 

Hamilton's  widow,  a  woman  of  rare 
excellence  and  dignity,  survived  him  some 
fifty  years.  Once  only  did  she  see  her 
husband's  murderer,  the  circumstances  of 
this  occasion  being  related  as  follows :  In 
the  year  1822,  she  was  traveling  from 
New  York  to  Albany,  on  one  of  the 
boats  plying  the  Hudson.  The  com- 
pany had  been  summoned  to  dinner. 
When  Mrs.  Hamilton  had  almost  reached 
her  seat  in  the  dining-saloon,  on  rais- 
ing her  eyes  she  perceived  Aaron  Burr 
standing  directly  opposite  to  her,  with 
only  the  narrow  width  of  the  table  between 
them.  The  shock  was  too  much  for  her 
system, — she  uttered  a  loud  scream,  fell, 
and  was  carried  in  a  fainting  state  from 
the  apartment.  As  soon  as  she  recovered, 
she  insisted  on  being  set  on  shore  at  the 
first  landing-place,  refusing  to  journey 
further  in  the  same  vessel  with  Burr.  It 
is  said,  that,  after  the  removal  of  Mrs. 
Hamilton  from  the  dining  saloon,  Burr 
deliberately  sat  down  and  ate  a  hearty 
dinner  with  the  utmost  composure.  This 
story,  however,  wears  an  air  of  improba- 
bility. 


XVI. 
TOTAL   SOLAR  ECLIPSE  AT  MID-DAT.— 1806. 


The  Darkness  of  Night  Falls  upon  the  Earth. — Stars  and  Planetg  in  Full  Radiance  — Magnificent  Spec- 
tacle of  the  Glittering  Corona  around  the  Moon  and  the  Brilliant  Rosy  Protuberances  Flaming  from 
the  Sun. — Splendor  of  the  Returning  Night. — Similar  Eclipse  in  1869. — Millions  of  Faces  Turned 
Upward — The  Phenomenon  Viewed  with  Curiosity,  Wonder,  and  Absorbed  Delight — Remarkably 
Fine  Weather. — Serene  and  Cloudless  Heavens. — Business  Pursuits  Abandoned. — The  Moon  Crossing 
the  Sun.— Distinctness  of  the  Lunar  Orb.— Grand,  Dark,  Majestic,  Mighty. — Total  Obscurity  Some 
Fire  Minutes. — Appearance  of  Nature. — Sensations  Produced  in  the  Mind. — Involuntary  Exclama- 
tions.— Effect  on  Birds  and  Animals. — Triumphs  of  Astronomical  Science. — Exquisitely-Constructed 
Instruments. — Revelations  of  the  Spectroscope. — Great  Thermometrical  Changes. — Spots  on  the  Sun 
Examined. — Openings  in  the  Moon. — Peculiar  Color  of  that  Body. — Its  Dark  and  Dismal  Shadows. — 
Search  for  New  Stars. — Meteors 'mid  Earth  and  Moon. — Climax  of  the  Impressive  Scene. 


"The  »un'i  rim  dip*  t  the  sUn  rush  out  I 

With  one  stride  come*  the  d*rk  I  " — COLKBIDOI. 


IMPLE  and  well  known  though  the  fact  may  be,  according  to  the  ex- 
planations of  astronomical  science,  that  a  solar  eclipse  is  caused  by  the 
intervention  of  the  moon  between  the  sun  and  the  earth  during  the 
daytime,  and  that  the  effect  of  such  interposition  is  to  obstruct  the 
sun's  rays — the  light  being  turned  into  darkness  while  the  phenome- 
non lasts — a  total  solar  eclipse  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  sublime  and  awe-inspiring 
spectacle  upon  which  the  eye  of  man  is  permitted  to  gaze.  By  far  the  most  remarkable 
exhibition  of  this  kind,  was  that  which  occurred  June  16,  1806,  when  the  sun  in  the 
northern  states  was  totally  eclipsed  nearly  five  minutes,  about  half  an  hour  before  noon, 
the  width  of  the  moon's  shadow  being  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  or  about 
seventy-five  on  each  side  of  the  central  line.  Since  1806,  only  one  total  eclipse  of  the 
sun  occurred  in  the  Atlantic  States,  namely  in  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  November 
30,  1834;  but  the  eclipse  of  June  16,  1806,  is  regarded  by  astronomers  as  the  most 
memorable  ever  known  in  the  United  States, — that  of  August  7,  1869,  being  the  next 
in  grandeur  and  interest. 

The  accounts  given  by  Chancellor  De  Witt,  of  New  York,  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  others,  of  the  phenomenon  of  1806,  show  that  its  approach  was  most  anx- 
iously watched,  and,  as  it  was  to  be  seen  all  over  Europe  and  North  America,  the  gaze 
of  the  people  of  both  hemispheres  was,  on  that  day,  simultaneously  directed  toward  the 
great  luminary  and  center  of  the  physical  system.  Some  of  the  most  remarkable  observ- 
ations made  by  Dr.  Bowditch,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  will  here  be  given. 

Fortunately  for  the  interests  of  science,  the  day  was  one  of  remarkably  fine  weather, 
scarcely  a  cloud  being  visible  in  any  part  of  the  heavens.  An  assistant  was  seated 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


135 


near  the  doctor,  who  counted  the  seconds 
from  the  chronometer,  thus  enabling  Dr. 
Bowditch  to  mark  down  with  a  pencil  the 
time  when  the  first  impression  was  made 
on  the  sun's  limb,  without  taking  his  eye 
from  the  telescope  till  four  or  five  seconds 
had  elapsed,  and  the  eclipse  had  sensibly 
increased.  As  the  eclipse  advanced,  there 
did  not  appear  to  be  so  great  a  diminution 
of  the  light  as  was  generally  expected,  and 
it  was  not  until  the  sun  was  nearly  cov- 
ered, that  the  darkness  was  very  sensible. 
At  thirty-seven  minutes  and  thirty  seconds 
past  eleven  o'clock,  the  sun's  surface  was 
wholly  covered.  The  last  ray  of  light  from 
the  sun's  limb  disappeared  instantaneously. 
The  whole  of  the  moon  was  then  seen  sur- 
rounded by  a  luminous  appearance  of  con- 
siderable extent,  such  as  had  generally 
been  noticed  in  total  eclipses  of  the  sun. 
This  luminosity,  with  a  twilight  bright- 
ness round  the  horizon,  prevented  the 
darkness  from  being  any  greater  than  it 
was,  during  the  time  that  the  sun's  sur- 
face remained  wholly  covered.  The  de- 
gree of  light  can  be  estimated,  on  such  an 
occasion,  by  the  number  of  stars  visible  to 
the  naked  eye  ;  those  noticed  at  this  time 
were  Capella,  Aldebaran,  Sirius,  Procyon, 
the  three  bright  stars  in  the  belt  of  Orion, 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  IN    1806. 

»nd  the  star  a  in  its  shoulder.  Venus 
and  Mars  were  also  visible.  A  candle  had 
been  provided  to  assist  in  reading  off  the 
seconds  from  the  chronometer,  but,  though 
it  was  not  found  necessary  in  the  garden 
where  these  observations  were  made,  it 
would  have  been  in  the  house  adjoining. 


As  the  time  drew  near  for  witnessing  the 
end  of  the  total  darkness,  there  was  no- 
ticed a  visible  increase  of  light  in  the  at- 
mosphere for  about  two  seconds  before  any 
part  of  the  sun's  limb  was  visible  in  the 
telescope ;  but  at  thirty-two  minutes  and 
eighteen  seconds  past  eleven  o'clock — the 
time  noted  as  that  of  the  end  of  total 
darkness,  —  the  light  burst  forth  with 
great  splendor.  After  this,  the  light  ap- 
peared to  increase  much  faster  than  it 
had  decreased,  and  in  a  short  time  it 
was  as  light  as  in  a  common  cloudy  day, 
the  degree  of  light  continually  increas- 
ing, of  course,  as  the  eclipse  drew  to  a 
close. 

The  impressions  made  by  such  an  exhi- 
bition, upon  different  minds,  are  not  the 
least  interesting  points,  in  a  narrative  like 
this.  Mr.  Cooper,  the  novelist,  though 
but  a  youth  at  the  time  of  the  eclipse,  was 
so  enthusiastic  an  observer  of  the  specta- 
cle, that,  twenty-five  years  after  the  event, 
he  wrote  a  minute  account  of  what  he 
saw  and  how  he  felt  during  the  wonderful 
occurrence.  Mr.  Cooper  states  that,  as  he 
and  the  other  spectators  in  his  company 
first  discerned,  through  their  glasses,  the 
oval  form  of  the  moon  darkening  the 
sun's  light,  an  exclamation  of  delight,  al- 
most triumphant,  burst  involuntarily  from 
the  lips  of  all.  Gradually,  and  at  first 
quite  imperceptibly  to  the  sight,  that  dark 
and  mysterious  sphere  gained  upon  the 
orb  of  light.  As  yet  (continues  Mr. 
Cooper),  there  was  no  change  perceptible 
in  the  sunlight  falling  upon  lake  and 
mountain ;  the  familiar  scene  wore  its 
usual  smiling  aspect,  bright  and  glowing 
as  on  other  days  of  June.  The  people, 
however,  were  now  crowding  into  the 
streets, — their  usual  labors  were  abandoned 
— forgotten  for  the  moment, — and  all  faces 
were  turned  upward.  Gradually  a  fifth, 
and  even  a  fourth,  of  the  sun's  disc  be- 
came obscured,  and  still  the  unguarded 
eye  could  not  endure  the  flood  of  light. 
The  noonday  heat,  however,  began  to 
lessen,  and  something  of  the  coolness  of 
early  morning  returned  to  the  valley. 
Soon,  a  somber,  yellowish,  unnatural  color- 


136 


TOTAL  SOLAE  ECLIPSE. 


ing  was  shed  over  the  country.  A  great 
change  had  taken  place.  The  trees  on  the 
distant  heights  had  lost  their  verdure  and 
their  airy  character,  and  were  taking  the 
outline  of  dark  pictures  graven  upon  an 
unfamiliar  sky. 

The  startling  effect  of  such  an  abnormal 
transition   in   nature,    upon   animals  and 


PROGRESS  OF  THE   SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 

fowls,  and  even  upon  human  beings,  has 
sometimes  been  described  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  excite  well-grounded  suspi- 
cions of  exaggeration,  in  the  minds  of 
those  persons  to  whom  has  been  denied 
the  opportunity  of  personal  observation. 
But  Mr,  Cooper  states  that  "all  living 
creatures  seemed  thrown  into  a  state  of 
agitation.  The  birds  were  fluttering  to 
and  fro,  in  great  excitement;  they  seemed 
to  mistrust  that  this  was  not  the  gradual 
approach  of  evening,  and  were  undecided 
in  their  movements.  Even  the  dogs  be- 
came uneasy,  and  drew  closer  to  their  mas- 
ters. The  eager,  joyous  look  of  interest 
and  curiosity,  which  earlier  in  the  morning 
had  appeared  in  almost  every  countenance, 
was  now  changed  to  an  expression  of  won- 
der, or  anxiety,  or  thoughtfulness,  accord- 
ing to  the  individual  character.  Every 
house  now  gave  up  its  tenants.  As  the 
light  failed  more  and  more  with  every  pass- 
ing second,  the  children  came  flocking 
about  their  mothers  in  terror.  The  women 
themselves  were  looking  about  uneasily  for 
their  husbands.  The  men  were  very  gen- 
erally silent  and  grave.  Many  a  laborer 
left  his  employment  to  be  near  his  wife 
and  children,  as  the  dimness  and  darkness 


increased.  It  was  one  of  those  entirely  un- 
clouded days,  less  rare  in  America  than  in 
Europe.  The  steadily-waning  light,  the 
gradual  approach  of  darkness,  became  the 
more  impressive  as  we  observed  this  abso- 
lutely transparent  state  of  tho  heavens.  The 
birds,  which  a  quarter  of  an  hour  earlier 
had  been  fluttering  about  in  great  agita- 
tion, seemed  now  to  bo  convinced  that 
night  was  at  hand.  Swallows  were  dimly 
seen  dropping  into  the  chimneys,  the 
martins  returned  to  their  little  boxes,  the 
pigeons  flew  homo  to  their  dove-cots,  and 
through  the  open  door  of  a  small  barn  we 
saw  the  fowls  going  to  roost.  The  usual 
flood  of  sunlight  had  now  become  so  much 
weakened,  that  we  could  look  upward  long, 
and  steadily,  without  the  least  pain.  The 
sun  appeared  like  a  young  moon  of  three 
or  four  days  old,  though  of  course  with  a 
larger  and  more  brilliant  crescent.  One 
after  another,  tho  stars  came  into  view, 
more  rapidly  than  in  the  evening  twilight, 
until  perhaps  fifty  stars  appeared  to  us,  in 
a  broad  dark  zone  of  the  heavens,  crown- 
ing the  pines  on  the  western  mountain. 
This  wonderful  vision  of  the  stars,  during 
tha  noontide  hours  of  day,  filled  the  spirit 
with  singular  sensations.  Suddenly,  one 
of  my  brothers  shouted  aloud,  "The 
moon  ! "  Quicker  than  thought,  my  eye 
turned  eastward  again,  and  there  floated 
the  moon,  distinctly  apparent,  to  a  degree 
that  was  almost  fearful.  The  spherical 
fona,  the  character,  the  dignity,  the  sub- 
stance of  the  planet,  were  clearly  revealed, 
as  I  have  never  beheld  them  before,  or 
since.  It  looked  grand,  dark,  majestic, 
and  mighty.  Darkness  like  that  of  early 
night  now  fell  upon  the  village.  A  few 
cows,  believing  that  night  had  overtaken 
them,  were  coming  homeward  from  the 
wild  open  pastures  ;  the  dew  was  falling 
perceptibly,  and  the  thermometer  must 
have  fallen  many  degrees  from  the  great 
heat  of  the  morning.  The  lake,  the  hills, 
and  the  buildings  of  the  little  town,  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  darkness.  All  labor 
had  ceased.  The  plaintive  note  of  the 
whippowil  was  distinctly  heard.  A  bat 
came  flitting  about  our  heads.  Many  stars 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


137 


were  now  visible.  At  twelve  minutes  past 
eleven,  the  moon  stood  revealed  in  its 
greatest  distinctness — a  vast  black  orb,  so 
nearly  obscuring  the  sun  that  the  face  of 
the  great  luminary  -was  entirely  and  abso- 
lutely darkened,  though  a  corona  of  rays 
of  light  appeared  beyond.  The  gloom  of 
night  was  upon  us.  A  breathless  intensity 
of  interest  was  felt  by  all.  A  group  of 
silent,  dusky  forms  stood  near  me;  one 
emotion  appeared  to  govern  all.  Three 
minutes  of  darkness,  all  but  absolute, 
elapsed.  They  appeared  strangely  length- 
ened by  the  intensity  of  feeling,  and  the 
flood  of  overpowering  thought  which  filled 
the  mind."  Mr.  Cooper  concludes  this 
record  of  his  pleasing  recollections,  by 
stating  some  of  the  appearances  accompa- 
nying the  restoration  of  light,  and  the 
joyous  manifestations  on  the  part  of  those 
who  witnessed  it. 

The  calculations  made  and  recorded  by 
Bowditch,  show  that  the  beginning  of  the 
eclipse  was  at  six  minutes  and  twenty-four 
seconds  past  ten  o'clock  ;  the  beginning  of 
total  darkness  was  at  twenty-five  minutes 
and  twenty-six  seconds  past  eleven,  and 
it  ended  at  thirty  minutes  and  fourteen 
seconds  past  eleven;  the  eclipse  ended 
at  fifty  minutes  and  forty-two  seconds 
past  twelve ;  duration  of  the  eclipse,  two 
hours,  forty-four  minutes,  eighteen  sec- 
onds ;  duration  of  the  total  darkness,  four 
minutes  and  forty-eight  seconds.  In  the 
engraved  representation  of  this  magnifi- 
cent and  solemn  spectacle,  the  luminous 
ring  round  the  moon  is  exactly  as  it  ap- 
peared in  the  middle  of  the  eclipse.  The 
edge  of  the  moon  was  strongly  illumin- 
ated, exhibiting  the  brilliancy  of  polished 
silver. 

But,  though  the  eclipse  of  1806  was,  at 
least  in  the  duration  of  its  totality,  mem- 
orable above  all  precedent,  to  American 
observers,  the  total  eclipse  of  August  sev- 
enth, 1869,  was  destined  to  be  more  im- 
portant in  a  scientific  point  of  view,  and  to 
fill  a  more  prominent  place  in  history,  on 
account  of  the  great  progress  in  astronomi- 
cal knowledge  and  the  corresponding  im- 
provement in  all  the  instruments  of  tele- 


scopic observation,  characterizing  the  lapse 
of  more  than  three-score  years. 

Beginning  in  the  Pacific  ocean,  just  east 
of  Yeddo,  the  capital  of  Japan,  at  sunrise 
there,  the  shadow's  central  point  first 
struck  the  earth  in  the  Altair  mountain 
range  in  Eussian  Asia,  one  hundred  and 
sixty-five  and  a  half  degrees  west  from 
Washington,  then  passing  in  a  northward 
curve  still,  entered  United  States  territory 
in  Alaska,  near  Prince  William's  sound, 
at  the  hour  of  noon.  Thence  it  rapidly 
traversed  British  Columbia,  hit  the  center 
of  Montana's  northern  line,  struck  the 
Mississippi  river  near  Sioux  City,  Iowa, 
passed  through  Illinois  just  north  of 
Springfield,  shaded  segments  of  Indiana, 
Kentucky,  Virginia,  Tennessee,  and  North 
Carolina,  and  ended  its  totality  in  mid- 
ocean.  The  course  of  the  eclipse  was  in 
the  form  of  an  ellipse,  and  the  extreme 
limits  of  the  obscuration  embraced  nearly 
one-half  the  earth's  circumference  ;  while 
the  central  circular  patch  of  darkness  was 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  miles  in 
diameter. 

Never  were  more  extensive  preparations 
made  by  governments  and  men  of  science, 
to  have  thorough  observations  of  a  solar 


TOTAL  ECLIPSE  IN  1869. 

eclipse,  than  at  this  time,  and  never  was 
the  weather  more  propitious  for  such  an 
event  to  be  noted,  in  all  its  phenomena. 

At  Springfield,  Illinois,  one  of  the  most 
available  spots  for  observation,  Professor 
Peirce,  of  Harvard  College,  was  in  attend- 
ance. When  the  total  obscuration  took 
place,  the  heavens  and  earth  presented  a 


138 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


scene  of  awful  sublimity.  A  brilliant 
amber-colored  corona  appeared  around  the 
sun  and  inooii,  shooting  rays  of  light  out- 
ward in  all  directions,  when  the  whole  hori- 
zon was  illuminated  with  light  of  the  same 
color.  The  planets  Mercury  and  Venus,  and 
a  number  of  fixed  stars,  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble, but  no  planetary  orbs  between  Mercury 
and  the  sun  were  discovered.  A  brilliant 
rose-colored  flame,  or  protuberance,  was 
noticed  on  the  western  limb  of  the  sun  dur- 
ing the  period  of  total  obscuration.  The 
phenomenon,  known  as  Bailey's  beads,  was 
also  distinctly  witnessed.  According  to 
Prof.  Peirce,  the  last-named  appearance  is 
occasioned  by  the  refraction  of  light,  and 
the  corona,  or  halo,  at  the  time  of  totality, 
by  the  sun's  atmosphere. 

Des  Moines,  Iowa,  afforded  another  most 
favorable  locality  for  the  presence  of 
astronomers,  a  slight  haze  only  interfering 
to  prevent  satisfactory  search  for  the  plan- 
ets supposed  to  exist  inside  the  orbit  of 
Mercury.  Professor  Safford's  observations 
showed  that  the  first  contact  occurred  at 
three  o'clock,  forty-three  minutes,  forty- 
three  seconds  ;  the  commencement  of  the 
total  obscurity  was  at  four  o'clock,  forty- 
five  minutes,  thirty  seconds,  and  its  end 
was  at  four  o'clock,  forty-eight  minutes, 
twenty-two  seconds ;  the  last  contact  was 
at  five  o'clock,  forty-five  minutes,  eleven 
seconds. 

The  points  of  time  thus  noted  by  Pro- 
fessor Safford,  were  from  six  to  twenty- 
two  seconds  later  than  calculated,  according 
to  Washington ;  E.  P.  Hiinenas  and  Pro- 
fessor Hillyard  observing  it.  A  discrep- 
ancy was  also  noticed  between  the  calcu- 
lation and  observation  of  the  corona.  It 
was  nearly  rhomboidal  in  form,  and  very 
distinct  and  extended,  at  some  points  half 
a  degree  beyond  the  edge  of  the  sun's 
disc.  The  rose-colored  protuberances  ap- 
peared to  the  number  of  five  or  six,  the 
greatest  being  on  the  sun's  south-western 
quarter.  Professor  Harkness's  observa- 
tions of  the  protuberances,  in  the  spectro- 
scope, showed  a  different  spectra  for  each. 
But  a  single  band  was  thrown  by  the  cor- 
ona. Professor  Eastman's  observations  of 


the  thermometer  showed  a  fall  of  thirteen 
degrees  in  the  temperature,  during  the 
progress  of  the  eclipse.  Venus  and  Mer- 
cury could  be  plainly  seen,  and  the  dark- 
ness exceeded  that  of  the  night.  But  the 
most  interesting  feature  in  the  aspect  of 
the  sun  was  the  protuberances  or  beads. 
The  largest  one  was  semi-circular  in  shape, 
with  a  finger  extending  about  one-eighth 
-part  of  the  sun's  diameter,  directly  down- 
ward as  one  looked.  Another  right  limb 
was  shaped  much  like  two  horns  cf  an  ante- 
lope. The  greatest  length  of  the  corona 
was  in  the  direction  of  the  elliptic.  Valu- 
able observations  were  also  made  here  by 
Professors  Peters,  Eraser,  Eogers,  Norton, 
and  Lane. 

Professors  Hough  and  Murray  made 
some  valuable  observations  at  Mattoon, 
Illinois,  one  of  their  instruments  being  pro- 
vided with  means  for  accurately  measuring 
the  diversions  of  the  protuberances  on  the 
sun  or  corona.  When  the  sun  became 
totally  obscured,  the  darkness  was  equal  to 
that  of  a  moonlight  night,  and  the  temper- 
ature was  forty-two  degrees  cooler  than  one 
hour  before.  Six  spots  were  visible  on  the 
surface  of  the  sun  before  the  eclipse,  two 
of  which  were  very  prominent,  and  the 
others  much  less.  The  cusps  on  the  moon 
had  a  ragged  and  blurred  appearance,  and, 
near  them,  Bailey's  beads  were  seen  by  all 
observers,  extending  through  an  arc  of 
fifty  degrees.  The  moment  the  eclipse 
became  total,  the  flame-like  protuberances 
were  seen  with  wonderful  distinctness,  one 
very  large  on  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun, 
and  three  nearly  as  large  on  the  upper 
limbs,  while  at  least  seven  or  eight  of 
them  in  all  were  visible.  The  one  on  the 
right  hand,  or  lower  limb,  had  somewhat 
the  appearance  of  a  full-rigged  ship  with 
sails  set.  In  its  part  nearest  the  moon 
were  two  or  three  jet  black  spots.  To  the 
naked  eye,  it  seemed  as  though  there  were 
openings  in  the  moon,  two  on  the-east  side 
and  one  on  the  south-west  side.  Just  after 
the  total  obscurity,  through  the  openings, 
the  lurid  glow  of  the  sun  was  plainly  visi- 
ble. The  corona  was  not,  as  generally 
described,  a  halo  of  light  surrounding  the 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


139 


moon,  but  appeared  iu  the  shape  of  five 
forked  prongs  on  the  upper  circumference 
of  the  moon.  These  points  presented  a 
radiant  appearance.  The  generally-re- 
ceived theory  regarding  this  corona — that 
it  is  the  atmosphere  of  the  sun — did  not 
seem  to  be  sustained  by  the  observations 
made  at  this  point.  Although  search  was 
made,  no  planetary  bodies  were  observed 
between  Mercury  and  the  sun.  During  the 
totality  phase,  Mercury,  Venus,  Regulus, 
Mars,  Saturn,  Denebata,  and  other  stars, 
appeared  in  full  view.  The  temperature 
in  the  shade,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
eclipse,  was  seventy-seven  degrees  ;  during 
the  totality,  forty-five  degrees  ;  and  at  the 
end  of  the  eclipse,  it  had  risen  to  seventy 
degrees.  At  three  o'clock  and  forty  min- 
utes, in  the  sun,  on  the  grass,  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  one  hundred  degrees.  At 
a  few  minutes  after  four,  it  rose  to  one 
hundred  and  two  degrees,  while  during  the 
totality  it  fell  to  sixty,  but  subsequently 
rose  to  eighty. 

Dr.  B.  A.  Gould  and  Professor  Coffin 
had  charge  of  the  observations  made  at 
Burlington,  Iowa,  by  direction  of  the 
United  States  government,  with  whom 
were  also  associated  Professors  Morton, 
Mayer,  Hines,  watson,  Merriman,  Van 
Fleck,  Johnson,  and  others,  either  as  ob- 
servers or  visitors.  Two  points  were  paid 
special  attention  to  at  this  place,  namely, 
a  search  for  those  planets  which  Leverrier 
supposed  to  exist  between  the  sun  and 
Mercury,  and  the  character  of  the  corona. 

For  this  purpose,  a  telescope  of  peculiar 
construction  was  employed,  being  of  the 
least  magnifying  power  combined  with  the 
greatest  intensity  of  light  possible.  The 
attempts  at  measuring  the  corona  were 
necessarily  vague,  but  its  height  above  the 
edge  of  the  moon  was  computed  at  full  six- 
teen minutes, —  some  four  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  miles, — while  the  stream- 
ers, or  longer  projections  of  its  light, 
extended  some  thirty  minutes  beyond  the 
surface,  the  whole  diameter  of  the  sun 
being  thirty-two  minutes.  The  color  of 
the  moon  during  the  total  obscuration  was 
observed,  and  decided  to  be  not  jet  black, 


as  represented  by  some,  but  a  dark  slat« 
color.  The  corona  was  an  exquisitely  pure 
white,  which,  as  it  faded  into  the  dark 
background  of  the  sky,  became  gray.  It 
was  visible  one  minute  and  twenty-six 
seconds  before  totality,  and  one  minute 
after,  and  was  extremely  variable  in  sym- 
metry of  form.  Three  sketches  were 
taken  in  less  than  three  minutes  of  the 
duration,  in  which  the  corona  showed 
marked  change  of  outline.  The  protuber- 
ances commonly  called  rosy,  by  observers 
at  other  places,  here  looked  white  to  the 
naked  eye,  with  an  opera-glass  slightly  ro- 
seate, and  with  the  telescope  red.  At  the 
moment  of  totality,  the  planets  were  visi- 
ble, ranged  in  perfect  brilliancy ;  Mercury, 
ruddy  as  Mars,  and  Arcturus  and  Regulus, 
fixed  stars  of  the  first  magnitude,  were 
plain  to  the  unassisted  eye.  The  right 
protuberance  on  the  sun's  lower  limb  had 
a  cellular  or  honey-combed  appearance,  not 
like  a  flame. 

In  the  search  made  at  Burlington  for 
intra-mercurial  planets,  the  light  was  shut 
off  of  the  corona  by  means  of  occulting 
circles,  and  the  region  was  carefully  stud- 
ied. Search  was  made  for  the  star  Pi  Le- 
onis,  a  fixed  star  of  five  and  eight-tenths 
magnitude,  fifty  minutes  distance  from  the 
sun,  and  it  was  actually  seen,  yet  so  faint, 
that,  if  it  had  not  been  known  to  be  there, 
it  could  not  have  been  discovered.  II 
there  were  any  star  of  the  fifth  or  sixth 
magnitude  there,  it  would  have  been 
observed ;  but  no  such  star  could  be 
detected. 

Great  preparations  were  made  at  Shel- 
byville,  Kentucky,  for  a  complete  observ- 
ance of  the  phenomenon.  One  of  the 
most  interesting  discoveries  made  here,  by 
Professor  Winlock,  at  the  spectroscope, 
was  that  of  eleven  bright  lines  in  the 
spectrum  of  the  protuberances  of  the  sun, 
instead  of  the  smaller  number  hitherto 
determined.  He  also  observed  a  shower 
of  meteors  between  the  earth  and  moon. 
The  beautiful  protuberances  appeared  as 
red  flames,  and  were  seen  by  the  naked 
eye.  Bailey's  beads,  as  well  as  the  dark 
and  dismal  shadows  of  the  moon,  sailing 


140 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


away  through  the  air,  were  noted.  Mr. 
Searle,  whose  specialty  it  was  to  search 
for  intra-mercurial  planets,  did  not  succeed 
in  finding  any,  reporting  nothing  fainter 
than  Regulus  near  the  sun.  Some  mo- 
ments before  the  total  phase,  the  usual 
phenomena  of  distraction  among  the  birds 
of  the  air  and  the  cattle  occurred.  Six 
minutes  before  totality,  a  deathly  ashen 
hue  overspread  the  countenances  of  all, 


ECLIPSE,   AS   SEEN  IN   BRAZIL. 

and  for  a  while  the  faint-hearted  were 
almost  terrified.  The  general  phenomena 
at  all  the  places  where  the  eclipse  was 
complete,  or  nearly  so,  were  the  vacilla- 
tion of  the  wind,  the  deep,  strange  shadow, 
the  yellowish  pink  atmosphere  in  the  west, 
the  flickering  and  wavy  appearance  of  the 
sun's  rays  when  the  eclipse  was  at  its 
height,  the  chilly  feeling,  the  disturbance 
among  the  birds  and  fowls,  and  the  sight 
of  certain  planets  with  the  naked  eye. 

At  Newbern,  North  Carolina,  the  ther- 
mometer fell  ten  and  one-half  degrees, 
during  the  time  from  first  contact  to  total 
obscuration.  The  sky  was  intensely  blue, 
at  totality,  and  studded  with  glittering 
stars,  while  the  north-west  glowed  with  a 
deep  crimson  orange  hue.  Around  the 
black  body  of  the  moon  glowed  a  ring  of 
molten  silver,  whence  radiated  the  corona, 
an  immense  halo ;  and,  just  as  the  last 
rays  of  the  sun  disappeared,  this  halo, 
with  prominent  projections  like  a  huge 
star,  burst  out  all  around  the  disc  of  the 
moon,  forming  a  most  impressive  climax 
to  the  whole  phenomenon  ;  directly  at  the 
bottom,  glowed  with  intense  brilliancy  a 


rose-colored  projection,  visible  to  the  naked 
eye ;  a  few  seconds  more,  and  another 
glittered  at  the  extreme  right — and  then 
another,  and,  successively,  six  or  more 
pale  ruby  brilliants  burned  with  dazzling 
effulgence  in  their  silver  setting;  a  second 
or  two  more,  and  the  silvering  on  the  right 
melted  into  golden  beads;  another,  and 
the  glorious  sunlight  flashed  forth.  The 
corona  disappeared.  The  northern  sky 
was  radiant  with  a  new  day-break  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  dark  shadow 
of  the  moon  swept  southward,  and  the 
chilly  gloominess  rolled  away  into  the 
southern  sky.  The  small  amount  of  light 
that  fell  upon  the  trees  and  buildings,  just 
before  and  after  the  total  obscuration, 
lighted  them  up  with  a  brilliancy  most 
peculiar;  the  light  was  more  diffusive 
than  moonlight,  and  the  shadows  were 
more  distinctly  marked  and  visible.  It 
was  a  pale  golden  light ;  the  edges  of  the 
distant  woods  were  more  apparent  than  in 
the  full  sunlight,  each  tree  seeming  to 
stand  out  by  itself, — the  nearest  approach 
to  such  a  light  being  that  known  as  the 
calcium,  the  latter,  however,  being  white 
instead  of  pale  golden.  At  the  instant  of 
complete  obscuration,  when  the  corona 
flashed  around  the  dark  disc  of  the  moon, 
there  also  flashed  into  view  the  larger  stars 
and  planets.  Venus,  twice  an  evening 
star  in  one  day,  hung  half-way  down  from 
the  zenith ;  near  the  sun  glistened  a  star 
of  the  first  magnitude,  Eegulus ;  while 
overhead  the  intense  blue  sky  was  full  of 
them. 

Much  scientific  interest  centered  around 
the  expedition  sent  by  government  to  the 
new  and  distant  territory  of  Alaska.  This 
expedition  left  Sitka,  July  15th,  in  an 
open  boat,  for  the  Chilkah  river,  but,  in 
consequence  of  bad  weather,  it  was  eleven 
days  in  reaching  the  positions  selected — 
only  twenty  miles  from  the  central  path  of 
totality.  It  was  found  impracticable  to 
carry  the  instruments  and  provisions  over 
Iron  Mountain  range,  for  the  determina- 
tion of  the  latitude  and  longitude  and  the 
magnetic  variation  obtained,  before  the 
date  of  the  eclipse.  The  seventh  of 


TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE. 


141 


August  was  the  cloudiest  day  experienced, 
but  breaks  in  the  clouds  enabled  the  party 
to  watch  different  phases,  and  the  begin- 
ning of  totality  was  accurately  noted.  In- 
stantly after  obscuration,  rose-colored 
flames  were  visible  to  the  unassisted  eye, 
and  their  extent,  position,  elevation,  and 
approximity,  measured  on  the  south-east 
and  south-west  parts  of  the  sun's  limb. 
The  corona  was  visible  over  a  part  of  the 
limb  only.  The  end  of  the  eclipse  was  not 
seen,  but  the  whole  picture  was  magnifi- 
cent. The  phenomena  of  coming  darkness 
and  growing  light  were  very  marked  along 
the  course  of  the  valley.  The  Hon.  W. 
H.  Seward,  and  his  accompanying  tourists, 
visited  Professor  Davidson's  camp,  and 
watched  with  intense  interest  and  solemn 
delight  the  phases  of  the  eclipse,  particu- 
larly the  rose-colored  flames  and  corona. 
A  party  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  had  the 
best  view  of  the  totality ;  the  clouds  broke, 
and  a  large  clear  space  enabled  them  to  see 
the  flames  and  corona,  in  their  marvelous 
beauty,  also  the  planet  Mercury,  and  stars 
of  the  fourth  magnitude.  At  Sitka,  the 
eclipse  was  watched  through  broken 
clouds.  The  Indians  were  fearfully 
alarmed,  and  hid  themselves  in  their 
houses,  or  took  to  the  bushes. 

As  usual,  on  the  occurrence  of  such  a 


wonderful  sight,  some  strange  incidents 
transpired.  In  his  account  of  the  observa- 
tions made  by  Professor  Watson,  at  Mount 
Pleasant,  Iowa,  Professor  Tyler  narrates 
the  case  of  a  good  man  who  went  round 
the  town  for  days  beforehand,  and  de- 
nounced the  impiety  of  the  scientific  pro- 
ceedings going  on — that  the  astronomers 
were  profanely  attempting  to  pry  into 
God's  secrets,  and  that  he  had  veiled  his 
sun  in  order  to  baffle  them.  The  cloudy 
weather  which  continued  up  to  the  last 
day  seemed  to  give  some  support  to  his 
declarations ;  but,  notwithstanding  his 
assertion  that  God  would  keep  his  rain 
a-going,  and  prevent  the  use  of  their  irre- 
ligious telescopes,  the  day  cleared  off  with 
the  utmost  splendor.  Another  local 
prophet  announced  that  the  eclipse  was  a 
judgment  upon  the  world  for  its  abomina- 
tions, and  that  the  path  of  its  shadow  over 
the  earth  would  be  marked  by  utter  blight. 
But  these  deluded  prophets  of  evil  were, 
indeed,  rare  exceptions ;  millions  of  man- 
kind watched,  with  reverential  and  de- 
lighted satisfaction,  the  obedience  of  the 
two  great  luminaries  to  the  eternal  laws 
which  govern  their  existence ;  and  Science, 
the  hand-maid  and  interpreter  of  Nature, 
gave  new  assurance  of  her  sublime  and 
beneficent  mission. 


XVII. 
CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  AARON  BURR.— 1806. 


Lawless  Scheme  of  Conquest  and  Dominion  at  the  South-west.  —  A  New  Empire  Contemplated, 
with  Burr  as  Sovereign.  —  Seizure  of  His  Flotilla  and  Dispersion  of  His  Men  when  Ready 
to  Embark,  by  the  Federal  Forces.  —  Capture  and  Arraignment  of  Burr  for  High  Trea- 
son. —  Reckless  Character  of  Burr.  —  His  Unscrupulous  Ambitions.  —  Enlists  Blennerhassett  in 
His  Plans.  —  Their  Expedition  Arranged  —  Mexico  the  Ultimate  Point.  —  Discovery  of  the 
Whole  Plot.  —  Its  Complete  Frustration.  —  Burr  Flees  in  Disguise.  —  Scene  at  His  Arrest.  — 
Attempt  to  Escape.  —  The  Iron-hearted  Man  in  Tears.  —  His  Social  Fascination.  —  Preparations 


for  l'ie  ^ria'-  —  I"  Lega'  an(^  Forensic  In- 
terest.  —  Acquittal  on  Technical  Grounds.  — 
Shunned  as  a  Man  of  Infamy.  —  Devotion  of 
His  Daughter  Theodosia.  —  Lifelong  and  Un- 
alterable Love.  —  Her  Mysterious  Fate.  — 
Burr's  Anguish  and  Agony.  —  A  Moral 
Wreck  and  Warning. 


"  His  country's  curse,  his  children's  shame. 
Outcast  of  virtue,  peace,  and  fame." 


S  events  proved,  it  remained  for  Aaron  Burr  to  add  one  more 
political  crime  to  his  corrupt  career  as  a  public  man,  and  one 
more  dark  chapter  to  his  country's  history.  Staggering  under  the  weight  of  ob- 
loquy and  disgrace  brought  down  upon  him  by  his  cold-blooded  disposal  of  Alex- 
ander Hamilton,  on  the  fatal  plains  of  Weehawken,  he  still  sought  some  means  of 
triumphing  over  his  enemies  and  attaining  distinction  and  power.  Strong  and 
resolute  in  the  operations  of  his  ever-active  mind,  his  ambition  was  equally  restless 
and  far-reaching.  Abandoned  by  his  once-admiring  political  associates,  he  became  an 
exile,  in  one  of  the  then  far-off  western  states,  his  brain  teeming  with  schemes  of 
wealth,  conquest,  and  dominion. 

In  the  autumn  of  1806,  President  Jefferson  learned  that  mysterious  proceedings 
were  going  on  along  the  Ohio :  boats  preparing,  stores  of  provisions  collecting,  and 
a  number  of  suspicious  characters  in  movement.  A  confidential  agent  sent  by  the 
government  authorities  to  the  spot,  warned  the  president  that  Burr  was  the  prime 
mover;  and  General  Wilkinson,  who  commanded  near  New  Orleans,  intimated  that 
propositions  of  a  daring  and  dangerous  import  had  been  transmitted  to  him  by 
that  personage.  The  ostensible  pretext  was,  the  forming  of  a  large  agricultural 
settlement  on  the  banks  of  the  Washita  in  Louisiana,  a  tributary  of  the  Mississippi ; 
but  the  various  preparations,  the  engagement  for  six  months  only,  the  purchase 
and  building  of  boats,  the  provision  of  muskets  and  bayonets,  pointed  to  something 
of  a  very  different  character — either  the  formation  of  the  western  territory  into  a 
separate  government,  or  an  expedition  against  Mexico,  sought  to  be  justified  by  a 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  BURR. 


143 


boundary  difference  that  had  arisen  with 
Spain.  In  fact,  the  erection  of  a  new 
empire,  with  Burr  at  its  head. 

Burr's  chief  associate  in  the  plans  which 
he  had  thus  formed  was  Harman  Blenner- 
hassett,  and  the  story  of  their  acquain- 
tance, friendship  and  confederation, 
borders  strongly  on  the  romantic.  Blen- 
nerhassett  was  one  of  the  Irish  patriots 
who  were  compelled  to  flee  from  Ireland 
after  their  attempt  to  liberate  themselves 
from  the  thralldom  of  England,  and  was 
the  classmate  and  friend  of  the  celebrated 
Thomas  Addis  Emrnett.  He  was  pos- 
sessed of  a  large  amount  of  property,  the 
greater  part  of  which  he  was  fortunate 
enough  to  render  available  in  money 
before  his  departure.  Disgusted  with  the 
corruption  of  courts,  and  glad  to  escape 
the  turmoil  of  politics,  he  sought  retire- 
ment in  the  western  wilderness,  on  a  beau- 
tiful island  in  the  Ohio,  then  on  the 
borders  of  civilization.  Here  he  built  a 
princely  mansion,  and  embellished  it  in  a 
most  costly  manner.  Situated  on  the 
borders  of  Virginia,  Kentucky  and  Ohio, 
he  had  access  to  very  refined  society,  with 
which  it  was  his  custom  constantly  to 
intermingle  and  exchange  civilities.  His 
hospitality  was  unbounded  ;  and,  dealt  out 
as  it  was  by  his  own  chivalric  courtesy 
and  the  grace  of  his  beautiful  wife,  his 
island  became  the  general  resort  for  all 
the  country  around,  and  it  is  even  yet  cel- 
ebrated for  the  splendid  revelries  and 
entertainments  of  which  it  was  once  the 
scene. 

Blennerhassett  was  a  fine  sample  of  a 
polished  Irish  gentleman,  and  rendered 
himself  a  very  affectionate  object  of  regard, 
by  the  amenity  of  his  manners  and  his 
disposition.  His  lady  was  a  woman  of 
rare  beauty  and  accomplishments,  which 
were  heightened  by  a  pure  and  unimpeach- 
able character.  She  reigned  the  queen  of 
this  beautiful  kingdom  of  taste  and  refine- 
ment which  Blennerhassett  had  created  on 
the  Ohio ;  and,  according  to  contemporary 
accounts,  she  deported  herself  with  an  ele- 
gance and  dignity  that  might  have  become 
a  throne.  She  was  also  a  woman  of  high 


spirit  and  ambition,  and  when  Burr,  aware 
of  her  commanding  influence  over  her  hus- 
band, confidentially  intrusted  her  with  his 
plans,  she  was  fired  with  the  boldness  and 
intrepidity  of  his  enterprise,  and  immedi- 
ately determined  to  engage  her  husband  as 
an  associate.  Blennerhassett,  being  a 
man  of  ductile  temper,  was  easily  induced 
by  the  dazzling  representations  of  prospec- 
tive glory  and  honor  which  were  set  before 
him,  to  become  a  participator  with  Burr. 
He  was,  moreover,  a  liberalist  of  the 
French  school,  of  which  fact  Aaron  Burr 
was  well  aware  ;  and  it  would  seem  that 
the  gorgeous  picture  which  Burr  held  up 
to  him,  of  Mexico  redeemed  from  tyranny 
by  their  united  efforts,  inspired  his  whole 
nature,  as  he  entered  with  enthusiasm  into 
what  he  was  led  to  regard  an  honorable 
and  humane  undertaking. 

When  once  pledged  to  Burr,  urder  the 
mastering  genius  of  his  wife,  the  exiled 
patriot  actively  engaged  in  enlisting  men, 
building  boats,  and  preparing  the  essen- 
tials of  his  expedition.  Many  of  the  most 
respectable  citizens  of  the  neighboring 
country,  being  influenced  by  the  flattering 
promises  held  out,  were  induced  to  con- 
tribute funds,  and  connect  themselves  with 
the  affair.  The  entertainments  on  the 
island  were,  with  the  progress  of  events, 
broken  up,  and  its  shores  echoed  only  to 
the  muffled  oar  of  the  conspirators,  as  they 
crossed  from  the  adjacent  banks,  or  to  the 
tramp  of  bold  adventurers,  as  they  congre- 
gated on  the  beach  to  resolve  and  discuss 
their  plans. 

Though  somewhat  anticipating  the 
thread  of  the  narrative,  it  may  here  be 
stated,  as  illustrating  the  character  of  a 
truly  brave  woman  and  devoted  wife,  that 
a  large  number  of  flat-boats  had  been  built 
on  the  Muskingum,  and  sent  over  to  the 
island,  and  everything  was  ripe  for  a 
movement,  when  the  plot  becams  known 
to  the  public  authorities.  Blennerhassett 
was  very  speedily  deserted  by  his  follow- 
ers ;  and  Buell,  who  commanded  the  gov- 
ernment militia,  went  over  with  a  small 
detachment  to  arrest  Burr's  great  accom- 
plice. He  had  hardly  set  his  foot  on  the 


144 


CONSPIRACY-  AND  TEIAL  OF  BURR. 


island,  before  he  was  met  by  Mrs.  Blen- 
nerhassett,  whose  spirit  seemed  to  rise  with 
the  increasing  desperation  of  her  fortunes. 
She  had  seen  the  party  coming,  and, 
snatching  up  a  pair  of  her  husband's  pis- 
tols, she  ran  from  the  house  to  meet  them. 
Just  as  the  militia-major  stepped  out  of 
the  boat,  she  seized  him  by  the  shoulder, 
and,  thrusting  him  back,  presented  two 
formidable  pistols  full  in  his  face,  cocked 
and  primed,  saying  in  the  most  positive 
tone, — 

"  One  step  farther,  and  I  will  send  you 
into  eternity;  it  is  easier  for  me  to  do  than 
to  say  it !  " 

Her  splendid  figure,  drawn  up  to  its 
full  height,  her  eye  fixed  with  a  strong 
and  determined  gaze,  her  hands  clenching 
firmly  the  weapons  which  she  held  at 
arm's  length,  —  these  told  the  militia- 
major,  in  language  not  to  be  mistaken,  the 
terms  on  which  he  might  advance.  It  is 
no  disparagement  of  his  military  or  manly 
qualities  to  say,  that  the  old  soldier  quailed 
before  the  courageous  woman  and  her  trag- 
ical determination,  and  was  forced  to  turn 
without  his  victim. 

The  frustration  of  Burr's  scheme  was 
largely  due  to  the  revelations  made  by 
General  Wilkinson,  in  whom  Burr  had 
confided  so  far  as  to  communicate  quite 
fully  the  character  and  mode  of  the 
proposed  expedition.  The  tenor  of  this 
communication  was,  that  he,  Burr,  had  ob- 
tained funds,  and  had  actually  commenced 
the  enterprise,  detachments  from  different 
points  and  under  different  pretenses  being 
ready  to  rendezvous  on  the  Ohio  by  the 
first  of  November,  to  meet  on  the  Missis- 
sippi,— Wilkinson  to  be  second  in  com- 
mand to  Burr  only,  and  to  dictate  the 
rank  and  promotion  of  the  officers.  Burr 
was  to  proceed  westward  with  his  daugh- 
ter, whose  husband  would  follow  in  Octo- 
ber, with  a  company  of  choice  spirits. 
Wilkinson  was  also  asked  to  send  an  intel- 
ligent and  confidential  friend  to  confer 
•with  Burr. — bringing  a  list  of  all  persons 
known  to  lao  general,  west  of  the  moun- 
tains, likely  to  prove  useful,  —  together 
with  four  or  five  commissions  of  Wilkin- 


son's officers,  to  be  borrowed  upon  some 
pretense,  and  duly  to  Le  returned.  To 
this  was  added  the  assurance,  that  already 
had  orders  been  given  to  the  contractor, 
to  forward  six  months'  provisions  to  points 
Wilkinson  should  name  —  this  not  to  be 
used  until  the  last  moment,  and  then 
under  proper  injunctions.  Burr  stated  his 
plan  of  operations  to  be  as  follows :  To 
move  down  rapidly  from  the  Falls  on  the 
fifteenth  of  November,  with  the  first  five 
hundred  or  one  thousand  men  in  light 
boats,  to  be  at  Natchez  between  the  fifth 
and  fifteenth  of  December,  there  to  meet 
Wilkinson  and  determine  as  to  the  expe- 
diency of  seizing  on  or  passing  by  Baton 
Rouge ;  that  the  people  of  the  country  to 
which  the  movement  was  directed  were 
ready  to  extend  a  cordial  welcome,  their 
agents  then  with  Burr  declaring  that,  if 
he  would  protect  their  religion  and  not 
subject  them  to  a  foreign  power,  in  three 
weeks  all  would  be  settled.  In  concluding 
his  letter  to  Wilkinson,  Burr  in  glowing 
rhapsody  said: 

"  The  gods  invite  to  glory  and  fortune  1 
It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  we  deserve 
the  boon.  The  bearer  of  this  goes  express 
to  you ;  he  will  hand  a  formal  letter  of 
introduction  to  you  from  Burr.  He  is  a 
man  of  inviolable  honor  and  perfect  dis- 
cretion, formed  to  execute  rather  than  to 
project,  capable  of  relating  facts  with  fidel- 
ity and  incapable  of  relating  them  other- 
wise ;  he  is  thoroughly  informed  of  the 
plans  and  intentions  of  Burr,  and  will  dis- 
close to  you  as  far  as  you  inquire,  and  no 
farther.  He  has  imbibed  a  reverence  for 
your  character,  and  may  be  embarrassed 
in  your  presence ;  put  him  at  ease  and  he 
will  satisfy  you." 

It  appeared  to  be  Burr's  plan,  to  make 
Blennerhassett's  island,  in  the  Ohio  river, 
the  place  of  rendezvous ;  there  to  fit  out 
boats  furnished  with  armed  men,  and  send 
them  down  the  river. 

Burr  had  counted  too  confidently  upon 
Wilkinson's  becoming  an  accessory  and 
participant.  The  latter  instantly  resolved, 
after  reading  the  cipher-letter,  to  avail 
himself  of  the  reference  it  made  to  the 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  BURR. 


145 


bearer,  Mr.  Swartwout,  and,  in  the  course 
of  some  days,  drew  from  him  the  following 
disclosure  : — That  he  had  been  dispatched 
by  Colonel  Burr  from  Philadelphia ;  had 
passed  through  the  states  of  Ohio  and 
Kentucky,  and  proceeded  from  Louisville 
for  St.  Louis,  expecting  there  to  find  Wil- 
kinson;  but  discovering  that  Wilkinson 
had  descended  the  river,  he  procured  a 
skiff,  hired  hands,  and  followed  the  gen- 
eral down  the  Mississippi  to  Fort  Adams, 
and  from  thence  set  out  for  Natchitoches, 
in  company  with  Captains  Spark  and 
Hooke,  under  the  pretense  of  a  disposition 
to  take  part  in  the  campaign  against  the 
Spaniards,  then  pending.  That  Colonel 
Burr,  with  the  support  of  a  powerful  asso- 
ciation extending  from  New  York  to  New 
Orleans,  was  levying  an  armed  body  of 
seven  thousand  men  from  the  western 
states  and  territories,  with  a  view  to  carry 
an  expedition  against  the  provinces  of 
Mexico,  and  that  five  hundred  men,  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Swartwout  and 
a  Colonel  or  Major  Tyler,  were  to  de- 
scend the  Alleghany,  for  whose  accom- 
modation light-boats  had  been  built  and 
were  ready. 

In  reply  to  Wilkinson's  inquiry,  as  to 
what  course  was  to  be  pursued,  answer 
was  made  that  the  territory  would  be  revo- 
lutionized, where  the  people  were  ready  to 
join  them  ;  that  there  would  be  some  seiz- 
ing, probably,  at  New  Orleans  ;  that  they 
expected  to  be  ready  to  march  or  embark 
about  the  first  of  February,  intending  to 
land  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  to  march  from 
thence  to  Mexico.  General  Wilkinson  now 
remarked,  "  There  are  several  millions  of 
dollars  in  the  bank  of  this  place  j"  to 
which  reply  was  made,  "  We  know  it  full 
well."  On  the  general's  further  observing 
that  he  presumed  they  certainly  did  not 
mean  to  violate  private  property,  Burr's 
agent  said  that  they  meant  to  borrow,  and 
would  return  it;  that  they  must  equip 
themselves  in  New  Orleans,  that  they 
expected  naval  protection  from  Great  Brit- 
ain ;  that  the  captains  and  officers  of  the 
American  navy  were  so  disgusted  with  the 
government,  that  they  were  ready  to  join  ; 


that  similar  disgusts  prevailed  throughout 
the  western  country,  where  the  people 
were  zealous  in  favor  of  the  enterprise, 
and  that  pilot-boat  built  schooners  had 
been  contracted  for  along  the  southern 
coast  for  their  service. 

Though  determined  to  deceive  him,  if 
possible,  General  Wilkinson  avers — not- 
withstanding the  charge  which  has  been 
brought  against  him  of  at  one  time  favor- 
ing and  subsequently  turning  his  back 
upon  Burr's  scheme — that  he  replied  that 
he  could  never  dishonor  his  commission ; 
that  he  also  duped  the  agent  by  expressing 
admiration  of  the  plan,  arid  by  observing, 
that,  although  he  could  not  join  the  expe- 
dition, the  engagements  which  the  Span- 
iards had  prepared  for  him  at  the  front 
might  prevent  his  opposing  it.  Yet,  as 
soon  as  General  Wilkinson  had  fully 
deciphered  the  letter,  he  declared  his  inten- 
tion to  oppose  the  lawless  enterprise  with 
all  the  force  at  his  command,  and  immedi- 
ately informed  President  Jefferson.  With 
the  exception  of  the  attack  on  the  frigate 
Chesapeake,  Commodore  Barron,  by  the 
British  frigate  Leopard,  and  the  embargo 
and  non-intercourse  measures  against 
England,  few  occurrences  caused  greater 
anxiety  to  the  president,  during  his  eight 
years'  official  term,  than  this  of  Burr. 

Government  spies  had  for  some  time 
been  on  Burr's  track,  and,  in  view  of  his 
supposed  design  to  attempt  a  separation  of 
the  western  states  from  the  federal  union, 
the  governor  of  Ohio  was  authorized  by 
the  legislature  to  proceed  in  such  a  manner 
as  he  deemed  best  to  check  and  break  \ip 
the  movement.  Accordingly,  by  the 
middle  of  December,  ten  boats  with  stores 
were  arrested  on  the  Muskingum,  and  in  a 
short  time  after,  four  more  were  seized  by 
the  troops  at  Marietta.  Blennerhassett, 
Tyler,  and  about  forty  others,  left  the 
island  on  the  night  of  December  tenth, 
and  sailed  down  the  river,  barely  escaping 
arrest  by  the  military  authorities  of  Ohio. 
On  the  sixteenth,  this  party  united  with 
one  commanded  by  Davis  Floyd,  at  the 
Falls,  and,  ten  days  after,  the  whole  force 
joined  Burr  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cumber- 


146 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TEIAL  OF  BUKR. 


BREAKING-HI'   OF   BURR'S   EXPEDITION 


BURR  AXD  1113    DELUDED  FOLLOWERS. 

land ;  on  the  twenty-ninth,  the  adventur- 
ers passed  Fort  Massac. 

In  the  meantime,  the  United  States 
government  had  not  been  inactive.  Pres- 
ident Jefferson's  proclamation  cautioned 
all  citizens  against  joining  the  enterprise, 
and  orders  were  issued  to  the  United 
States  troops,  then  stationed  along  the 
Ohio  and  Mississippi,  to  capture  the  boats 
and  make  prisoners  all  on  board  of  them, 
including,  of  course,  the  chief  conspirator. 
Ample  precaution  had  likewise  been  taken 
by  General  Wilkinson,  for  the  protection 
and  defense  of  New  Orleans.  On  the 
fourth  of  January,  Burr  was  at  Fort  Pick- 
ering, Chickasaw  Bluffs  ;  and  soon  after  at 
Bayou  Pierre.  But  as  he  approached 
New  Orleans,  he  found  such  a  state  of 
things  in  respect  to  public  sentiment  and 
military  equipment,  as  to  completely  baffle 
his  plans.  He  accordingly  proceeded  to 
the  Tombigbee,  on  his  way  to  Florida, 


having  landed  with  a  single  companion  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  middle 
of  January. 

Close  pursuit  was  made  of  Burr  by 
Lieutenant  Edmund  P.  Gaines,  at  the 
head  of  a  file  of  mounted  soldiers,  and  in  a 
short  time  they  encountered  the  object  of 
their  search,  with  his  traveling  companion. 
Gaines  rode  forward,  and  accosting  one  of 
the  strangers,  whom  he  suspected  to  be 
the  leader-in-chief,  remarked — 

"  I  presume,  sir,  that  I  have  the  honor 
of  addressing  Colonel  Burr." 

"  I  am  a  traveler,"  answered  Burr,  "  and 
in  a  strange  land,  and  do  not  recognize 
your  right  to  ask  such  a  question." 

"I  arrest  you"  responded  Gaines,  "at 
the  instance  of  the  United  States." 

"  By  what  authority  do  you  arrest  me, 
a  stranger,  on  the  highway,  on  my  own 
private  business  ?  " 

"  I  am  an  officer  of  the  United  States 
army,  and  hold  in  my  hand  the  proclama- 
tion of  the  president,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
governor  of  the  Mississippi  territory, 
directing  your  arrest." 

"  But  you  are  a  young  man,  and  perhaps 
not  aware  of  the  responsibility  of  thus 
arresting  a  traveler." 

"  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  my  duties,  in 
the  premises,  and  shall  endeavor  to  per- 
form them." 

Burr  now  broke  out  in  a  stream  of  vehe- 
ment denunciation  of  the  proclamations. 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  BURR. 


147 


and  warning  Gaines  that,  in  carrying  out 
their  illegal  requisitions,  he  would  be  in- 
curring the  most  serious  liabilities.  His 
manner  was  firm,  his  tone  imperious,  his 
words  keen  and  forcible ;  but  the  resolute 
young  officer  told  him  his  mind  was  made 
up, — the  prisoner  must  accompany  him  to 
his  quarters,  where  he  would  be  treated 
with  all  the  respect  due  the  ex-vice- 
president  of  the  United  States,  so  long  as 
he  made  no  attempt  to  escape.  He  was 
then  conducted  to  Fort  Stoddart,  and 
thence  was  conveyed  on  horseback,  in 
charge  of  Captain  Perkins,  to  Richmond, 
Virginia,  to  be  tried  by  the  United  States 
on  a  charge  of  high  treason,  before  Chief- 
Justice  Marshall,  of  the  supreme  federal 
court. 

Strange  and  rapid  were  Burr's  vicissi- 
tudes. From  being  vice-president  of  the 
republic,  the  idol  of  a  powerful  and  domi- 
nant party,  he  had  become  the  slayer  of 
America's  greatest  statesman,  and  then  a 
bold  and  disowned  adventurer.  Defeated 
and  pursued,  he  was  indeed  a  hopeless 
fugitive.  When  he  fled  from  the  authori- 
ties in  the  Mississippi  territory,  he  dis- 
guised himself  in  a  boatman's  dress;  his 
pantaloons  were  of  coarse,  copperas-dyed 
cloth,  with  a  roundabout  of  inferior  drab; 
his  hat,  a  flapping,  wide-brim  beaver,  had, 
in  times  long  past,  been  white,  but  now 
gave  evidence  of  having  encountered  much 
rough  weather.  He  finally  found  himself 
a  prisoner,  on  his  way  to  be  arraigned  be- 
fore a  jury  of  his  country,  for  high  crimes 
and  misdemeanors.  Yet  his  fascinating 
power  over  men's  minds  was  not  yet 
extinguished.  On  being  placed  under 
guard,  to  be  conveyed  to  Richmond,  it  was 
thought  necessary  by  the  directing  officer, 
to  take  every  man  composing  the  squad 
aside,  and  obtain  the  most  solemn  pledges 
that,  upon  the  whole  route,  they  would 
hold  no  interviews  with  Burr,  nor  suffer 
him  to  escape  alive.  His  power  of  fasci- 
nating and  making  strong  impressions 
upon  the  human  mind,  and  attaching  men 
to  him  by  association,  could  allow  of  no 
familiarity. 

A   characteristic    incident   occurred  on 


the  route  to  Richmond.  On  reaching  the 
confines  of  South  Carolina,  Captain  Per- 
kins watched  Burr  more  closely  than  ever ; 
for,  in  this  state  lived  the  son-in-law  of 
Burr,  Colonel  Allston,  a  gentleman  of 
talents,  wealth  and  influence,  and  after- 
wards governor  of  the  state.  Upon  enter- 
ing the  frontiers  of  Georgia,  Perkins 
endeavored  to  convey  his  prisoner  in 
by-roads,  to  avoid  the  towns,  lest  he  should 
be  rescued.  The  plan  was  attended  with 
difficulty  ;  they  were  often  lost — the  march 
impeded  —  the  highway  again  resumed. 
Before  entering  the  town  of  Chester,  in 
South.  Carolina,  the  party  halted.  Two 
men  were  placed  before  Burr,  two  on 
either  side,  and  two  behind,  and,  in  this 
manner,  they  passed  near  a  tavern  on  the 
street,  where  many  persons  were  standing, 
and  music  and  dancing  were  heard  in  the 
house.  Burr  conceived  it  a  favorable 
opportunity  for  escape,  and,  suddenly  dis- 
mounting, exclaimed — 

"I  am  Aaron  Burr,  under  military 
arrest,  and  claim  protection  of  the  civil 
authorities  ! " 

Perkins  leaped  from  his  horse,  with 
several  of  his  men,  and  ordered  him 
instantly  to  re-mount. 

"I will  not!"  replied  Burr. 
Not  wishing  to  shoot  him,  Perkins 
threw  down  his  pistols,  and,  being  a  man 
of  prodigious  strength,  and  the  prisoner 
rather  small,  seized  him  around  the  waist 
and  placed  him  in  his  saddle,  as  though  he 
was  a  child.  One  of  the  guards  now 
caught  the  reins  of  the  bridle,  slipped 
them  over  the  horse's  head,  and  led  him 
rapidly  on.  The  astonished  citizens  had 
seen  a  party  enter  their  village  with  a 
prisoner;  had  heard  him  appeal  to  them 
for  protection ;  had  witnessed  the  feat  of 
Perkins;  and  the  party  vanished,  before 
they  had  time  to  recover  from  their  confu- 
sion—  for,  when  Burr  dismounted,  the 
guards  cocked  their  pistols,  and  the  people 
ran  within  the  piazza  to  escape  from 
danger.  Far  off  in  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  the  party  again  halted.  Burr 
was  intensely  agitated  ;  the  hitherto  iron- 
hearted  man  was  in  tears!  It  was  the 


148 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  BURR. 


first  time  any  one  had  ever  seen  Aaron 
Burr  unmanned. 

On  trial,  at  last,  the  whole  United 
States  waited  the  result  with  profoundest 
interest.  It  was  one  of  the  most  memora- 
ble state  occasions,  in  the  history  of  human 
governments.  Upon  the  bench  sat  the 
venerated  Marshall,  calm,  dignified, 
learned.  For  the  prosecution,  there  ap- 
peared District  Attorney  Hay  and  the 
renowned  William  Wirt.  For  the  defend- 
ant, Luther  Martin,  Edmund  Randolph, 
John  Wickham,  Benjamin  Botts,  and, 
rivaling  all  the  rest,  Burr  himself.  On 
the  jury  were  such  men  as  John  Randolph 
and  Littleton  W.  Tazewell.  Among  the 
spectators  were  Commodore  Truxton,  Gen- 
erals Eaton  and  Jackson,  Washington 
Irving,  Winfield  Scott,  William  B.  Giles, 
John  Taylor.  Burr  was  of  course  the  cen- 
tral figure  in  this  master  scene.  After  a 
trial  lasting  three  or  four  weeks  in  mid- 
summer, during  which  the  legal  exertions 
and  forensic  talent  and  power  displayed  on 
both  sides  were  indeed  prodigious,  the 
jury  returned  a  verdict,  "that  Aaron  Burr 
is  not  proved  to  be  guilty,  under  the 
indictment,  by  any  evidence  submitted  to 
us;  we,  therefore,  find  him  not  guilty." 
The  prosecution  failed  and  broke  do^n  in 
its  legal  proofs,  and  consequent:}*  the 
indictments  against  the  other  conspirators 
were  never  pursued. 

Blennerhassett  found  himself  stripped 
of  his  possessions,  because  of  what  he  had 
embarked  in  this  calamitous  expedition. 
He  went  to  England,  in  quest  of  an  ap- 
pointment to  office,  and  to  Ireland,  to  look 
after  some  reversionary  claims,  but  unsuc- 
cessfully in  both  cases,  and,  bankrupt  and 
broken-hearted,  he  removed  to  the  isle  of 
Guernsey,  and  there  died  in  1831.  Mrs. 
Blennerhassett  died,  a  few  years  after,  in 
New  York,  in  the  most  abject  poverty, 
and  was  buried  by  some  Irish  females. 

Burr,  without  friends  or  fortune,  became 
an  exile  in  Europe,  where  he  lived  in  ex- 
treme penury,  and  everywhere  shunned  as 
a  felon  and  outlaw.  He  was  peremptorily 
ordered  by  the  government  of  England  to 
quit  that  realm,  being  regarded  as  a  spy, 


and,  on  going  to  France,  was  there  kept 
under  the  closest  police  surveillance.  Re- 
turning after  some  years  of  this  kind  of 
life,  to  his  native  land,  he  resumed  the 
profession  of  the  law,  but  the  ban  of  soci- 
ety rested  upon  him,  and  he  was,  as  he 
himself  expressed  it,  severed  from  the  rest 
of  mankind. 

Yet  there  was  one  in  the  wide  world 
who  never  ceased  to  pour  upon  Aaron 
Burr  the  richest  treasures  of  woman's 
adoring  love.  This  was  his  daughter 
Theodosia,  the  beautiful  and  accomplished 
wife  of  Governor  Allston,  of  South  Caro- 
lina. As  has  been  truly  said,  by  one  of  the 
many  eulogists  of  this  marvelous  woman, 
her  love  for  her  father  partook  of  the  purity 
of  a  better  world,— akin,  indeed,  to  the  affec- 
tion which  a  celestial  spirit  might  be  sup- 
posed to  entertain  for  a  parent  cast  down 
from  heaven,  for  sharing  in  the  sin  of  the 
'  Son  of  the  Morning.'  Thus  it  was,  that, 
when  in  the  midst  of  his  deepest  cbloquy, 
and  when  the  whole  world,  as  it  were, 
looked  upon  him,  abhorrently,  as  a  de- 
praved monster,  the  loving  and  beloved 
Theodosia  could  write : 


"I  witness  your  extraordinary  fortitude 
with  new  wonder  at  every  new  misfortune. 
Often,  after  reflecting  upon  this  subject, 
you  appear  to  me  so  superior,  so  elevated 


CONSPIRACY  AND  TRIAL  OF  BURE. 


149 


above  all  other  men;  I  contemplate  you 
with  such  a  strange  mixture  of  humility, 
admiration,  reverence,  love  and  pride,  that 
very  little  superstition  would  be  necessary  to 
make  me  worship  you  as  a  superior  being; 
such  enthusiasm  does  your  character  excite 
in  me.  When  I  afterward  revert  to  my- 
self, how  insignificant  do  my  best  qualities 
appear.  My  vanity  would  be  greater,  if  I 
had  not  been  placed  so  near  you ;  and  yet 
my  pride  is  our  relationship.  I  had  rather 
not  live  than  not  be  the  daughter  of  such  a 
man." 

Never  had  the  worthiest  and  most  vir- 
tuous of  fathers  so  touching  a  tribute  of 
love  and  reverence  from  a  child,  as  this 
from  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Theodosia, 
to  a  parent  whose  very  name  was  regarded 
by  men  as  the  synonym  of  dishonor  and 
pollution.  His  love  for  her,  too,  was  con- 
stant and  unbounded, — a  mutual,  fervent, 
enthusiastic  love,  between  the  two,  that 
almost  passes  belief,  and  which  no  descrip- 
tion could  adequately  characterize.  Yet 
it  was  the  destiny  of  this  man  to  have 
torn  and  swept  from  him  the  last  and  only 
tie  that  kept  him  in  sympathy  with  his 
kind.  Returning  from  his  exile  in  Europe, 
to  the  land  where  he  was  still  regarded  as 


little  else  than  a  fiend  in  human  shape,  his 
heart  was  buoyed  with  the  expectation  of 
soon  clasping  to  his  arms  her  in  whom  his 
earthly  all-in-all  centered.  Alas  !  he  was 
yet  to  drain  the  cup  of  its  nether  dregs. 
Hastening  to  meet  her  father  on  his  ar- 
rival at  New  York,  Theodosia  took  passage 
from  Charleston,  on  the  30th  of  December, 
in  1812,  in  the  small  pilot  schooner  Patriot, 
just  from  a  privateering  cruise.  But, 
though  a  fine  sailer,  with  the  best  of  offi- 
cers, the  vessel  was  never  seen,  nor  heard 
from,  after  leaving  port.  Whether  the 
vessel  took  fire  and  was  thus  destroyed 
with  all  on  board,  or  foundered  in  the  gale 
which  occurred  soon  after  she  left  Charles- 
ton, or  was  taken  by  the  pirates  then 
infesting  the  high  seas,  is  unknown  to  this 
day.  It  was  a  blow  which  brought  inde- 
scribable dismay  and  agony  to  Burr. 
Utterly  bereft  and  alone,  shunned  as  a 
murderer,  and  despised  as  a  plotter  against 
his  country,  his  wretched  existence  was 
prolonged  to  past  four-score  years,  when 
he  went  down  in  loneliness  to  the  grave, 
"unwept,  unhonored,  and  unsung."  Of 
his  accomplished  and  affectionate  daughter, 
all  tongues  and  pens  have  unitedly  spoken 
as  "  Theodosia  the  beloved." 


XVIII. 

• 

FULTON'S    TRIUMPHANT   APPLICATION    OF    STEAM    TO 

NAVIGATION.— 180  T. 


First  Steam-boat  Voyage  on  American  Waters  Under  His  Direction. — Astonishment  Produced  by  the 
Exhibition. — Great   Era  in  National   Development. — The  World  at  Large  Indebted  to  American 

Ingenuity  and  Enterprise  for  this  Mighty  Revolutionary  Agent  in  Human  Progress  and  Power. 

The  Whole  Scale  of  Civilization  Enlarged. — Fulton's  Early  Mechanisms. — His  Inventive  Projects 
Abroad. —  Steam  Propulsion  the  End  Sought. —  Various  Experiments  and  Trials. —  Livingston's 
Valued  Co-operation. — Studying  the  Principle  Involved. — Its  Discovery  at  Last. — Legislative  En- 
couragement Asked.— Public  Ridicule  of  the  Scheme. — Construction  of  a  Steamboat.— The  "  Queer- 
Looking  Craft." — Incidents  at  the  Launch.— Undaunted  Confidence  of  Fulton. —  Sailing  of  the 
"  New-Fangled  Craft." — Demonstrations  Along  the  Route. — Complete  Success  of  the  Trip. — First 
Passage-Money. — That  Bottle  of  Wine.— Opposition  Lines,  and  Racing.— First  Steam-boat  at  the 
West  — Amazing  Subsequent  Increase. — Fulton's  Checkered  Fortunes. 


"It  ia  to  the  undaunted  perseverance  and  exertions  of  the  American  FULTON  that  Is  due  the  everlasting  honor  of  having  produced  this 
resolution,  both  in  naval  architecture  and  navigation."— JDRV  RLPOKT  OF  THB  EXHIBITION  OF  ALL  NATIONS,  LONDON,  185L, 


iTEAM,  in  its  application  to  the  purposes  of  navigation, 
was  first  successfully  employed  by  Robert  Fulton,  a  na- 
tive of  Little  Britain,  Pennsylvania.  His  peculiar  genius 
manifested  itself  at  an  early  age,  in  an  irrepressible  taste 
for  producing  drawings  and  various  mechanisms.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-one  he  was  intimate  with  Franklin.  He 
had  previously  painted  portraits  and  landscapes  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  derived  considerable  profit  from  the  occupa- 
tion. He  subsequently  sailed  for  England,  with  the  view 
of  seeking  Mr.  West's  aid  in  the  prosecution  of  his  art. 
That  great  painter  took  him  into  his  family,  at  once.  In 
^  1793,  Mr.  Fulton  was  actively  engaged  in  a  project  to  im- 
FIRST  STEAMS-BOAT  ON  THE  prove  jn]an(j  navigatiOn.  Even  at  that  time  he  had  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  propelling  vessels  by  steam.  In  1804  he  had  acquired  much 
valuable  information  upon  the  subject,  and  written  it  down,  as  well  as  much  concern- 
ing his  own  life,  and  sent  many  manuscripts  from  Paris  to  this  country,  but  the 
vessel  was  wrecked  and  most  of  the  papers  destroyed.  About  this  period,  the  sub- 
ject of  canals  seems  to  have  been  the  principal  object  of  his  attention,  although  not 
exclusively.  In  1806,  Mr.  Fulton  left  Europe  for  New  York,  and  on  his  arrival 
in  this  country,  he  immediately  commenced  hij  arduous  exertions  in  the  cause  of 
practical  science.  The  fertility  of  his  mind  in  this  direction  may  be  understood, 
when  it  is  stated  that,  in  1794,  he  had  been  engaged  by  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  in 


FULTON'S  F1KST  STEAMBOAT. 


151 


canal  projects,  had  adopted  and  patented 
the  system  of  inclined  planes  as  a  substi- 
tute for  locks,  and  had  written  a  treatise 
on  canals.  He  also  invented  a  mill  for 
sawing  marble,  patented  several  methods 
of  spinning  flax  and  making  ropes,  and 
constructed  a  torpedo  to  be  used  in  war, 
for  the  destruction  of  an  enemy's  vessels. 

At  what  time  Mr.  Fulton's  mind  was 
first  directed  to  steam  navigation,  is  not 
definitely  known;  but  even  in,  1793,  he 
had  matured  a  plan  in  which  he  reposed 
great  confidence.  No  one,  previously  to 
Mr.  Fulton,  had  constructed  a  steam-boat 


L_ 


in  any  other  way,  or  with  any  other  result, 
than  as  an  unsuccessful  experiment ;  and 
although  many  have  disputed  his  right  to 
the  honor  of  the  discovery,  none  have  done 
so  with  any  semblance  of  justice.  Miller's 
experiments,  which  simply  proved  the 
practicability  of  the  principle  of  propelling 
vessels  by  steam,  were  made  in  1787,  in 
Scotland ;  but  Fulton's  boat,  which  began 
to  navigate  the  Hudson  in  1807,  was  cer- 
tainly the  first  practical  demonstration  of 
this  application  of  steam,  being  five  years 
prior  to  the  success  of  Henry  Bell  on  the 
Clyde,  and  nearly  ten  j'ears  preceding  the 
first  attempts  on  the  Thames  river,  under 


Brunei's  direction.  The  incompleteness  of 
Fitch's  plan  is  matter  of  history,  though 
his  inventive  ingenuity  was  very  great. 

Among  those  of  Fnlton's  own  country- 
men who  had  previously  made  unsuccessful 
attempts  to  render  the  force  of  steam  sub- 
servient to  practical  and  useful  purposes, 
was  Chancellor  Livingston,  of  New  York. 
As  early  as  1798,  he  believed  that  he  had 
accomplished  his  object,  and  represented 
to  the  legislature  of  the  state  of  New  York, 
that  he  possessed  a  mode  of  applying  the 
steam  engine  so  as  to  propel  a  boat  on 
new  and  advantageous  principles;  but  he 
was  deterred  from  carrying  it  into  effect, 
by  the  uncertainty  and  hazard  of  a  very 
expensive  experiment,  unless  he  could  be 
assured  of  an  exclusive  advantage  from  it, 
should  it  be  found  successful. 

The  legislature  in  March,  1798,  passed 
an  act  vesting  Mr.  Livingston  with  the 
exclusive  right  and  privilege  of  navigating 
all  kinds  of  boats  which  might  be  propelled 
by  the  force  of  fire  or  steam,  on  all  the 
waters  within  the  territory  or  jurisdiction 
of  the  state  of  New  York,  for  a  term  of 
twenty  years  from  the  passing  of  the  act, 
— upon  condition  that  he  should  within  a 
twelvemonth  build  such  a  hoat,  the  mean 
of  whose  progress  should  not  be  less  than 
four  miles  an  hour. 

The  bill  was  introduced  into  the  house 
of  assembly  by  Dr.  Mitchell,  upon  which 
occasion  the  wags  and  the  lawyers  united 
their  powers  in  opposition  to  the  bill  in 
such  a  manner  that  the  good  doctor  had 
to  encounter  all  their  jokes,  and  parry  all 
their  blows. 

According  to  Mr.  Livingston's  owi* 
account  of  these  most  interesting  circum- 
stances, it  appears  that,  when  residing  as 
minister  plenipotentiary  of  the  United 
States  in  France,  he  there  met  with  Mr. 
Fulton,  and  they  formed  that  friendship 
and  connection  with  each  other,  to  which 
a  similarity  of  pursuits  naturally  gives 
birth.  He  communicated  to  Mr.  Fulton 
his  views  of  the  importance  of  steam-boats 
to  their  common  country ;  informed  him  of 
what  had  been  attempted  in  America,  and 
of  his  resolution  to  resume  the  pursuit  on 


FULTON'S  FIRST  STEAMBOAT. 


his  return;  and  advised  him  to  turn  his 
attention  to  the  subject.  It  was  agreed 
between  them  to  embark  in  the  enterprise, 
and  immediately  to  make  such  experi- 
ments as  would  enable  them  to  determine 
how  far,  in  spite  of  former  failures,  the 
object  was  attainable.  The  principal 
direction  of  these  experiments  was  left  to 
Mr.  Fulton. 

On  the  arrival  at  New  York  of  Mr. 
Fulton,  which  was  not  till  1806,  they  im- 
mediately engaged  in  building  a  boat  of — 
us  was  then  thought — very  considerable 
dimensions,  for  navigating  the  Hudson. 
This  boat,  named  the  Clermont,  was  of 
one  hundred  and  sixty  tons  burden,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  feet  long,  eighteen 
feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  deep.  The 
diameter  of  the  paddle-wheels  was  fifteen 
feet,  the  boards  four  feet  long  and  dipping 
two  feet  in  the  water.  She  was  a  queer- 
looking  .craft,  and,  while  on  the  stocks, 
excited  much  attention  and  no  small 
amount  of  ridicule.  When  she  was 
launched,  and  the  steam  engine  placed  in 
her,  that  also  was  looked  upon  as  being  of 
a  piece  with  the  boat  built  to  float  it.  A 
few  had  seen  one  at  work  raising  the  Man- 
hattan water  into  the  reservoir  back  of 
the  almshouse ;  but,  to  the  people  at  large, 
the  whole  thing  wag  a  hidden  mystery. 
Curiosity  was  greatly  excited.  Nor  will 
the  reader  be  at  all  surprised  at  the  state- 
ment made  by  an  eye-witness  and  narrator 
of  these  events,  that,  when  it  was  an- 
nounced in  the  New  York  papers  that  the 
boat  would  start  from  Cortlandt  street  at 
six  and  a  half  o'clock  on  Friday  morning, 
the  fourth  of  August,  and  take  passengers 
to  Albany,  there  was  a  broad  smile  on 
every  face,  as  the  inquiry  was  made,  if 
imy  one  would  be  fool  enough  to  go  ? 
One  friend  was  heard  to  accost  another  in 
^he  street  with — 

"John,  will  thee  risk  thy  life  in  such  a 
concern  ?  I  tell  thee  she  is  the  most  fear- 
ful wild  fowl  living,  and  thy  father  ought 
to  restrain  thee  !  " 

When  Friday  morning  came,  the 
wharves,  piers,  house-tops,  and  every 
'  colyne  de  vantage '  from  which  a  sight 


could  be  obtained,  was  filled  with  specta- 
tors. There  were  twelve  berths,  and 
every  one  was  taken  through  to  Albany. 
The  fare  was  seven  dollars.  All  the 
machinery  was  uncovered  and  exposed  to 
view.  The  periphery  of  the  balance- 
wheels,  of  cast  iron,  some  four  or  more 
inches  square,  ran  just  clear  of  the  water. 
There  were  no  outside  guards,  the  balance- 
wheels  being  supported  by  their  respective 
shafts,  which  projected  over  the  sides  of 
the  boat.  The  forward  part  was  covered 
by  a  deck,  which  afforded  shelter  to  the 
hands.  The  after-part  was  fitted  up,  in  a 
rough  manner,  for  passengers.,  The  en- 
trance into  the  cabin  was  from  the  stern, 
in  front  of  the  steersman,  who  worked  a 
tiller,  as  in  an  ordinary  sloop.  Black 
smoke  issued  from  the  chimney;  steam 
issued  from  every  ill-fitted  valve  and  crev- 
ice of  the  engine.  Fulton  himself  was 
there.  His  remarkably  clear  and  sharp 
voice  was  heard  above  the  hum  of  the  mul- 
titude and  the  noise  of  the  engine;  his 
step  was  confident  and  decided ;  he  heeded 
not  the  tearfulness,  doubts,  or  sarcasm  of 
those  by  whom  he  was  surrounded.  The 
whole  scene  combined  had  in  it  an  individ- 
uality, as  well  as  an  interest,  which  comes 
but  once  and  is  remembered  forever. 

Everything  being  ready,  the  engine  was 
set  in  motion,  and  the  boat  moved  steadily 
but  slowly  from  the  wharf  :  as  she  turned 
up  the  river,  and  was  fairly  under  way, 
there  arose  such  a  huzza  as  ten  thousand 
throats  never  gave  before.  The  passen- 
gers returned  the  cheer,  but  Fulton  stood 
upon  the  deck,  his  eyes  flashing  with  an  un- 
usual brilliancy  as  he  surveyed  the  crowd. 
He  felt  that  the  magic  wand  of  success 
was  waving  over  him,  and  he  was  silent. 

As  the  boat  sailed  or  steamed  by  West 
Point,  the  whole  garrison  was  out,  and 
cheered  most  lustily.  At  Newburg,  it 
seemed  as  if  all  Orange  county  was  col- 
lected there;  the  whole  side-hill  city 
seemed  animated  with  life.  Every  sail- 
boat and  water-craft  was  out.  The  ferry- 
boat from  Fishkill  was  filled  with  ladies, 
but  Fulton  was  engaged  in  seeing  a  pas- 
senger landed,  and  did  not  observe  the 


FULTON'S  FIEST  STEAMBOAT. 


boat  until  she  bore  up  nearly  alongside ; 
the  napping  of  a  sail  arrested  his  atten- 
tion, and,  as  he  turned,  the  waving  of  so 
many  handkerchiefs,  and  the  smiles  of  so 


In  a  letter  to  his  friend  and  patron,  Mr. 
Barlow,  Fulton  says  of  this  Clermont  trial 
trip  :  "  My  steam-boat  voyage  to  Albany 
and  back  has  turned  out  rather  more 


many  bright  and  happy  faces,  struck  him 
with  surprise,  and,  raising  his  hat,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  That  is  the  finest  sight  we  have 
seen  yet." 


favorable  than  I  had  calculated.  The  dis- 
tance to  Albany  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles.  I  ran  up  in  thirty-two  hours  and 
down  in  thirty.  The  latter  is  just  five 


154 


FULTON'S  FIRST  STEAMBOAT. 


miles  'in  hour.  I  had  a  light  breeze 
against  me  the  whole  way,  going  and  com- 
ing, so  that  no  use  was  made  cf  my  sails, 
and  this  voyage  has  been  performed  whol- 
ly by  the  power  of  the  steam  engine.  I 
overtook  many  sloops  and  schooners  beat- 
ing to  the  windward,  and  passed  them  as 
if  they  had  been  at  anchor."  Such  was 
the  modest  description  of  this  greatest  of 
modern  inventions. 

Of  peculiar  interest  and  entertainment 
is  the  following  narrative  connected  with 
this  historic  voyage,  from  the  graphic  pen 
of  one  who  was  a  personal  actor  in  the 
scene  described : — 

I  chanced  to  be  at  Albany  on  business 
when  Fulton  arrived  there  in  his  unheard- 
of  craft,  which  everybody  felt  so  much 
anxiety  to  see.  Being  ready  to  leave,  and 
hearing  that  this  craft  was  going  to 
return  to  New  York,  I  repaired  on  board 
and  inquired  for  Mr.  Fulton.  I  was 
referred  to  the  cabin,  and  there  found  a 
plain,  gentlemanly  man,  wholly  alone,  and 
engaged  in  writing. 

"  Mr.  Fulton,  I  presume." 
"Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  return  to  New  York,  with  this 
boat  ?  " 

"  We  shall  try  to  get  back,  sir." 
"  Can  I  have  a  passage  down  ?  " 
"You  can  take  your  chance  with  us, 
sir." 

I  inquired  the  amount  to  be  paid,  and, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  a  sum,  I 
think  six  dollars,  was  named.  The  amount, 
in  coin,  I  laid  in  his  open  hand,  and,  with 
his  eye  fixed  upon  it,  he  remained  so  long 
motionless,  that  I  supposed  it  might  be  a 
miscount,  and  said  to  him,  "  Is  that  right, 
sir  ?  "  This  question  roused  him  as  from 
a  kind  of  reverie,  and,  as  he  looked  up,  the 
big  tear  was  brimming  in  his  eye,  and  his 
voice  faltered  as  he  said — 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  but  memory  was 
busy  as  I  contemplated  this,  the  first 
pecuniary  reward  I  have  ever  received  for 
all  my  exertions  in  adapting  steam  to 
navigation.  I  should  gladly  commemorate 
the  occasion  over  a  bottle  of  wine  with 
you,  but  really  I  am  too  poor  even  for 


that,  just  now;  yet  I  trust  we  may  meet 
again,  when  this  will  not  be  the  case." 

Some  four  years  after  this  (continues 
the  writer  of  this  agreeable  reminiscence), 
when  the  Clermont  had  been  greatly  im- 
proved and  her  name  changed  to  the  North 
River,  and  when  two  other  boats,  viz.,  the 
Car  of  Neptune  and  the  Paragon  had  been 
built,  making  Mr.  Fulton's  fleet  consist  of 
three  boats  regularly  plying  between  New 
York  and  Albany,  I  took  passage  upon  one 
of  these  for  the  latter  city.  The  cabin  in 
that  day  was  below ;  and,  as  I  walked  its 
length  to  and  fro,  I  saw  I  was  very  closely 
observed  by  one  I  supposed  a  stranger. 
Soon,  however,  I  recalled  the  features  of 
Mr.  Fulton;  but,  without  disclosing  this, 
I  continued  my  walk.  At  length,  in. pass- 
ing his  seat,  our  eyes  met,  when  he  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  eagerly  seizing  my  hand, 
exclaimed — 

"  I  knew  it  must  be  you,  for  your  feafr- 
ures  have  never  escaped  me  ;  and,  although 
I  am  still  far  from  rich,  yet  I  may  venture 
that  bottle  now  !  " 

It  was  ordered ;  and  during  its  discus- 
sion Mr.  Fulton  ran  rapidly,  but  vividly, 
over  his  experiences  of  the  world's  cold- 
ness and  sneers,  and  of  the  hopes,  fears, 
disappointments,  and  difficulties,  that  were 
scattered  through  his  whole  career  of  dis- 
covery, up  to  the  very  point  of  his  final, 
crowning  triumph,  at  which  he  so  fully  felt 
he  had  arrived  at  last.  And  in  reviewing 
all  these  matters,  he  said — 

"  I  have  again  and  again  recalled  the 
occasion,  and  the  incident,  of  our  first 
interview  at  Albany;  and  never  have  I 
done  so  without  renewing  in  my  mind  the 
vivid  emotion  it  originally  caused.  That 
seemed,  and  does  still  seem,  to  me,  the 
turning  point  in  my  destiny — the  dividing 
line  between  light  and  darkness,  in  my 
career  upon  earth;  for  it  was  the  first 
actual  recognition  of  my  usefulness  to  my 
fellow-men." 

Even  at  this  early  period  in  the  employ- 
ment of  so  dangerous  and  slightly  under- 
stood a  motive  power  as  steam,  the  rivalry 
and  diversion  of  racing  was  indulged  in. 
I  It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  1809, 


FULTON'S  FIRST  STEAMBOAT. 


155 


that  the  exciting  and  criminal  scene  of  a 
steam-boat  race  was  first  enacted.  A  com- 
pany from  Albany  had  been  formed  for 
the  purpose  of  competing  with  Fulton. 
The  first  vessel  of  this  opposition  line  was 
advertised  to  leave  Albany  at  the  same 
time  as  Fulton's.  Parties  ran  high  in  the 
hotels  of  Albany.  The  partisans  of  Fulton 
were  enrolled  under  Professor  Kemp,  of 
Columbia  College  ;  those  of  the  opposition 
under  Jacob  Stout.  The  victory  was  long 
in  suspense ;  and  it  was  not  until  after  the 
thirtieth  hour  of  a  hard  struggle  that  the 
result  was  proclaimed  by  Dr.  Kemp,  on 
the  taffrail  of  Fulton's  vessel,  and  holding 
out,  in  derision,  a  coil  of  rope  to  Captain 
Stout,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  remarked  in 
so  doing,  of  "  towing  him  into  port." 
When  the  age,  high  standing,  and  sedate 
character  of  these  two  gentlemen  are  con- 
sidered, it  is  not  surprising  that,  in  course 
of  time,  women  at  the  West  learned  to 
devote  their  bacon  to  feeding  the  furnace 
fires  of  rival  steam-boats. 

The  complete  success  attending  steam 
navigation  on  the  Hudson  and  the  neigh- 
boring waters,  previous  to  the  year  1809, 
turned  the  attention  of  the  principal  pro- 
jectors to  the  idea  of  its  application  on  the 
western  waters;  and  in  the  month  of 
April  of  that  year,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  of  New 
York,  pursuant  to  an  agreement  with 
Chancellor  Livingston  and  Mr.  Fulton, 
visited  those  rivers,  with  the  purpose  of 
forming  an  opinion  whether  they  admitted 
of  steam  navigation  or  not.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
surveyed  tho  rivers  from  Pittsburg  to 
New  Orleans,  and,  as  his  report  was  favor- 
able, it  was  decided  to  build  a  boat  at  the 
former  place.  This  was  done  under  his 
direction,  and  in  the  year  1811  the  first 
boat  was  launched  on  the  waters  of  the 
Ohio.  It  was  called  the  New  Orleans. 

Late  at  night,  on  the  fourth  day  after 
quitting  Pittsburg,  they  arrived  in  safety 
at  Louisville,  having  been  seventy  hours 
descending  a  distance  of  somewhat  more 
than  seven  hundred  miles.  The  novel 
appearance  of  the  vessel,  and  the  fearful 
rapidity — as  it  was  then  regarded — with 
which  it  made  its  passage,  excited  a  mix- 


ture of  terror  and  surprise  among  many  of 
the  settlers  on  the  banks,  whom  the  rumor 
of  such  an  invention  had  never  reached. 

Mr.  Livingston's  former  associate  in  his 
experiments  with  applying  steam  to  this 
purpose  was  Mr.  John  Stevens,  of  New 
Jersey,  who  persevered  independently  of 
Fulton  and  his  patron,  in  various  attempts 
to  construct  steam-boats.  In  this  enter- 
prise he  was  aided  by  his  son,  and  his 
prospects  of  success  had  become  so  flatter- 
ing, that  he  refused  to  renew  his  partner- 
ship with  Livingston,  and  resolved  to  trust 
to  his  own  exertions.  Fulton's  boat,  how- 
ever, was  first  ready,  and  thus  secured  the 
grant  of  the  exclusive  privilege  of  the  state 
of  New  York.  The  Stevenses  were  but  a 
few  days  later  in  moving  a  boat  with  the 
required  velocity.  Being  shut  out  of  the 
waters  of  the  state  of  New  York,  by  the 
priority  of  Livingston  and  Fulton,  Stevens 
conceived  the  bold  design  of  conveying  his 
boat  to  the  Delaware  by  sea ;  and  this 
boat,  which  was  so  near  reaping  the  honor 
of  first  success,  was  the  first  to  navigate 
the  ocean  by  steam.  One  of  the  most 
efficient  advocates  of  the  new  mode  of  nav- 
igation by  steam  was  DeWitt  Clinton. 

From  the  date  of  Fulton's  triumph  in 
1807,  steam  navigation  became  a  fixed  fact 
in  the  United  States,  and  went  on  extend- 
ing with  astonishing  rapidity.  Nor  could 
a  different  result  have  been  rationally 
expected  in  such  a  country  as  America. 

In  person,  Mr.  Fulton  was  about  six 
feet  high,  slender  form,  but  finely  propor- 
tioned. Nature  had  made  him  a  gentle- 
man, and  bestowed  upon  him  ease  and 
gracefulness.  A  modest  confidence  in  his 
own  worth  and  talents,  gave  him  an  unem- 
barrassed deportment  in  all  his  social 
intercourse.  He  expressed  himself  with 
energy,  fluency,  and  correctness,  and,  as  he 
owed  more  to  his  own  experience  and 
reflections  than  to  books,  his  sentiments 
were  often  interesting  from  their  original- 
ity. But  what  was  most  conspicuous  in 
his  character,  was  his  calm  constancy,  his 
industry,  and  that  indefatigable  patience 
and  perseverance,  which  always  enabled 
him  to  overcome  difficulties. 


XIX. 


EXTENSIVE  AND   CALAMITOUS    EARTHQUAKE  AT   THE 

WEST.— 1811. 


Its  Convulsive  Force  Felt  all  Over  the  Valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  to  the  Atlantic  Coast. — The  Earth 
Suddenly  Bursts  Open  and  a  Vast  Region  of  Country  is  Sunk  and  Lost. — Awful  Chasms  and 
Upheavals. — Ruin  and  Desolation  Brought  Upon  the  Inhabitants. — llumboldt's  Interesting  Opin- 
ion of  the  Western  Earthquake. — Its  Central  Point  of  Violence. — Terrible  Consternation  Produced. 
— The  Ground  Swellings  and  Crackings. — Great  Agitation  of  the  Waters. — Houses  Buried,  Boats 
Wrecked. — Giant  Forests  Crushed. — Purple  Tinge  of  the  Atmosphere. — Thunder,  Lightning,  Flood, 
Etc. — A  Mighty  Struggle. — Hills  and  Islands  Disappear. — Burial  Grounds  Engulfed. — Nature's 
Secrets  Unbosomed. — Lakes  Drained,  New  Ones  Formed. — Present  Aspect  of  the  Country. — 
Account  of  the  More  Recent  Earthquakes  in  California,  their  Characteristics  and  Destructiveness. 
— Most  Serious  in  San  Francisco.— Lives  and  Property  Lost. — Women  and  Children  Panic-Struck. 
— Direction  of  the  Shocks. — Indications  of  their  Approach. — Efiect  in  the  Harbor  and  Bay. 


"  Diseased  nature  oftentimes  breaks  forth 

In  strange  eruptions  ;  and  the  teeming  earth 

Is  with  a  kind  of  colic  pinch'd  and  vex'd 

By  the  imprisoning  of  unruly  wimla 

Within  her  womb  ;  which,  for  enlargement  striving, 

Shake  th«  old  beldame  Earth,  and  topple  down 

Steeples  and  moss-grown  towers." 


AFTEB  THE  EARTHQUAKE. 


AKTHQUAKES  in  the  United  States 
I  have  been  of  comparatively  rare  occur- 
rence, so  far  as  any  extensive  destruction 
|  of  life  and  property  has  been  involved. 
By  far  the  most  important  of  these,  prior 
to  the  disastrous  California  earthquakes  in 
1865  and  1868,  was  that  which  took  place 
at  New  Madrid,  in  Missouri,  below  St. 
Louis,  on  the  Mississippi,  in  1811,  and 
which  is  always  spoken  of,  in  that  section, 
as  "  the  great  earthquake."  Over  a  region 
of  country  three  hundred  miles  in  length, 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio  to  that  of  the 
St  Francis,  the  ground  rose  and  sank  in 
great  undulations,  and  lakes  were  formed, 
and  again  drained.  Humboldt  remarks 
that  it  presents  one  of  the  few  examples  of 
an  incessant  quaking  of  the  ground  for 
successive  months  far  from  any  volcano. 

The  central  point  of  violence  in  this 
remarkable  earthquake  was  thought  to  be 
near  the  Little  Prairie,  twenty-five  or 
thirty  miles  below  New  Madrid;  the  vibra- 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


157 


tions  from  which  were  felt  all  over  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio,  as  high  up  as  Pitts- 
hurg.  The  first  shock  was  felt  on  the 
night  of  December  sixteenth,  1811,  and 
was  repeated  at  intervals,  with  decreasing 
severity,  into  February  following.  New 
Madrid,  having  suffered  more  than  any 
other  town  on  the  Mississippi  from  its 
effects,  was  considered  as  situated  near 
the  focus  from  whence  the  undulations 
proceeded. 

The  water  of  the  river,  which  the  day 
before  was  tolerably  clear,  being  rather 
low,  changed  to  a  reddish  hue,  and  became 
thick  with  mud  thrown  up  from  its  bottom, 
while  the  surface,  lashed  vehemently  by 
the  convulsion  of  the  earth  beneath,  was 
covered  with  foam,  which,  gathering  into 
masses  the  size  of  a  barrel,  floated  along 
on  the  trembling  surface.  The  earth  on 
the  shores  opened  in  wide  fissures,  and, 
closing  again,  threw  the  water,  sand  and 
mud,  in  huge  jets,  higher  than  the  tops  of 
the  trees.  The  atmosphere  was  filled  with 
a  thick  vapor  or  gas,  to  which  the  light 
imparted  a  purple  tinge,  altogether  differ- 
ent in  appearance  from  the  autumnal  haze 
of  an  Indian  summer,  or  that  of  smoke. 
From  the  temporary  check  to  the  current, 
by  the  heaving  up  of  the  bottom,  the  sink- 
ing of  the  banks  and  sand-bars  into  the  bed 
of  the  stream,  the  river  rose  in  a  few  min- 
utes five  or  six  feet ;  and,  impatient  of  the 
restraint,  again  rushed  forward  with 
redoubled  impetuosity,  hurrying  along  the 
boats,  now  set  loose  by  the  panic-stricken 
boatmen,  as  in  less  danger  on  the  water 
than  at  the  shore,  where  the  banks  threat- 
ened every  moment  to  destroy  them  by  the 
falling  earth,  or  carry  them  down  in  the 
vortices  of  the  sinking  masses.  Many 
boats  were  overwhelmed  in  this  manner, 
and  their  crews  perished  with  them. 
Numerous  boats  were  wrecked  on  the 
snags  and  old  trees  thrown  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  had 
quietly  rested  for  ages,  while  others  were 
sunk  or  stranded  on  the  sand-bars  and 
islands.  At  New  Madrid,  several  boats 
were  carried  by  the  reflux  of  the  current 
into  a  small  stream  that  puts  into  the 


river  just  above  the  town,  and  left  on  the 
ground  by  the  returning  water  a  very  con- 
siderable distance  from  the  Mississippi. 

It  is  an  interesting  coincidence,  that,  at 
this  precise  period,  the  first  steam-boat 
voyage  ever  made  in  western  waters,  added 
the  novelty  of  its  occurrence  to  the  con- 
vulsions of  nature  in  this  region.  The 
name  of  the  steam-boat  in  question  was  the 
New  Orleans,  commanded  by  Mr.  Roose- 
velt. On  arriving  about  five  miles  above 
the  Yellow  Banks,  near  New  Madrid,  they 
moored  opposite  to  a  vein  of  coal  on  the 
Indiana  side,  the  coal  having  been  pur- 
chased some  time  previously  for  the  steam- 
er's use.  They  found  a  large  quantity 
already  quarried  to  their  hand  and  con- 
veyed to  the  shore  by  depredators,  who, 
however,  had  not  means  to  carry  it  off; 
and  with  this  they  commenced  loading. 
While  thus  engaged,  the  voyagers  were 
accosted  in  great  alarm  by  the  squatters  in 
the  neighborhood,  who  inquired  if  they  had 
not  heard  strange  noises  on  the  river  and 
in  the  woods  in  the  course  of  the  preceding 
day,  and  perceived  the  shores  shake — 
insisting  that  they  had  repeatedly  heard 
the  earth  tremble.  Hitherto,  however, 
nothing  remarkable  had  been  perceived, 
and  the  following  day  they  continued 
their  monotonous  voyage  in  those  vast  sol- 
itudes. The  weather  was  oppressively 
hot;  the  air  misty,  still  and  dull;  and 
though  the  sun  was  visible,  like  an 
immense  and  glowing  ball  of  copper,  his 
rays  hardly  shed  more  than  a  mournful 
twilight  on  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Evening  drew  nigh,  and  with  it  some 
indications  of  what  was  passing  around 
them  became  evident,  for  they  ever  and 
anon  heard  a  rushing  sound  and  violent 
splash,  and  finally  saw  large  portions  of 
the  shore  tearing  away  from  the  land  and 
lapsing  into  the  watery  abyss.  An  eye- 
witness says :  "  It  was  a  startling  scene 
—one  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop  on 
deck.  The  crew  spoke  but  little;  they 
noticed,  too,  that  the  comet,  for  some  time 
visible  in  the  heavens,  had  suddenly  dis- 
appeared, and  every  one  on  board  wa» 
thunderstruck." 


158 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


SCENE   OF  THE  GREAT   EARTHQUAKE   IX  THE  WFST. 


The  second  day  after  leaving  the  Yellow 
Banks,  the  sun  rose  over  the  forests,  the 
same  dim  ball  of  fire,  and  the  air  was  thick, 
heavy,  and  oppressive,  as  before.  The 
portentous  signs  of  this  terrible  natural 
convulsion  increased.  Alarmed  and  con- 
fused, the  pilot  affirmed  he  was  lost — as 
he  found  the  channel  everywhere  altered ; 
and  where  he  had  hitherto  known  deep 
water,  there  lay  numberless  trees  with 
their  roots  upward.  The  trees  that  still 
remained  were  seen  waving  and  nodding 
on  the  banks,  without  a  wind.  The 
adventurers  had  of  course  no  choice  but  to 
continue  their  route  as  best  they  could, 
but  towards  evening  they  were  at  a  loss 
for  a  place  of  shelter.  They  had  usually 
brought  to,  under  the  shore,  but  at  all 
points  they  saw  the  high  banks  disappear- 
ing, overwhelming  many  an  unfortunate 
craft,  from  which  the  owners  had  landed, 
in  the  hope  of  effecting  their  escape.  A 
large  island  in  mid-channel,  which  had 
been  selected  by  the  pilot  as  the  better 
alternative,  was  sought  for  in  vain,  having 
totally  disappeared,  and  thousands  of 
acres  constituting  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, were  found  to  have  been  swallowed 
up,  with  their  gigantic  growth  of  forest 
and  cane.  , 


Thus,  in  doubt  and  terror,  they  pro- 
ceeded hour  after  hour,  until  dark,  when 
they  found  a  small  island,  and  rounded  to, 
mooring  at  the  foot  of  it.  Here  they  lay, 
keeping  watch  on  deck,  during  the  long 
night,  listening  to  the  sound  of  the  waters 
which  roared  and  whirled  wildly  around 
them — hearing,  also,  from  time  to  time, 
the  rushing  earth  slide  from  the  shore, 
and  the  commotion  of  the  falling  mass  as 
it  became  engulfed  in  the  river.  The 
lady  of  the  party  was  frequently  awakened 
from  her  restless  slumber,  by  the  jar  of 
the  furniture  and  loose  articles  in  the 
cabin,  as  in  the  course  of  the  night  the 
shock  of  the  passing  earthquake  was  com- 
municated to  the  bows  of  the  vessel.  The 
morning  dawned  and  showed  they  were 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  The  shores 
and  channel  were  now  equally  unrecogniz- 
able— everything  seemed  changed.  About 
noon  that  day  they  reached  New  Madrid. 
Here  the  inhabitants  were  in  the  greatest 
consternation  and  distress.  Part  of  the 
population  had  fled  for  their  lives  to  the 
higher  grounds  ;  others  prayed  to  be  taken 
on  board  the  steamer,  as  the  earth  was 
opening  in  fissures  on  every  side,  and  their 
houses  hourly  falling  around  them.  Pro- 
ceeding thence  they  found  the  Mississippi, 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


159 


at  all  times  a  fearful  stream,  unusually 
swollen,  turbid,  and  full  of  trees,  and  after 
many  days  of  extreme  danger,  finally 
reached  Natchez. 

After  shaking  the  valley  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi to  its  center,  the  earthquake 
vibrated  along  the  courses  of  the  rivers 
and  valleys,  and,  passing  the  primitive 
mountain  barriers,  died  away  along  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  ocean.  In  the 
region  of  its  greatest  force,  and  pending 
the  tremendous  elemental  strife  which 
finally  ensued,  the  current  of  the  Missis- 
sippi was  driven  back  from  its  source  with' 
appalling  velocity  for  several  hours,  in  con- 
sequence of  an  elevation  of  its  bed.  But 
the  noble  river  was  not  thus  to  be  stayed 
in  its  course.  Its  accumulated  waters 
came  booming  on,  and,  overtopping  the 
barrier  thus  suddenly  raised,  carried  every 
thing  before  them  with  resistless  power. 
Boats,  then  floating  on  its  surface,  shot 
down  the  declivity  like  an  arrow  from  a 
bow,  amid  roaring  billows  and  the  wildest 
disorder.  A  few  days'  action  of  its  power- 
ful current  sufficed  to  wear  away  every 
vestige  of  the  barrier  thus  strangely  inter- 
posed, and  its  waters  moved  on  in  their 
wonted  channel  to  the  ocean,  seemingly 
rejoicing  in  their  triumph  over  the  oppos- 
ing elements  and  forces. 

The  day  that  succeeded  this  night  of 
dread  brought  no  solace  in  its  dawn. 
Shock  followed  shock  ;  a  dense  black  cloud 
of  vapor  overshadowed  the  land,  through 
which  no  struggling  sunbeam  found  its 
way  to  cheer  the  desponding  heart  of  man. 
The  appearances  that  presented  themselves 
after  the  subsidence  of  the  principal  com- 
motion were  indeed  staggering  to  the 
beholder.  Hills  had  disappeared,  and 
lakes  were  found  in  their  stead ;  numerous 
lakes  became  elevated  ground,  over  the 
surface  of  which  vast  heaps  of  sand  were 
scattered  in  every  direction ;  while  in 
many  places  the  earth  for  miles  was  sunk 
below  the  general  level  of  the  surrounding 
country,  without  being  covered  with  water, 
— leaving  an  impression  in  miniature  of  a 
catastrophe  much  more  important  in  its 
effects,  which  had,  perhaps,  preceded  It 


ages  before.  One  of  the  lakes  thus  formed 
is  sixty  or  seventy  miles  in  length,  and 
from  three  to  twenty  miles  in  breadth ;  it 
is  also  in  some  places  very  shallow,  and  in 
others  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  deep, 
which  latter  is  much  more  than  the  depth 
of  the  Mississippi  river  in  that  quarter. 
In  sailing  over  i*s  surface,  one  is  struck 
with  astonishment  at  beholding  the  gigan- 
tic trees  of  the  forest  standing  partially 
exposed  amid  the  waste  of  waters,  branch- 
less and  leafless,  like  gaunt,  mysterious 
monsters.  But  this  wonder  is  still  further 
increased  on  casting  the  eye  on  the  dark- 
blue  profound,  to  witness  cane-brakes  cov- 
ering its  bottom,  over  which  a  mammoth 
species  of  tortoise  is  occasionally  seen  drag- 
ging its  slow  length  along,  while  countless 
millions  of  fish  are  sporting  through  the 
aquatic  thickets, — the  whole  constituting 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in 
American  scenery  and  topography. 

The  lost  hills  or  islands  before  men- 
tioned are  of  various  extent ;  some  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  in  circumference,  others 
not  so  large,  and  some  are  even  diminutive 
in  size,  but  of  great  altitude ;  occasionally 
furnished  with  fountains  of  living  water, 
and  all  well  timbered.  The  low  grounds 
are  in  the  form  of  basins,  connected  by 
openings  or  hollows ;  these,  not  being  as 
deep  as  the  bottom  of  their  reservoirs,  it 
happens  that,  when  an  inundation  takes 
place,  either  from  the  Mississippi  river  or 
streams  issuing  from  the  surrounding 
highlands,  they  are  filled  to  overflowing — 
and,  when  the  waters  recede  below  a  level 
with  these  points  of  communication,  they 
become  stagnant  pools,  passing  off  by  the 
process  of  infiltration,  which  is  very  slow, 
in  a  thick,  black,  tenacious  loam,  or  by 
evaporation  equally  gradual,  in  a  country 
covered  by  forests  and  impenetrable 
jungle.  At  New  Madrid  and  its  vicinity, 
the  earth  broke  into  innumerable  fissures  ; 
the  church-yard,  with  its  dead,  was  torn 
from  the  bank  and  embosomed  in  the 
turbid  stream;  and  in  many  places,  the 
gaping  earth  unfolded  its  secrets,  —  the 
bones  of  the  gigantic  mastodon  and  ich- 
thyosaurus, hidden  within  its  bosom  for 


160 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


ages,  being  brought  to  the  surface.  Even 
at  the  present  day,  frequent  slight  shocks 
of  earthquake  are  there  felt,  and  it  is 
asserted  that,  in  the  vast  swamp  at  the 
back  of  the  town,  strange  sounds  may  at 
times  be  heard,  as  of  some  mighty  cauldron 
seething  and  bubbling  in  the  bowels  of  the 
earth. 

Flint,  the  geographer,  who  visited  the 
country  seven  years  after  the  event,  says 
that,  at  the  time  of  his  visit,  a  district 
west  of  New  Madrid  still  remained  cov- 
ered with  water,  and  that  the  neighboring 
forest  presented  a  scene  of  great  confusion. 
He  also  saw  hundreds  of  deep  chasms  re- 
maining in  the  alluvial  soil,  which  were 
produced,  according  to  the  inhabitants,  by 
the  bursting  of  the  earth,  which  rose  in 
great  undulations,  and  discharged  prodig- 
ious volumes  of  water,  sand,  and  coaly 
matter,  thrown  up  to  a  great  height.  As 
the  shocks  lasted  throughout  a  period  of 
three  months,  the  country  people  remarked 
that,  in  particular  districts,  there  were 
certain  prevailing  directions  in  which  the 
fissures  opened,  and  they  accordingly 
felled  the  tallest  trees,  making  them  fall 
at  right  angles  to  the  direction  of  the 
chasms.  By  stationing  themselves  on 
these,  the  inhabitants  often  escaped  being 
swallowed  up  when  the  earth  opened 
beneath  them. 

During  the  visit  of  Sir  Charles  Lyell  to 
this  region,  in  1846,  Mr.  Bringier,  the 
well-known  engineer,  related  to  him  that 
he  was  on  horseback  near  New  Madrid,  in 
1811,  when  some  of  the  severest  shocks 
were  experienced,  and  that,  as  the  waves 
advanced,  he  saw  the  trees  bend  down,  and 
often,  the  instant  afterward,  when  in  the 
act  of  recovering  their  position,  meet  the 
boughs  of  other  trees  similarly  inclined,  so 
as  to  become  interlocked,  being  prevented 
from  righting  themselves  again.  The 
transit  of  the  wave  through  the  woods  was 
marked  by  the  crashing  noise  of  countless 
branches,  first  heard  on  one  side  and  then 
on  the  other.  At  the  same  time,  powerful 
jets  of  water,  mixed  with  sand,  loam  and 
bituminous  shale,  were  cast  up  with  such 
:ropetuosity,  that  both  horse  and  rider 


might  have  perished,  had  the  swelling  and 
upheaving  ground  happened  to  burst  im- 
mediately beneath  them.  Some  of  the 
shocks  were  perpendicular,  while  others, 
much  more  desolating,  were  horizontal,  or 
moved  along  like  great  waves ;  and  \vhere 
the  principal  fountains  of  mud  and  water 
were  thrown  up,  circular  cavities,  called 
sink-holes,  were  formed. 

Hearing  that  some  of  these  cavities  still 
existed  near  the  town,  Professor  Lyell 
went  to  see  one  of  them,  three-quarters  of 
a  mile  to  the  westward.  There  he  found 
a  nearly  circular  hollow,  ten  yards  wide, 
and  five  feet  deep,  with  a  smaller  one  near 
it,  and,  scattered  about  the  surrounding 
level  ground,  were  fragments  of  black 
bituminous  shale,  with  much  white  sand. 
Within  a  distance  of  a  few  hundred  yards, 
were  five  more  of  these  "  sand-bursts,"  or 
"sand-blows,"  as  they  are  sometimes 
termed,  and,  about  a  mile  farther  west, 
there  is  still  pointed  out  "the  sink-hole 
where  the  negro  was  drowned."  It  is  a 
striking  object,  interrupting  the  regularity 
of  a  flat  plain,  the  sides  very  steep,  and 
twenty-eight  feet  deep  from  the  top  to  the 
water's  edge. 

In  the  interesting  account  of  this  region 
and  of  the  event  in  question,  furnished  by 
Professor  Lyell,  in  his  book  of  travels,  he 
relates  the  reminiscences  of  a  citizen  of 
New  Madrid,  who  witnessed  the  earth- 
quake when  a  child.  He  described  the 
camping  out  of  the  people  in  the  night 
when  the  first  shocks  occurred,  and  how 
some  were  wounded  by  the  falling  of  chim- 
neys, and  the  bodies  of  others  drawn  out 
of  the  ruins ;  and  confirmed  the  published 
statements  of  the  inhabitants  having 
availed  themselves  of  fallen  trees  to  avoid 
being  engulfed  in  open  fissures, — a  singu- 
lar mode  of  escape,  which,  curiously 
enough,  had  been  adopted  spontaneously 
in  different  and  widely-distant  places,  at 
the  same  time,  even  little  children  throw- 
ins  themselves  thus  on  the  felled  trunks. 
Lyell  was  then  invited  to  go  and  see  sev- 
eral fissures  still  open,  which  had  been 
caused  by  the  undulatory  movement  of  the 
ground,  some  of  them  jagged,  otheid  e^en 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


361 


and  straight.  Two  of  them  were  traced 
continuously  for  more  than  half  a  mile, 
and  a  few  were  found  to  he  parallel ;  hut, 
on  the  whole,  they  varied  greatly  in  direc- 
tion, some  being  ten  and  others  forty-five 
degrees  west  of  north.  They  might  easily 
have  been  mistaken  for  artificial  trenches, 
though  formerly  as  deep  as  wells ;  the 
action  of  rains,  frost,  and  occasional  inun- 
dations, and,  above  all,  the  leaves  of  the 
forest  blown  into  them  in  countless  num- 
bers, have  done  much  to  fill  them  up. 

In  that  part  of  the  forest  which  borders 
what  is  called  the  "sunk  country,"  all  the 
trees  of  a  date  prior  to  1811,  although 
standing  erect  and  entire,  are  dead.  They 
are  most  noticeable  objects,  are  chiefly 
oaks  and  walnuts,  with  trunks  several  feet 
in  diameter,  and  many  of  them  more  than 
two  hundred  years  old.  They  are  sup- 
posed to  have  been  killed  by  the  loosening 
of  the  roots  during  the  repeated  undula- 
tions which  passed  through  the  soil  for 
three  months  in  succession.  The  higher 
level  plain,  where  these  dead  monarchs  of 
the  forest  stand,  terminates  abruptly 


newer  than  1812.  The  "  sunk  country " 
extends  along  the  course  of  the  White 
Water  and  its  tributaries  for  a  distance  of 
between  seventy  and  eighty  miles  north 
and  south,  and  thirty  miles  east  and  west. 
It  is  not,  however,  confined  to  the  region 
west  of  the  Mississippi ;  for  several  exten- 
sive forest  tracts  in  Tennessee  were  sub- 
merged during  the  shocks  of  1811-12, 
and  have  ever  since  formed  lakes  and 
swamps. 

The  earthquakes  in  California,  especially 
those  which  occurred  in  1865  and  1868, 
and  both  in  the  month  of  October,  were 
the  most  disastrous  in  respect  to  the  value 
of  property  destroyed,  that  of  October  21, 
1868,  being  particularly  so.  At  San 
Francisco,  the  motion  was  east  and  west, 
and  several  buildings  on  Pine,  Battery, 
and  Sansome  streets  were  thrown  down, 
and  a  considerable  number  badly  damaged. 
The  ground  settled,  which  threw  the  build- 
ings out  of  line.  The  principal  damage 
was  confined  to  the  lower  portion  of  the 
city,  below  Montgomery  street,  and  among 
old  buildings  on  the  made  ground.  The 


EARTHQUAKE  SCENE  IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 


toward  the  bayou  St.  John,  and  the  sudden 
descent  of  eight  or  ten  feet  throughout  an 
area  four  or  five  miles  long,  and  fifty  or 
sixty  broad,  was  one  of  the  strange  results 
of  the  earthquake.  At  the  lower  level  are 
seen  cypresses  and  cotton-wood,  and  other 
trees  which  delight  in  wet  ground,  all 


custom-house,  a  brick  building  erected  on 
pile  ground,  which  was  badly  shattered  in 
the  earthquake  of  1865,  had  now  to  be 
abandoned  as  unsafe.  Business  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  city  was  suspended,  the 
streets  were  thronged  with  people,  and 
great  excitement  prevailed.  The  parapets, 


162 


EARTHQUAKE  AT  THE  WEST. 


walls  and  chimneys  of  a  number  of  houses 
fell,  causing  Joss  of  life  and  many  accidents. 
At  one  place,  the  ground  opened  several 
inches  wide  and  about  forty  or  fifty  feet 
long ;  and  in  other  places,  the  ground 
opened,  and  water  forced  itself  above  the 
surface.  The  water  in  the  bay  was  per- 
fectly smooth  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence, 
and  no  perceptible  disturbance  took  place 
there;  the  shock  was  felt  aboard  the  ship- 
ping in  the  harbor,  as  if  the  vessels  had 
struck  upon  the  rocks.  The  morning  was 
moderately  warm,  and  a  dense  fog  covered 
the  city.  Not  the  slightest  breeze  was 
perceptible.  The  first  indication  of  the 
approach  of  the  earthquake  was  a  slight 
rumbling  sound,  as  of  something  rolling 
along  the  sidewalk,  coming  apparently 
from  the  direction  of  the  ocean.  The 
shock  commenced  in  the  form  of  slow,  hor- 
izontal movements,  while  the  movements 
of  the  great  earthquake  of  1865  were  per- 
pendicular. The  effect  on  buildings,  too, 
of  the  earthquake  of  1868,  was  widely  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  1865.  In  the  latter, 
glass  was  broken  and  shivered  into  atoms 
in  all  the  lower  parts  of  the  city,  by  the 
perpendicular  oscillations,  while  compara- 
tively few  walls  were  shaken  down  or  badly 
shattered.  The  earthquake  of  1868  broke 
very  little  glass,  but  the  damage  by  the 
falling  of  cornices,  awnings,  and  walls, 
was  immense.  Mantel  ornaments  and 
shelved  crockery  were  everywhere  thrown 


down  and  broken;  top-heavy  articles  of 
furniture  tumbled  over ;  tanks  and  dishes 
containing  water  or  other  liquids  slopped 
their  contents;  clocks  stopped  running; 
door -bells  rang  ;  tall  structures,  like 
steeples  and  towers,  were  seen  to  sway, 
and  the  motion  of  the  earth  under  the 
feet  was  unpleasantly  plain  to  walkers ; 
horses  started  and  snorted,  exhibiting 
every  sign  of  fear,  and  in  some  cases  dash- 
ing off  furiously  with  their  riders ;  dogs 
crouched,  trembling  and  whining ;  and 
fowls  flew  to  the  trees,  uttering  notes  of 
alarm.  The  panic  among  women  and 
children  was,  for  a  time,  excessive,  and 
their  cries  and  tears  were  very  moving. 

At  Oakland,  the  shock  was  very  severe, 
throwing  down  chimneys,  and  greatly 
damaging  buildings ;  in  several  localities, 
the  ground  opened,  and  a  strong  sulphu- 
rous smell  was  noticed  after  the  shock. 
The  court-house  at  San  Leandro  was 
demolished  and  one  life  lost.  At  San 
Jose,  several  buildings  were  injured.  The 
large  brick  court-house  at  Redwood  City 
was  completely  wrecked.  The  shock  was 
light  at  Marysville  and  Sonora,  and  severe 
at  Grass  Valley.  It  was  also  felt,  with  a 
good  deal  of  severity,  in  Stockton,  Sonoma, 
San  Lorenzo,  Alvarado,  San  Mateo,  Peta- 
luma,  Vallejo,  and  Sacramento;  in  the 
latter  place,  flag-staffs  and  trees  vibrated 
ten  feet,  and  the  water  in  the  river  rose 
and  fell  a  foot  and  a  half. 


XX. 

AMERICA    AND    ENGLAND    MATCHED    AGAINST     EACH 
OTHER   IN    SQUADRON    COMBAT.— 1813. 


Lake  Erie  the  Scene  of  the  Encounter. — Sixteen  Vessels  Engaged. — The  British,  under  Captain  Bar- 
clay, one  of  Lord  Nelson's  Veteran  Officers,  and  with  a  Superior  Force,  are  Thoroughly  Beaten  by 
the  Americans,  under  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry. — Every  British  Vessel  Captured  — General  Harrison 
Completes  the  Victorious  Work  on  Land  — Building  of  the  Fleet  on  the  Lake. — Great  Difficulties  to  be 
Overcome. — Commodore  Perry  the  Master  Spirit. — Completion  and  Sailing  of  the  Fleet. — Challenge 
to  the  Enemy. — Line  of  Battle  Formed. — Perry's  Blue  Union-Jack. — Its  Motto,  "  Don't  Give  Up  the 
Ship!" — Wild  Enthusiasm  of  his  Men. — Flagship  Lawrence  in  the  Van. — Meets  the  Whole  Opposing 
Fleet. — Badly  Crippled  in  a  T\\  o  Hours'  Fight. — Huzzas  of  the  Enemy. — The  Day  Supposed  to  be 
Theirs  — Indomitable  Resolution  of  Perry. — lie  Puts  Off  in  an  Open  Boat. — Reaches  the  Niagara  with 
His  Flag. — Again  Battles  with  the  Foe. — Severe  and  Deadly  Conflict. — American  Prowess  Invincible. 
— Barclay  Strikes  His  Colors. — Perry  only  Twenty-seven  Years  Old. 


"  We  have  met  the  enemy,  and  they  are  oun."—  FEBKT'S  MEMORABLE  DISPATCH  Anirocirciiro  His  VICTORY, 


fOREIGN  nations,  who  still  smiled  incredulously  at  the  pre- 
51  tensions  of  the  United  States  in  carrying  on  an  ocean  war- 
ii  fare  with  the  proud  "  mistress  of  the  seas," — as  England 
^  was  everywhere  acknowledged  to  be, — were  now  to  receive, 
in  addition  to  the  splendid  victory  of  the  United  States 
frigate  Constitution  over  the  Guerriere,  fresh  and  decisive 
PERRY'S  FLAG  ON  LAKE  sure,  proof  of  the  naval  supremacy  of  the  youthful  republic,  in  the 
magnificent  triumph  achieved  by  Commodore  Oliver  H.  Perry,  on  the  waters  of  Lake 
Erie.  Here,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  western  world,  the  flag  of  a 
British  squadron  was  struck,  humiliatingly,  to  the  Americans.  Great  Britain  had 
already  been  signally  defeated  in  single  naval  combats,  during  the  present  contest; 
she  was  now  beaten  in  squadron, — every  one  of  her  ships  striking  their  colors  to 
the  stars  and  stripes. 

The  unexpected  and  disgraceful  surrender  of  the  northern  army  under  General 
Hull,  to  the  British,  rendered  a  superior  force  on  Lake  Erie  necessary  for  the  de- 
fense of  the  American  territory  bordering  on  the  lake,  as  well  as  for  offensive  opera- 
tions in  Canada.  Under  these  circumstances  Oliver  H.  Perry,  a  brave  and  accom- 
plished young  officer,  who  had  the  command  of  a  gunboat  flotilla  for  the  defense 
of  New  York,  was  designated  to  the  command  on  Lake  Erie.  But,  at  this  time,  the 
United  States  possessed  no  naval  force  on  the  lake ;  the  only  vessels  belonging  to 
the  government  were  captured  at  Detroit.  The  southern  or  American  lake  shore, 
being  principally  a  sand  beach  formed  by  the  sediment  driven  by  the  northerlj 


164 


THE  FIRST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


winds,  afforded  but  few  harbors,  and  those 
encumbered  with  bars  at  their  entrance. 
At  Presque  Isle,  ninety  miles  west  of  Buf- 
falo, a  peninsula  extending  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  lake  encircles  a  harbor,  on 
the  borders  of  which  was  the  port  of  Erie. 

At  this  place,  Commodore  Perry  was 
directed  to  locate,  and  superintend  a  naval 
establishment,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
create  a  superior  force  on  the  l:ike.  The  ' 
difficulties  of  building  a  navy  in  the  wil- 
derness can  only  be  conceived  by  those 
who  have  experienced  them.  There  was 
nothing  at  this  spot  out  of  which  it  could 
be  built,  but  the  timber  of  the  forest. 
Ship-builders,  sailors,  naval  stores,  guns, 
and  ammunition,  were  all  to  be  transported 
by  land,  in  wagons,  and  over  bad  roads,  a 
distance  of  four  hundred  miles,  either  from 
Albany  by  the  way  of  Buffalo,  cr  from 
Philadelphia  by  the  way  of  Pittsburg. 
But  under  all  these  embarrassments,  ~fcy 
the  first  of  August,  1813,  Commodore 
Perry  had  provided  a  flotilla,  consisting  of 
the  ships  Lawrence  and  Niagara,  of  twenty 
guns  each,  and  seven  smaller  vessels,  to 
wit,  one  of  four  guns,  one  of  three,  two  of 
two,  and  three  of  one. 

While  the  ships  were  building,  the 
enemy  frequently  appeared  off  the  harbor 
and  threatened  their  destruction  ;  but  the 
shallowness  of  the  water  on  the  bar,  there 
being  but  five  feet,  prevented  their  ap- 
proach. The  same  cause,  which  insured 
the  safety  of  the  vessels  while  building, 
seemed  likely  to  prevent  their  being  of 
any  service  when  completed.  The  two 
largest  drew  several  feet  more  water  than 
there  was  on  the  bar.  The  inventive 
genius  of  Perry,  however,  soon  surmounted 
this  difficulty.  He  placed  large  scows  on 
each  side  of  these  two,  filled  them  so  that 
they  sank  to  the  water-edge,  then  attached 
them  to  the  ships  by  strong  pieces  of 
timber,  and  pumped  out  the  water.  The 
scows,  in  this  way,  buoyed  up  the  ships, 
enabling  them  to  pass  the  bar  in  safety. 
This  operation  was  performed  in  the  very 
eyes  of  the  enemy. 

Having  gotten  his  fleet  in  readiness, 
Commodore  Perry  proceeded  to  the  head 


of  the  lake  and  anchored  in  Put-in  Bay, 
opposite  to  and  distant  thirty  miles  from 
Maiden,  where  the  British  fleet  lay  under 
the  guns  of  the  fort.  He  remained  at 
anchor  here  several  days,  watching  the 
British  fleet,  and  waiting  a  chance  to 
offer  battle. 

On  the  morning  of  the  tenth  of  Septem- 
ber, 1813,  the  enemy  was  discovered  bear- 
ing down  upon  the  American  force,  which 
immediately  got  under  weigh,  and  stood 
out  to  meet  him.  Perry  had  nine  vessels, 
consisting  of  the  Lawrence,  his  flag-ship, 
of  twenty  guns ;  the  Niagara,  Captain 
Elliott,  of  twenty  ;  the  Caledonian,  Lieu- 
tenant Turner,  of  three;  the  schooner 
Ariel,  of  four ;  the  Scorpion,  of  two  •  the 
Somers,  of  two  guns  and  two  swivels ;  the 
sloop  Trippe,  and  schooners  Tigress  and 
Porcupine,  of  one  gun  each. 

The  force  of  the  British  consisted  of  the 
Detroit,  flag-ship  of  Commodore  Barclay, 
and  carrying  nineteen  guns  and  two  how- 
itzers ;  the  Queen  Charlotte,  Captain 
Finnis,  of  seventeen  guns ;  the  schooner 
Lady  Prevost,  Lieutenant  Bucban,  of 
thirteen  guns  and  two  howitzers  ;  the  brig 
Hunter,  of  ten  guns ;  the  sloop  Little 
Belt,  of  three  guns ;  and  the  schooner 
Chippewa,  of  one  gun  and  two  swivels. 
Thus,  the  belligerents  stood,  in  respect  to 
force  and  power,  as  follows :  The  Ameri- 
cans had  nine  vessels,  carrying  fifty-four 
guns  and  two  swivels ;  the  British,  six 
vessels,  carrying  sixty-three  guns,  four 
howitzers,  and  two  swivels. 

Commodore  Perry  got  under  way  with 
a  light  breeze  at  the  south-west.  Sum- 
moning his  commanding  officers  by  signal 
to  the  deck  of  the  Lawrence,  he  gave  them 
in  a  few  words  their  last  instructions  pre- 
paratory to  the  approaching  battle,  and, 
unfolding  his  union-jack,  a  blue  flag  upon 
which  was  inscribed  in  white  letters  the 
motto  of  the  American  navy,  "DON'T 
GIVE  UP  THE  SHIP  ! "  The  sight  of  this 
flag,  bearing  upon  it  the  dying  words  of 
the  brave  Captain  Lawrence,  brought  the 
most  enthusiastic  cheers  from  the  crew. 
As  the  officers  were  about  taking  their 
leave,  Perry  declared  that  it  was  his 


THE  FIRST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


165 


intention  to  bring  the  enemy  to  close  quar- 
ters from  the  first,  and  that  he  could  not 
advise  them  better  than  in  the  words  of 
Lord  Nelson — "If  you  lay  your  enemy 
close  alongside,  you  can  not  be  out  of  your 
place."  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  ap- 
proach of  the  enemy  warranted  the  display 
of  the  signal,  every  vessel  was  under  sail, 
beating  out  against  a  light  head-wind,  and 
with  the  boats  ahead  towing.  The  object 
was,  to  beat  to  the  windward  of  the 
islands  which  now  interposed  between  the 
two  approaching  squadrons,  and,  thus  gain- 
ing the  weather-gauge,  to  bear  down  with 
that  important  advantage  upon  the  foe. 
The  wind,  however,  was  light  and  baffling; 
and  Perry's  patience  was  so  severely  tried 
by  the  incessant  tacking,  that,  seeing  time 
lost,  and  but  little  progress  made,  he 
called  out  to  his  sailing-master, — 

"  Taylor,  you  wear  ship  and  run  to  the 
leeward  of  the  islands." 

"  Then  we'll  have  to  engage  the  enemy 
from  the  leeward,"  exclaimed  Taylor. 

"I  don't  care — to  windward  or  to  lee- 
ward, they  shall  fight  to-d.ay,"  was  Perry's 
instant  response. 


He  now  formed  the  line  of  battle,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east, 
thus  bearing  the  squadron  clear  of  the 
islands,  a^nd  enabling  it  to  keep  the 
weather-gauge.  But  the  moderateness  of 
the  breeze  caused  the  hostile  squadrons  to 
approach  each  other  but  slowly,  thus  pro- 


longing the  solemn  interval  of  suspense 
and  anxiety  which  precedes  a  battle.  The 
order  and  regularity  of  naval  discipline 
heightened  the  dreadful  quiet  of  this 
impressive  prelude.  No  noise,  no  bustle, 
prevailed  to  distract  the  mind — except,  at 
intervals,  the  shrill  pipings  of  the  boat- 
swain's  whistle,  or  a  murmuring  whisper 
among  the  men,  who  stood  in  groups 
around  their  guns,  with  lighted  matches, 
narrowly  watching  the  movements  of  the 
foe,  and  sometimes  stealing  a  glance  at  the 
countenances  of  their  commanders.  In 
this  manner,  the  opposing  fleets  gradually 
neared  each  other  in  awful  silence.  Even 
the  sick  felt  a  thrill  of  the  pervading  deep 
emotion,  and,  with  fancied  renewal  of 
strength,  offered  their  feeble  services  in 
the  coming  conflict.  To  one  of  these  poor 
fellows,  who  had  crawled  up  on  deck,  to 
have  a  hand  in  the  fight,  the  sailing-master 
said: 

"Go  below,  Mays,  you  are  too  weak  to 
be  here." 

"  I  can  do  something,  sir,"  replied  the 
brave  old  tar. 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  " 
"  I  can  sound  the  pump,  sir,  and  let  a 
strong  man  go  to  the  guns." 

It  was  even  so.  He  sat  down  by  the 
pump,  and  sent  the  strong  man  to  the 
guns;  and  when  the  fight  was  ended, 
there  he  was  found,  with  a  ball  in  his 
heart.  He  was  from  Newport ;  his  name, 
Wilson  Mays  ;  his  monument  and  epitaph, 
the  grateful  memory  of  a  whole  nation. 

As  they  were  coming  nearer  and  nearer 
the  British  fleet  (says  Dr.  Tomes,  in  his 
admirable  delineation  of  this  battle),  and 
by  twelve  o'clock  would  certainly  be  in 
the  midst  of  action,  the  noonday-grog  was 
served  in  advance,  and  the  bread-bags 
freely  emptied.  In  a  moment  after,  how- 
ever, every  man  was  again  at  quarters. 
Perry  now  went  round  the  deck,  from  gun 
to  gun,  stopping  at  each,  carefully  exam- 
ining its  condition,  and  passing  a  cheerful 
word  with  the  "captain."  Recognizing 
some  of  the  old  tars  who  had  served  on 
board  the  Constitution,  he  said,  "Well, 
boys  !  are  you  ready  ? "  "  All  ready) 


100 


THE  FIKST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


your  honor ! "  was  the  prompt  reply,  as 
they  touched  their  tarpaulins,  or  the  hand- 
kerchiefs in  which  some  of  them  had 
wrapped  their  heads,  that  they  might  be  as 
unencumbered  as  possible  for  the  fight. 
"But  I  need  not  say  anything  to  you," 
rejoined  their  commander  —  "  you  know 
how  to  beat  these  fellows" — and  he  passed 
on.  His  face  now  beamed  with  a  smile  of 
friendly  interest  as  he  recognized  some  of 
his  fellow-townsmen,  exclaiming,  "  Ah, 
here  are  the  Newport  boys  !  They  will  do 
their  duty,  I  warrant." 

At  fifteen  minutes  after  eleven,  a  bugle 
was  sounded  on  board  the  enemy's  head- 
most ship,  the  Detroit,  loud  cheers  burst 
from  all  their  crews,  and  a  tremendous  fire 
opened  upon  the  Lawrence,  from  the 
British  long-guns,  and  which,  from  the 
shortness  of  the  Lawrence's,  the  latter  was 
obliged  to  sustain  for  some  forty  minutes, 
without  being  able  to  return  a  shot. 

Losing  no  time  in  waiting  for  the  other 
ships,  Commodore  Perry  kept  on  his  course 
in  such  gallant  and  determined  style,  that 
the  enemy  supposed  he  meant  immediately 
to  board.  At  about  twelve  o'clock,  having 
gained  a  more  favorable  position,  the  Law- 
rence opened  her  fire,  but  the  long-guns  of 
the  British  still  gave  them  greatly  the 
advantage,  and  the  Lawrence  was  exceed- 
ingly cut  up,  without  being  able  to  do 
much  of  any  damage  in  return.  Their 
shot  pierced  her  side  in  all  directions,  even 
killing  the  men  in  the  berth-deck  and 
steerage,  where  they  had  been  carried  to 
be  dressed.  One  shot  had  nearly  produced 
a  fatal  explosion ;  passing  through  the 
light  room,  it  knocked  the  snuff  of  the 
candle  into  the  magazine — but  which  was 
fortunately  seen  by  the  gunner,  who  had 
the  presence  of  mind  immediately  to  seize 
and  extinguish  it.  It  appeared  to  be  the 
enemy's  plan  at  all  events  to  destroy  the 
commander's  ship ;  their  heaviest  fire  was 
directed  against  the  Lawrence,  and  blazed 
incessantly  from  all  their  largest  vessels. 

Finding  the  peculiar  and  imminent 
hazard  of  his  situation,  Perry  made  all 
sail,  and  directed  the  other  vessels  to 
follow,  for  the  purpose  of  closing  with  the 


enemy.  The  tremendous  fire,  however, 
to  which  he  was  exposed,  soon  cut  away 
every  brace  and  bowline  of  the  Lawrence, 
and  she  became  unmanageable.  The  other 
vessels  were  unable  to  get  up;  and  in  this 
disastrous  situation,  therefore,  she  still 
continued  to  sustain  the  main  force  of  the 
enemy's  fire,  within  canister  distance, 
though,  during  a  considerable  part  of  this 
terrible  ordeal,  not  more  than  two  or  three 
of  her  guns  could  be  brought  to  bear  with 
any  material  effect  upon  her  antagonist. 

Throughout  all  this  scene  of  ghastly 
horror,  however,  the  utmost  order  and  reg- 
ularity prevailed,  without  the  least  sign  of 
trepidation  or  faintheartedness ;  as  fast  as 
the  men  at  the  guns  were  wounded,  they 
were  quietly  carried  below,  and  others 
stepped  manfully  into  their  places;  the 
dead  remained  where  they  fell,  until  after 
the  action. 

At  this  juncture,  the  enemy  believed 
the  battle  to  be  won.  The  Lawrence  was 
reduced  to  a  mere  wreck  ;  her  deck  was 
streaming  with  blood,  and  covered  with 
the  mangled  limbs  and  bodies  of  the  slain, 
nearly  the  whole  of  her  crew  were  either 
killed  or  wounded ;  her  guns,  too,  were 
dismounted, — the  commodore  and  his  offi- 
cers personally  working  the  last  that  was 
capable  of  service,  assisted  by  the  few 
hands  yet  remaining  capable  of  duty. 
According  to  the  account  given  by  Dr. 
Parsons,  the  surgeon  of  the  Lawrence,  the 
muscular  material  was  reduced  to  its  abso- 
lute minimum.  "When  the  battle  had 
raged  an  hour  and  a  half,"  says  Dr.  Par- 
sons, "  I  heard  a  call  for  me  at  the  small 
skylight,  and,  stepping  toward  it,  I  saw  it 
was  the  commodore,  whose  countenance 
was  calm  and  placid  as  if  on  ordinary 
duty.  '  Doctor,'  said  he,  '  send  me  one  of 
your  men,' — meaning  one  of  the  six  that 
were  to  assist  me ;  which  was  done  in- 
stantly. In  five  minutes  the  call  was 
repeated  and  obeyed ;  and  at  the  seventh 
call,  I  told  him  he  had  them  all.  He 
asked  if  any  could  pull  a  rope,  -when  two 
or  three  of  the  wounded  crawled  upon  deck 
to  lend  a  feeble  hand  in  pulling  at  the  last 
guns."  So  close  and  desperate  was  this 


THE  FlltST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


167 


conflict ;  so  brave  asd  courageous 
the  hearts  of  those  who  fought  for 
the  honor  and  rights  of  America. 

It  was  two  o'clock,  and  Captain 
Elliott,  of  the  Niagara,  was 
enabled  by  the  aid  of  a  fresh 
breeze  to  bring  his  ship  into 
close  action  in  gallant  style. 
Finding,  now,  that  no  resistance 
or  hostility  on  the  part  of  the 
Lawrence  could  be  profitably  per- 
sisted in,  Perry  suddenly  formed 
the  determination  to  shift  his  flag 
to  Elliott's  ship ;  and,  leaving  his 
own  vessel  in  charge  of  her 
lieutenant,  the  brave  and  gallant 
Yarnall,  he  hauled  down  his 
union-jack,  and,  taking  it  under 
his  arm,  ordered  a  boat  to  put 
him  on  board  the  Niagara.  He 
passed  the  line  of  the  enemy, 
exposed  to  a  perfect  shower  of 
their  musketry,  still  standing  in 
the  boat, — waving  his  sword  and 
gallantly  cheering  his  men, —  a 
marked  and  pointed  object  from 
three  of  the  enemy's  ships,  until 
he  was  forcibly  pulled  down  by 
his  own  men.  He  arrived  safe, 
and  tumultuous  huzzas  rent  the 
air  as  he  again  unfurled  and 
hoisted  aloft  his  union-jack,  with 
its  inspiring  motto,  'Don't  give 
up  the  ship ! '  gaily  kissing  the 
breeze.  On  seeing  their  noble 
commander  step  upon  the  deck  of 
the  Niagara,  the  crew  of  the 
Lawrence  —  the  few  that  yet 
remained  —  sent  up  three  lusty 
cheers.  The  question  with  which 
Elliott  first  saluted  Perry  was — 

"  How  is  the  day  going  ?  " 

"  Badly  !  "  was  the  brief  reply  ; 
"and  do  you  see  those  infernal 
gun-boats — they  have  lost  us  the 
victory ! " 

"  No ! "  exclaimed  Elliott ;  "  do 
you  take  command  of  this  ship, 
and  I  will  bring  up  the  boats." 

Elliott  at  once  put  off,  to  bring 
up  the  schooners  which  had  been 


108 


THE  FIEST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


kept  back  by  the  lightness  of  the  wind. 
At  this  moment,  the  flag  of  the  Lawrence 
was  hauled  down.  Lieutenant  Yarnall, 
upon  whom  the  command  of  the  vessel 
devolved  after  the  commodore  left  her, 
refused  for  some  time  to  leave  the  deck, 
though  more  than  once  wounded;  and 
Lieutenant  Brooks  and  Midshipman  Saul 
were  both  killed.  As  the  surgeon  was 
stooping,  in  the  act  of  dressing  or  examin- 
ing a  wound,  a  ball  passed  through  the 
ship  a  few  inches  from  his  head,  which, 
had  it  been  erect,  must  have  been  taken 
off.  The  principal  force  of  the  enemy's  fire 
had  now  been  sustained  uninterruptedly 
by  the  Lawrence,  and,  as  she  was  rendered 
totally  incapable  of  defense,  any  further 
show  of  resistance  would  have  been  a  use- 
less sacrifice  of  the  remnant  of  her  brave 
and  mangled  crew.  The  enemy  were  at 
the  same  time  so  crippled,  that  they  were 
unable  to  take  possession  of  her,  and  cir- 
cumstances soon  enabled  her  crew  again 
to  raise  the  American  flag. 

Commodore  Perry  now  gave  the  signal 
to  all  the  vessels  for  close  action.  The 
small  vessels,  under  the  direction  of  Elli- 
ott, got  out  their  sweeps,  and  made  all 
sail.  On  an  inspection  of  the  Niagara, 
and  finding  her  but  little  injured,  Perry 
determined  upon  the  bold  and  desperate 
expedient  of  breaking  the  enemy's  line ; 
he  accordingly  bore  up  and  passed  the 
head  of  the  two  ships  and  brig,  giving 
them  a  raking  fire  from  his  starboard 
guns,  and  also  a  raking  fire  upon  a  large 
schooner  and  sloop,  from  his  larboard 
quarter,  at  half  pistol  shot. 

Having  brought  the  whole  squadron 
into  action,  Perry  luffed  up  and  laid  his 
ship  alongside  of  the  British  commodore, 
Barclay,  of  the  Lady  Prevost.  Approach- 
ing within  half  pistol  shot,  Perry's  fire 
was  so  destructive  that  the  enemy's  men 
were  compelled  to  run  below.  At  this 
moment  the  wind  freshened,  and  the  Cal- 
edonia came  up  and  opened  her  fire  upon 
the  British;  and  several  others  of  the 
squadron  were  enabled  soon  after  to  do 
the  same, — the  small  vessels  having  now 
got  up  within  good  grape-and-canister 


distance  on  the  other  quarter,  inclosed 
their  enemy  between  them  and  the  Niag- 
ara, and  in  this  position  kept  up  a  most 
deadly  fire  on  both  quarters  of  the  British. 
For  a  time,  the  combat  raged  with  inde- 
scribable violence  and  fury.  The  result  of 
a  campaign — the  command  of  a  sea — the 
glory  and  renown  of  two  rival  nations 
matched  for  the  first  time  in  squadron, — 
these  were  the  issues  at  stake  which  in- 
spirited the  combatants.  The  contest  was 
not  long  doubtful.  The  Queen  Charlotte 
having  lost  her  captain  and  all  her  princi- 
pal officers,  by  some  mischance  ran  foul  of 
her  colleague,  the  Detroit.  By  this  acci- 
dent, the  greater  part  of  their  guns  were 
rendered  useless,  and  the  two  ships  were 
now  in  turn  compelled  to  sustain  an  inces- 
sant fire  from  the  Niagara  and  the  other 
vessels  of  the  American  squadron.  The 
flag  of  Captain  Barclay  soon  struck ;  and 
the  Queen  Charlotte,  the  Lady  Prevost, 
the  Hunter,  and  the  Chippewa,  surren- 
dered in  immediate  succession.  The 
Little  Belt  attempted  to  escape,  but  was 
pursued  by  two  gun-boats,  and  captured. 
Thus,  after  a  contest  of  three  hours,  was  a 
naval  victory  achieved  by  the  Americans, 
in  which  every  vessel  of  the  enemy  was 
captured.  If  anything  could  enhance  its 
brilliancy  it  was  the  modest  and  laconic 
manner  in  which,  Caesar-like,  it  was 
announced  by  the  gallant  victor — 

"WE  HAVE  MET  THE  ENEMY,  AND  THEY 
ABE  OUBS ! " 

The  carnage  in  this  action  was  very 
great  in  proportion  to  the  numbers  en- 
gaged. The  Americans  had  twenty-seven 
killed,  and  ninety-six  wounded.  The  loss 
of  the  British  was  about  two  hundred  in 
killed  and  wounded,  many  of  these  being 
officers  ;  and  the  prisoners,  amounting  to 
six  hundred,  exceeded  the  whole  number 
of  Americans.  Commodore  Barclay,  a 
gallant  sailor,  one  of  whose  arms  had  been 
shot  off  at  the  battle  of  Trafalgar,  under 
Lord  Nelson,  was  severely  wounded  in  the 
hip,  and  lost  the  use  of  his  remaining  arm. 
Perry  was  but  twenty-seven  years  old,  and 
had  scarcely  recovered  from  an  attack  of 
the  lake-fever,  when  he  thus  'met  the 


THE  FIRST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


ley 


enemy,' — a  circumstance  that  heightens 
the  estimate  to  be  put  upon  his  indomita- 
ble perseverance  and  bravery  on  this  occa- 
sion. To  his  adroit  transfer  of  his  com- 
mand to  the  Niagara,  passing  through  the 
thickest  of  the  battle  in  an  open  boat,  may 
fairly  be  attributed  his  brilliant  fortune 
on  that  eventful  day.  His  success  raised 
him  to  the  very  pinnacle  of  professional 
renown,  and  the  naval  supremacy  of  the 
United  States  upon  the  lakes  was  tri- 
umphantly secured. 

This  important  and  decisive  battle  was 
fought  midway  of  the  lake,  between  the 
two  hostile  armies,  who  lay  on  the  oppo- 
site shores,  waiting  in  anxious  expectation 
of  its  result, — the  allied  British  and  Indian 
forces,  to  the  amount  of  nearly  five  thou- 
sand, under  Proctor  and  Tecumseh,  being 
ready,  in  case  of  a  successful  issue,  to 
renew  their  ravages  on  the  American 
borders.  The  fruits  of  this  victory,  there- 
fore, were  such  as  to  cause  unbounded 
demonstrations  of  joy  in  the  United  States. 
All  party-feelings  were  for  the  time  for- 
gotten ;  and  the  glorious  occurrence  was 
celebrated  by  illuminations  and  festivities, 
from  one  end  of  the  continent  to  the  other. 
During  this  same  year,  our  gallant  navy 
was  victorious  in  the  capture  of  the  sloop- 
of-war  Peacock,  by  Captain  James  Law- 
rence ;  and  in  the  capture  of  the  brig 
Boxer,  by  the  Enterprise,  commanded  by 
Lieutenant  Barrows.  The  British,  how- 
ever, on  the  first  of  June,  rejoiced  in  the 
capture  of  the  Chesapeake  by  the  frigate 
Shannon,  off  Boston  harbor,  and,  on  the 
fourteenth  of  August,  in  the  capture  of  the 
Argus,  Captain  Allen,  by  the  Pelican. 
The  British  were  also  victorious  on  land, 
at  the  battles  of  Mackinaw,  Queenstown, 
Frenchtown,  and  some  other  points  ;  but 
lost  the  battles  of  York,  Fort  Meigs,  and 
the  Thames.  The  proposed  invasion  of 
Canada,  under  the  direction  of  Generals 
Dearborn,  Wilkinson,  Hampton,  Lewis, 
and  Izard,  proved  a  failure.  Such  a  vic- 
tory, therefore,  as  that  of  Perry,  was  well 
calculated  to  fill  the  nation  with  joy. 

The  struggle  being  ended,  and  Perry 
acquainting  himself  with  the  condition 


and  wants  of  the  several  vessels  and  their 
crews,  at  last  visited  the  shattered  remains 
of  the  Lawrence.  The  deck  was  slip- 
pery with  blood  and  brains,  and  strewed 
with  the  bodies  of  officers  and  men,  and 
the  ship  resounded  everywhere  with  the 
groans  of  the  wounded.  Those  of  the 
crew  who  were  spared  and  able  to  walk  or 
limp,  approached  the  gallant  captain  with 
tears  in  their  eyes,  and  with  outstretched 
arms  of  welcome ;  but  the  salutation  was 
a  silent  one  on  both  sides, — so  overcome 
with  emotion  were  the  hearts  of  these 
brave  men,  that  not  a  word  could  find 
utterance.  The  principal  loss  in  the 
whole  action  was  on  board  the  Lawrence, 
so  indomitable  was  Perry's  resolution  not 
to  be  conquered.  In  memory  of  this  he- 
roic service  to  his  country,  there  was 
erected  in  1860,  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  near 
the  scene  of  his  great  battle,  a  marble 
statue  by  Walcutt. 

Two  days  after  the  battle,  two  Indian 
chiefs  who  had  been  selected  for  their 
skill  as  marksmen,  and  stationed  in  the 
tops  of  the  Detroit  for  the  purpose  of  pick- 
ing off  the  American  officers,  were  found 
snugly  stowed  away  in  the  hold  of  that 
ship.  These  savages,  who  had  been  ac- 
customed to  vessels  of  no  greater  magni- 
tude than  what  they  could  sling  upon  their 
backs,  when  the  action  became  warm, 
were  so  panic-struck  at  the  terrors  of  the 
scene  and  at  the  strange  perils  surround- 
ing them,  that,  looking  at  each  other  in 
amazement,  they  vociferated  their  signifi- 
cant '  Quonth ! '  and  precipitately  de- 
scended to  the  hold.  In  their  British 
uniforms,  hanging  in  bags  upon  their  fam- 
ished bodies,  they  were  now  brought  be- 
fore Commodore  Perry,  fed,  and  discharged, 
— no  further  parole  being  necessary  to 
prevent  their  ever  engaging  again  in  a 
similar  contest. 

The  slain  of  the  crews  of  both  squadrons 
were  committed  to  the  lake  immediately 
after  the  action ;  and,  the  next  day,  the 
funeral  obsequies  of  the  American  and 
British  officers  who  had  fallen,  were  per- 
formed at  an  opening  on  the  margin  of 
the  bay,  in  an  appropriate  and  affecting 


170 


THE  FIRST  SQUADRON  COMBAT. 


manner.  The  crews  of  both  fleets  united 
in  the  ceremony.  The  autumnal  stillness 
of  the  weather — the  procession  of  boats — 
the  music — the  slow  and  regular  motion 
of  the  oars,  striking  in  exact  time  with  the 
notes  of  the  solemn  dirge — the  mournful 
waving  of  the  flags — the  sound  of  the 
minute-guns  from  all  the  ships — the  wild 
and  solitary  aspect  of  the  place  ; — all  these 
gave  to  this  funeral  ceremonial  a  most 
impressive  influence,  iu  striking  contrast 
with  the  terrible  conflict  of  the  preceding 
day.  Two  American  and  three  .British 
officers  were  interred  side  by  side  of  each 
other,  in  this  lonely  place  of  sepulture,  on 
the  margin  of  the  lake,  a  few  paces  from 
the  beach. 

In  his  official  dispatch,  Perry  speaks  in 
the  highest  terms  of  the  co-operation, 
bravery  and  judgment,  of  his  associate, 
Captain  Elliott.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
universal  agreement  with  the  assertion 
made  by  Mackenzie,  the  appreciating  biog- 
rapher of  this  heroic  commander,  that  the 
battle  of  Erie  was  won  not  merely  by  the 
genius  and  inspiration,  but  eminently  by 
the  exertions,  of  one  man, — a  young  man 
of  twenty-seven,  who  had  never  beheld  a 
naval  engagement.  He  had  dashed  boldly 
into  action  with  the  Lawrence,  trusting 
that  the  rear  of  his  line  would  soon  be 
able  to  close  up  to  his  support.  Sustained, 
however,  only  by  the  Caledonia,  the  Ariel, 
and  the  Scorpion,  he  resisted  for  two  hours 
or  more  the  whole  of  the  British  squadron. 
Overcome  at  last,  Perry  made  a  new  ar- 
rangement of  his  remaining  resources,  and 
snatched  from  the  enemy,  with  desperate 


obstinacy,  a  victory  which  that  enemy  had 
already  claimed  with  exulting  cheers  for 
his  own.  This  he  accomplished  by  an 
evolution  unsurpassed  for  genius  and  hard- 
ihood, bearing  down  with  dauntless  assur- 
ance upon  the  whole  of  the  opposing  fleet, 
and  dashing  with  his  fresh  and  uninjured 
vessel  through  the  enemy's  line,  to  their 
dismay  and  complete  discomfiture.  And 


this  victory  on  the  lake  was  so  much  the 
more  important  from  its  enabling  General 
Harrison  to  recover  from  the  British  in- 
vaders the  American  territory  which  they 
had  occupied,  and  to  pursue  them  into 
Canada,  where,  on  the  fifth  of  October, 
they  were  totally  routed  in  the  battle  of 
the  Thames.  Nearly  all  the  British  force 
was  either  captured  or  slain,  and  their 
famous  Indian  ally,  Tecumseh,  here  ended 
his  life. 


XXI. 

/ 

GENERAL  JACKSON'S  TEERIBLE  ROUT  AND  SLAUGHTER 
OF  THE  BRITISH  ARMY  AT  NEW  ORLEANS.— 1815. 


His  Consummate  Generalship  in  the  Order  and  Conduct  of  this  Campaign. — The  War  with  England 
Terminated  by  a  Sudden  and  Splendid  Victory  to  the  American  Arms. — Jackson  is  Hailed  as  One 
of  the  Greatest  of  Modern  Warriors,  and  as  the  Deliverer  and  Second  Savior  of  His  Country. — 
National  Military  Prestige  Gained  by  this  Decisive  Battle — British  Invasion  of  Louisiana. — Prepar- 
ations to  Resist  Them. — Jackson  Hastens  to  New  Orleans.— His  Presence  Inspires  Confidence. — 
Martial  Law  Proclaimed.— Progress  of  the  British  Forces. — They  Rendezvous  at  Ship  Island. — 
Pirates  and  Indians  for  Allies. — Capture  of  the  United  States  Flotilla. — Arrival  of  Veterans  from 
England — Desperate  Attempts  at  Storming. — Both  Armies  Face  Each  Other. — The  Day  of  Action, 
January  Eighth.— General  Pakenham  Leads  the  Charge.— His  Motto,  "  Booty  and  Beauty." — Fire 
and  Death  Open  Upon  Them. — They  are  Mown  Down  Like  Grass. — Pakenham  Falls  at  the  Onset. 
—Panic  and  Precipitate  Retreat.— America's  Motto,  "  Victory  or  Death." — The  Result  at  Home  and 
Abroad  — Startling  and  Impressive  Effect. 


14  The  redcoats  will  find  out  whom  they  hive  to  deal  with.    I  will  imuh  them,  10  help  me  Godi"—  GMEKAL  JACKSOK,  ox  issnmxo 

THE    DEFENSE    OF  NEW    OftLEAH  8. 


T  is  a  fact  fruitful  of  the  most  suggestive  reflections, 
that,  had  the  facilities  of  communication  by  steam 
and  electricity  been  enjoyed  iu  1815,  as  they  are  at 
the  present  time,  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  and 
the  blood  which  flowed  so  freely  on  that  memorable 
occasion,  would  have  been  spared ;  for,  only  two 
weeks  previous  to  the  sanguinary  conflict,  namely,  on  the  24th 
of  December,  1814,  the  treaty  of  peace  between  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain  was  signed  at  Ghent,  by  the  ap- 
pointed commissioners, — a  most  joyous  event  to  all,  but  the 
tidings  of  which  did  not,  unfortunately,  reach  the  contending 
armies  in  Louisiana,  until  several  weeks  after  the  battle  took 
place.  Nevertheless,  perhaps  no  other  battle  in  American 
annals,  up  to  that  period,  had  given  such  prestige  to  the  valor 
of  American  arms,  nor  can  any  estimate  be  made  of  the 


172 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 


immense  consequences  of  that  victory  to 
General  Jackson  and  his  country.  Mr. 
Bancroft,  the  historian,  says  that  the 
heroes  of  antiquity  would  have  contem- 
plated with  .awe  the  unmatched  hardihood 
of  Jackson's  character. 

The  circumstances  which  led  to  a  battle 
so  creditable  in  its  result  to  the  genius 
and  bravery  of  the  American  army  were 
as  follows  :    On  the  twenty-fifth  of  August, 
1814,  a  British  army  landed  at  Pensacola, 
and  took  forcible  possession  of  the  place, 
being  aided  by  the  Spaniards  in  all  their 
proceedings  ;  they  collected  all  the  Indians 
that  would   resort  to  their  standard;  and 
Colonel   Nichols,  the   chief  British  com- 
mander, even  sent  an  officer  to  the  notori- 
ous piratical    establishment   at  Barataria 
to  enlist  the  chief,  Lafitte,  and  his  follow- 
ers, in  their  cause,  the  most  liberal  and 
tempting    inducements    being    held   out. 
These  people,  however,  showed  a  decided 
preference  for  the  American  cause,  and, 
deceiving  the  English  by  delay,  conveyed 
intelligence  of  their  designs  to  the  gov- 
ernor of  New  Orleans,  and  frankly  offered 
their  services  to  defend  the  country.     Dis- 
appointed in  securing  their  aid,  the  expe- 
dition  proceeded   to   the   attack   of   Fort 
Bowyer,  on  Mobile  point,  commanded  by 
Major  Lawrence.      The  result,  however, 
was  a  loss  to  the  besiegers  of  more  than 
two  hundred  men ;  the  commodore's  ship 
was  so  disabled  that  they  set  fire  to  her, 
and  she  blew  up,  and  the  remaining  three 
vessels,  shattered  and  filled  with  wounded 
men,    returned  to  Pensacola.     While  the 
British  were  thus  sheltered  in  this  place, 
busily  occupied  in  bringing  over  the  Indi- 
ans to  join  them,  General  Jackson, — who, 
after  the  peace  with  the  Creeks  had -become 
active  commander  at  the  south, — formed 
an  expedition  of  about  four  thousand  men, 
to  dislodge   them.      He    summoned   the 
town,  was  refused  entrance  by  the  Spanish 
governor,  and  his  flag  of  truce  was  fired 
upon  ;  the  British  soldiers  being  also  in 
the    forts,    where    their    flag    had   been 
hoisted,  in  conjunction  with  the  Spanish, 
the    day    before    the     American     forces 
appeared.     Preparations  were  immediately 


made  to  carry  the  place;  one  battery 
having  been  taken  by  storm,  with  slight 
loss  on  either  side,  the  governor  surren- 
deied,  the  English  having  previously 
retired  on  board  their  ships.  The  forts 
below,  which  commanded  the  passage, 
were  blown  up,  and  this  enabled  the 
English  fleet  to  put  to  sea. 

Returning  to  Mobile,  General  Jackson 
learned  that  preparations  were  making  by 
the  British  for  the  invasion  of  Louisiana, 
and  with  especial  reference  to  an  attack 
on  New  Orleans. 

He  according]  •)  hastened  to  New  Orleans, 
which  he  found  hi  great  alarm  and  confu- 
sion. He  at  onjc  put  in  operation  the 
most  rigorous  measures  of  defense.  The 
militia  of  Louisiana  and  Mississippi  were 
ordered  out  en  masse,  and  large  detach- 
ments from  Tennessee  and  Kentucky. 
From  a  previous  correspondence  with  Gov- 
ernor Claiborne,  General  Jackson  had  been 
informed  that  the  city  corps  had,  for  the 
most  part,  refused  obedience  to  the  orders 
which  had  been  given  them  to  turn  out ; 
that  they  had  been  encouraged  in  their  dis- 
obedience by  the  state  legislature,  then  in 
session  in  the  city ;  and  that,  although 
there  were  many  faithful  citizens  in  the 
place,  there  were  many  others  who  were 
more  devoted  to  the  interests  of  Spain,  and 
others  still  whose  hostility  to  the  English 
was  less  observable  than  their  dislike  to 
American  government. 

Under  these  circumstances,  and  finding 
that  the  statements  relative  to  the  disaf- 
fection of  the  populace  were  fully  confirmed, 
Jackson,  on  consultation  with  the  gover- 
nor, in  conjunction  with  Judge  Hall,  and 
many  influential  persons  of  the  city,  on 
the  sixteenth  of  December,  issued  an 
order,  declaring  the  city  and  environs  of 
New  Orleans  to  be  under  strict  martial 
law. 

Nor  were  the  military  modes  and  plans 
adopted  by  General  Jackson,  outside  of 
the  city  proper,  wanting  in  efficiency. 
Fort  St.  Philip,  which  guarded  the  passage 
of  the  river  at  the  detour  la  Plaquemine. 
was  strengthened  and  placed  under  the 
command  of  Major  Overton,  an  able  and 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 


173 


skillful  engineer.  A  site  was  also  selected 
for  works  of  defense,  four  miles  below  the 
city,  where  its  destinies  were  ultimately  to 
be  determined.  The  right  rested  on  the 
river,  and  the  left  was  flanked  by  an 
impenetrable  cypress  swamp,  which  ex- 
tended eastward  to  Lake  Pontchartrain, 
and  westward  to  within  a  mile  of  the  river. 
Between  the  swamp  and  the  river  was  a 
large  ditch  or  artificial  bayou  which  had 
been  made  for  agricultural  objects,  but 
which  now  served  an  important  military 
purpose.  On  the  northern  bank  of  this 
ditch,  the  entrenchments  were  thrown  up, 
and  large  quantities  of  cotton-bales  so 
arranged,  that  the  troops  could  be 
effectually  protected  from  the  fire  of  the 
British.  Each  flank  was  secured  by  an 
advance  bastion,  and  the  latter  protected 
by  batteries  in  the  rear.  These  works 
were  well  mounted  with  artillery.  Oppo- 
site this  position,  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
river,  on  a  rising  ground,  General  Morgan, 
with  the  city  and  drafted  militia,  was  sta- 
tioned ;  and  Commodore  Patterson,  with 
the  crews  of  the  Caroline  and  Louisiana, 
and  the  guns  of  the  latter,  formed  another, 
near  General  Morgan's ;  both  of  which 
entirely  enfiladed  the  approach  of  an 
enemy  against  the  principal  works.  A 
detachment  was  stationed  above  the  town, 
to  guard  the  pass  of  the  bayou  St.  John, 
if  an  attempt  should  be  made  from  that 
quarter. 

On  the  twenty-second  of  December,  the 
enemy  proceeded  from  their  rendezvous  on 
Ship  island,  with  all  their  boats  and  small 
craft  capable  of  navigating  the  lake  to  the 
bayou  Bienvenue,  and  having  surprised 
and  captured  the  videttes  at  the  mouth  of 
the  bayou,  the  first  division  accomplished 
their  landing  unobserved.  Major-General 
Villery,  of  the  New  Orleans  militia,  living 
on  the  baj'ou,  to  whom  the  important 
service  of  making  the  first  attack,  and 
giving  notice  of  the  enemy's  approach  was 
intrusted,  found  them  on  his  own  planta- 
tion, nine  miles  below  the  city,  without 
any  previous  knowledge  of  their  approach. 

The  morning  of  New  Year's  day,  1815, 
was  very  dark  and  foggy  amid  the  swamps 


and  bogs  of  New  Orleans,  and  the  day  was 
somewhat  advanced  before  the  Americans 
discerned  how  near  the  enemy  had  ap- 
proached to  them,  or  the  novel  use  which 
had  been  made  of  their  molasses  and  sugar 
hogsheads.  In  the  course  of  the  day, 
under  cover  of  these  batteries,  three 
unsuccessful  attempts  were  made  to  storm 
the  American  works.  By  four  in  the 
afternoon,  all  the  enemy's  batteries  were 
silenced,  and  the  next  night  found  them 
in  their  former  position. 

On  the  fourth  of  January,  General 
Adair  arrived,  with  four  thousand  Ken- 
tucky militia,  principally  without  arms. 
The  muskets  and  munitions  of  war,  des- 
tined for  the  supply  of  this  corps,  were 
provided  at  Pittsburg,  but  did  not  leave 
that  place  until  the  twenty-fifth  of  Decem- 
ber, and  arrived  at  New  Orleans  not  until 
several  days  after  the  decisive  battle  of 
January  eighth.  On  the  sixth,  the  enemy 
received  their  last  re-enforcement  of  three 
thousand  men  from  England,  under  Major- 
General  Lambert.  But  before  the  final 
assault  on  the  American  lines,  the  British 
general  deemed  it  necessary  to  dislodge 
General  Morgan  and  Commodore  Patter- 
son, from  their  positions  on  the  right 
bank.  These  posts  so  effectually  enfiladed 
the  approach  to  General  Jackson's  works, 
that  the  army  advancing  to  the  assault, 
must  be  exposed  to  the  most  imminent 
hazard.  To  accomplish  this  object,  boats 
were  to  be  transported  across  the  island 
from  lake  Borgne  to  the  Mississippi ;  for 
this  purpose  the  British  had  been  labori- 
ously employed  in  deepening  and  widening 
the  canal  or  bayou  Bienvenue,  on  which 
they  first  disembarked.  On  the  seventh, 
thej-  succeeded  in  opening  the  embank- 
ment on  the  river,  and  completing  a  com- 
munication from  the  lake  to  the  Missis- 
sippi. In  pushing  the  boats  through,  it 
was  found,  at  some  places,  that  the  canal 
was  not  of  sufficient  width,  and  at  others 
the  banks  fell  in  and  choked  the  passage, 
thus  occasioning  great  delay ;  at  length, 
however,  they  succeeded  in  hauling  through 
a  sufficient  number  to  transport  five  hun- 
dred troops  to  the  right  bank. 


174 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  OKLEANS. 


On  the  left  bank,  where  General  Jack- 
son in  person  commanded,  everything  was 
in  readiness  to  meet  the  assault  when  it 
should  be  made.  The  redoubt  on  the 
levee  was  defended  by  a  company  under 
Lieutenant  Boss.  The  regular  troops 
occupied  that  part  of  the  entrenchment 
next  to  the  river.  General  Carroll's  divi- 
sion was  in  the  center,  supported  by  Gen- 
eral Adair's  Kentucky  troops ;  while  the 
extreme  left,  extending  for  a  considerable 
distance  into  the  swamp,  was  protected  by 
the  brigade  of  General  Coffee.  How  soon 
the  onset  should  take  place,  was  uncertain ; 
at  what  moment  rested  with  the  enemy, — 
with  the  Americans,  to  be  in  readiness  for 


pace  with  the  zeal  and  preparation  of  the 
enemy.  He  seldom  slept ;  he  was  always 
at  his  post,  performing  the  duties  of  both 
general  and  soldier.  His  sentinels  were 
doubled,  and  extended  as  far  as  possible  in 
the  direction  of  the  British  camp ;  while  a 
considerable  portion  of  the  troops  were 
constantly  at  the  line,  with  arms  in  their 
hands,  ready  to  act,  when  the  first  alarm 
should  be  given.  For  eight  days  did  the 
two  armies  remain  thus  upon  the  same 
field,  in  battle  array  and  in  view  of  each 
other,  without  anything  decisive  on  either 
side  being  effected.  Twice,  since  their 
landing,  had  the  British  columns  essayed 
to  effect  by  storm  the  execution  of  their 


resistance.  There  were  many  circum- 
stances, however,  favoring  the  belief  that 
the  hour  of  contest  was  fast  approaching ; 
the  unusual  bustle, —  the  efforts  of  the 
enemy  to  carry  their  boats  into  the  river, 
— the  fascines  and  scaling-ladders  that 
were  preparing;  all  these  circumstances 
indicated  the  hour  of  attack  to  be  near  at 
hand.  General  Jackson  was  not 'only 
unmoved  by  these  appearances,  but,  accord- 
ing to  General  Eaton's  statements,  he 
anxiously  desired  a  contest,  which,  he 
believed,  would  give  a  triumph  to  his 
arms,  and  terminate  the  hardships  of  his 
soldiers.  Unremitting  in  exertion,  and 
constantly  vigilant,  his  precaution  kept 


plans,  and  twice   had  failed  and   retired 
from  the  contest. 

The  eighth  0^  January,  1815,  at  length 
arrived.  The  day  dawned ;  and  the  sig- 
nals, intended  to  produce  concert  -in  the 
enemy's  movements,  were  descried.  On 
the  left,  near  the  swamp,  a  sky-rocket  was 
perceived  rising  in  the  air ;  and  presently 
another  ascended  from  the  right,  next  the 
river.  They  were  intended  to  announce 
that  all  was  prepared  and  ready,  to  proceed 
and  carry  by  storm  a  defense  which  again 
and  again  had  foiled  their  utmost  efforts. 
Instantly  the  charge  was  made,  and  with 
such  rapidity,  that  the  American  soldiers 
at  the  outposts  with  difficulty  fled  in. 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 


175 


The  British  batteries,  which  had  been 
demolished  0:1  the  first  of  the  month,  had 
been  re-established  during  the  preceding 
night,  and  heavy  pieces  of  cannon  mounted, 
to  aid  in  their  intended  operations.  These 
now  opened,  and  showers  of  bombs  and 
balls  were  poured  upon  our  line,  while  the 
air  was  lighted  with  their  congreve  rock- 
ets. The  two  divisions,  commanded  by 
Sir  Edward  Pakenham  in  person,  and 
supported  by  Generals  Keane  and  Gibbs, 
pressed  forward;  the  right  against  the 
center  of  General  Carroll's  command, — 
the  left  against  our  redoubt  on  the  levee. 
A  thick  fog,  that  obscured  the  morning, 
enabled  them  to  approach  within  a  short 
distance  of  our  entrenchment,  before  they 
were  discovered.  They  were  now  perceived 
advancing,  with  firm,  quick,  and  steady 
pace,  in  column,  with  a  front  of  sixty  or 
seventy  deep.  The  American  troops,  who 
had  for  some  time  been  in  readiness,  and 
waiting  their  appearance,  gave  three  deaf- 
ening cheers,  and  instantly  the  whole  line 
was  lighted  with  the  blaze  of  their  fire. 
A  burst  of  artillery  and  small-arms,  pour- 
ing with  destructive  aim  upon  them, 
mowed  down  their  front,  and  arrested  their 
advance.  It  was  a  perfect  sheet  of  fire 
and  death ! 

The  havoc  and  horror  before  them — the 
terrible  carnage  which  swept  down  their 
advancing  ranks,  —  became  at  last  too 
great  to  be  withstood,  and  already  were 
the  British  troops  seen  wavering  in  their 
determination,  and  receding  from  the  con- 
flict. At  this  moment,  Sir  Edward  Paken- 
ham, the  distinguished  commander-in-chief 
of  the  British  forces,  hastening  to  the 
front,  endeavored  to  encourage  and  inspire 
them  with  renewed  zeal.  His  example, 
however,  was  of  short  continuance,  for, 
when  near  the  crest  of  the  glacis,  he 
received  a  ball  in  the  knee ;  still  continu- 
ing to  lead  on  his  men,  another  shot  soon 
pierced  his  body,  and  he  was  carried  in 
mortal  agony  from  the  field,  in  the  arms  of 
his  aid-de-camp.  Nearly  at  the  same  time, 
Major-General  Gibbs,  the  second  British 
officer  in  command,  received  a  mortal 
wound  when  within  a  few  yards  of  the 


lines,  and  was  removed.  The  third  in 
command  also,  Major-General  Keane, 
while  at  the  head  of  his  troops  near  the 
glacis,  was  terribly  wounded,  and  at  once 
borne  away. 

At  this  moment,  General  Lambert, — 
who  had  arrived  from  England  but  two 
days  before,  and  found  himself  now  the 
only  surviving  general, — was  advancing  at 
a  small  distance  in  the  rear,  with  the 
reserve,  and  met  the  columns  precipitately 
retreating,  broken  and  confused.  His 
efforts  to  stop  them  were  unavailing, — 
onward  they  continued  in  their  headlong 
retreat,  until  they  reached  a  ditch,  at  the 
distance  of  four  hundred  yards,  where  a 
momentary  safety  being  found,  the  pant- 
ing and  fear-stricken  fugitives  were  ral- 
lied, and  halted. 

The  field  before  them,  over  which  they 
had  so  confidently  advanced,  was  strewed 
with  the  dead  and  dying.  Imminent 
danger  faced  them ;  yet,  urged  and  en- 
couraged by  their  officers,  who  feared 
their  own  disgrace  involved  in  the  failure, 
they  again  moved  to  the  charge.  They 
were  already  near  enough  to  deploy,  and 
were  endeavoring  to  do  so ;  but  the  same 
constant  and  unremitted  resistance  that 
caused  their  first  retreat,  continued  yet 
unabated.  Our  batteries  had  never  ceased 
their  fire;  their  constant  discharges  of 
grape  and  canister,  and  the  fatal  aim  of 
our  musketry,  mowed  down  the  front  of 
the  columns  as  fast  as  they  could  be 
formed.  Satisfied  nothing  could  be  done, 
and  that  certain  destruction  awaited  all 
further  attempts,  they  forsook  the  contest 
and  the  field  in  disorder,  leaving  it  almost 
entirely  covered  with  the  dead  and 
wounded.  It  was  in  vain  their  officers 
endeavored  to  animate  them  to  further 
resistance,  and  equally  vain  to  attempt 
coercion.  The  panic  produced  by  the 
dreadful  repulse  they  had  experienced,— 
the  sight  of  the  field  on  which  they  had 
acted,  covered  with  the  ghastly  bodies  of 
their  countrymen, —  and  the  bitter  fact 
that,  with  their  most  zealous  exertions, 
they  had  been  unable  to  obtain  the 
slightest  advantage;  all  these  circum- 


176 


BATTLE  OF  jN'EW  ORLEANS. 


stances  were  well  calculated  to  make  even 
the  most  submissive    soldier  oppose   the 


fry?  if 


authority  that  would  have  controlled  him.   ! 
The  decided  advantage  of  the  Americans   ; 


pave  to  the  conduct  of  the  enemy  more  of 
the  character  of  madness  than  of  valor. 
As  has  already  been  stated,  the 
fall  of  General  Pakenham  and 
the  two  next  in  command  de- 
volved the  leadership  upon 
Lambert,  the  only  general  offi- 
cer left  upon  the  field,  and  to 
whom  had  been  consigned  the 
charge  of  the  reserve ;  and 
though,  meeting  the  discom- 
fited troops  in  their  flight,  he 
endeavored  to  restore  the  for- 
tune of  the  day,  the  effort  was 
fruitless  to  the  last  degree. 

On  the  ninth,  General  Lam- 
bert determined  to  relinquish 
altogether  so  desperate  and 
hopeless  an  enterprise,  and 

K  immediately  commenced  the 
necessary  preparations,  though 
with  the  utmost  secrecy.  It 

c  was  not  unti!  the  night  of  the 

|  eighteenth,  however,  that  the 
British  camp  was  entirely 
evacuated. 

The  loss   of   the   British   in 

v  this  fatal  expedition  was  im- 
mense, the  narrow  field  of  strife 
between  the  opposing  combat 

S  ants  being  strewed  with  dead. 

c  So  dreadful  a  carnage,  consid- 

|  ering  the  length  of  time  and 
the  numbers  engaged,  has  sel- 
dom been  recorded.  Two  thou- 
sand, at  the  lowest  estimate, 
pressed  the  earth,  besides  such 
of  the  wounded  as  were  not 
able  to  escape.  The  loss  of  the 
Americans  did  not  exceed  seven 
killed,  and  six  wounded.  Mili- 
tary annals  do  not  furnish  a 
more  extraordinary  instance  of 
disparity  in  the  slain,  between 
the  victors  and  vanquished. 
The  entire  British  force  en- 
gaged in  this  attempted  reduc- 
tion of  New  Orleans,  amounted 
to  twelve  thousand  men ;  the 
Americans  numbered  some  six  thousand, 
chiefly  militia. 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ORLEANS. 


177 


Pakenham,  the  distinguished  leader  of 
the  British  forces,  was  a  brother-in-law  of 
the  great  Duke  of  Wellington,  had  long 
been  in  high  repute  for  military  skill  and 
personal  bravery,  and  on-  this  occasion 
numbered  among  his  troops  those  who  had 
won  laurels  of  victory  on  the  battle-fields 
of  Europe.  But,  that  he  felt  convinced  of 
the  magnitude  and  hazard  of  his  present 
undertaking,  as  distinguished  from  all 
previous  ones,  is  evident.  When  an  officer 
leads  his  troops  on  a  forlorn  attempt,  he 
not  unfrequently  places  before  them  allure- 
ments stronger  than  either  authority  or 
duty.  According  to  General  Eaton's  his- 
torical statements,  a  positive  charge  is 
made  against  General  Pakenham,  in  this 
respect,  —  inducements  having  been  held 
out  by  him,  than  which  nothing  more 
inviting  could  be  offered  to  an  infuriated 
soldiery.  By  this  gallant  but  misguided 
general,  there  was  promised  to  his  soldiers 
— to  excite  their  cupidity — the  wealth  of 
the  city,  as  a  recompense  for  their  gal- 
lantry and  desperation;  while,  with  brutal 
licentiousness,  they  were  to  revel  in  lawless 
indulgence,  and  triumph,  uncontrolled, 
over  female  innocence.  The  history  of 
Europe,  since  civilized  warfare  began,  may 
be  challenged  to  afford  an  instance  of  such 
gross  and  wanton  outrage.  The  facts  and 
circumstances  which  were  developed  at  the 
time,  left  no  doubt  on  the  minds  of  the 
American  officers,  but  that  '  Booty  and 
Beauty'  was  the  British  watchword  of  the 
day.  The  information  was  obtained  from 
prisoners,  and  confirmed  by  the  books  of 
two  of  their  orderly  sergeants  taken  in 
battle. 

Jackson  was  well  aware,  from  the  first, 
of  the  bold  and  reckless  character  of  the 
enemy  he  had  to  deal  with.  With  patri- 
otic indignation  he  declared:  "The  red- 
coats will  find  out  whom  they  have  to  deal 
with.  1  will  smash  them,  so  help  me 
God  ! "  And  the  spirit  with  which  he  led 

12 


his  men  forward  may  be  easily  judged  of 
from  his  emphatic  exclamation — "  Kemem- 
ber,  our  watchword  is  '  Victory  or  Death  !' 
We  will  enjoy  our  liberty,  or  perish  in  the 
last  ditch  !  "  Never  before  did  a  general 
bring  upon  his  troops  such  a  spell  of 
enthusiastic  devotion  to  himself,  and  to 
the  demands  of  the  hour.  So,  too,  in  the 
flush  of  triumph,  he  did  not  forget  mercy 
and  magnanimity.  "  General  Jackson," 
says  Blackwood's  Magazine,  of  London, 
"  behaved  with  humanity  and  generosity 
to  all  his  prisoners,  which  did  him  as  great 
honor  as  his  conduct  in  the  defense.  We 
do  not  hesitate  to  call  him  a  great  man." 
Such  was  the  encomium  bestowed  upon 
him  by  the  pen  of  an  enemy,^-one  of 
the  most  influential  organs  of  British 
opinion. 

At  this  time,  the  person  of  General 
Jackson  is  described  as  being  neither 
robust  nor  elegant.  He  was  six  feet  and 
one  inch  high,  remarkably  straight  and 
spare,  and  weighing  about  one  hundred 
and  forty-five  pounds.  His  physique 
appeared  to  disqualify  him  for  hardship; 
yet,  accustomed  to  it  from  early  life,  few 
were  capable  of  enduring  fatigue  to  the 
same  extent,  or  with  less  injury.  His 
dark  blue  eyes,  with  brows  arched  and 
slightly  projecting,  possessed  a  marked 
expression;  but  when  from  any  cause 
excited,  they  sparkled  with  peculiar  luster 
and  penetration.  In  his  manners  he  was 
pleasing  —  in  his  address  commanding. 
His  countenance,  marked  with  firmness 
and  decision,  yet  beamed  with  a  strength 
and  intelligence  that  struck  at  first  sight. 
In  his  deportment,  he  was  easy,  affable, 
familiar,  and  accessible  to  all. 

The  annunciation  of  the  triumphant 
defense  of  New  Orleans  was  hailed,  in 
every  section  of  the  country,  with  accla- 
mations of  delight,  and  won  for  Jackson 
the  title  of  "  the  conqueror  of  the  con- 
querors of  Napoleon." 


XXII. 

THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  SEPTEMBER  GALE.— 1815. 


Its  Violence  and  Destructiveness  Without  a  Parallel  Since  the  Settlement  of  the  Country.— Terroi 
Excited  by  Its  Sudden  and  Tumultuous  Force. — Unprecedented  Phenomena  of  Tempest,  Deluge  and 
Flood. — One  Hour  of  Indescribable  Havoc  on  the  Land  and  Sea. — Premonitory  Indications. — Heavy 
North-east  Rains. — Sudden  and  Violent  Changes  of  Wind. — Its  Rapidity  and  Force  Indescribable. — 
Demolition  of  Hundreds  of  Buildings. — Orchards  and  Forests  Instantly  Uprooted. — Raging  and 
Foaming  of  the  Sea. — Its  Spray  Drives  Like  a  Snow-storm  over  the  Land. — Tremendous  Rise  in  the 
Tides. — Irresistible  Impetuosity  of  the  Flood. — Several  Feet  of  Water  in  the  Streets. — Innumerable 
Fragments  Fill  the  Air. — Flight  for  Safety  to  the  Fields. — The  Whole  Coast  Swarms  with  Wrecks. 
— Perils,  Escapes,  Fatalities. — Peculiar  Meteorological  Facts. — Bright  Skies  in  the  Midst  of  the  Tem- 
pest.— Suffocating  Current  of  Hot  Air. — Sea  Fowls  in  the  Depths  of  the  Interior. — Effect  Upon 
Lands,  Crops,  and  Wells. — All  New  England  Desolated. — Comparison  with  Other  Gales. 


— "  Still  ovcrheid 

The  mingling  tempest  wears  its  Bloom,  and  still 
The  deluge  deepens;  till  the  fields  around 
Lie  iu nk  and  United  in  the  sordid  wave. 

All  that  the  winds  had  spared. 
In  one  wild  moment  ruined." 


jUDGINC-  from  all  the  information,  historical 
and  traditional,  relating  to  the  great  American 
gales  during  the  last  hundred  years,  it  would 
appear  that  the  one  which  occurred  in  New 
England,  on  the  23d  of  September,  1815,  was 
and  is  still  without  a  parallel,  in  its  extraordi- 
nary characteristics  of  violence  and  destruc- 
tiveness.  In  the  history  of  the  country, 
dating  back  to  its  earliest  annals,  there  is  no 
account  of  any  gale  or  hurricane  equaling 
this,  in  its  various  phenomena  of  suddenness, 
severity  and  power.  As  distinguishing  it, 
therefore,  above  all  others  of  its  class,  this 
has  ever  since  been  called  the  Great  Septem- 
ber Gale. 

The  observations  of  the  character,  course 
and  effects  of  this  wonderful  storm,  made  by 
Professor  Farrar  and  others,  for  the  latitude 
of  Boston,  show  that  it  was  there  preceded  by 
rain,  which  continued  to  fall  for  about  twenty-four  hours  with  a  moderate  wind 
from  the  north-east.  Early  in  the  morning  of  the  twenty-third,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  east,  and  began  to  blow  in  gusts  accompanied  with  showers.  It  continued 


DESTRUCTION   BY  THE  GREAT  GALE  AND  FLOOD. 


THE  EVEK-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


179 


to  change  toward  the  south  and  to  increase 
in  violence  while  the  rain  abated.  Be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock  in  the  fore- 
noon, it  began  to  excite  alarm.  Chimnej's 
and  trees  were  blown  over  both  to  the 
west  and  north  ;  but  shingles  and  slates, 
that  were  torn  from  the  roofs  of  buildings, 
were  carried  to  the  greatest  distance  in  the 
direction  of  about  three  points  west  of 
north. 

Between  half-past  ten  and  half-past 
eleven  o'clock,  the  greatest  destruction 
took  place.  The  rain  ceased  about  the 
time  the  wind  shifted  from  south-east  to 
south ;  a  clear  sky  was  visible  in  many 
places  during  the  utmost  violence  of  the 
tempest,  and  clouds  were  seen  flying  with 
great  rapidity  in  the  direction  of  the  wind. 
The  air  had  an  unusual  appearance.  It 
was  considerably  darkened  by  the  exces- 
sive agitation,  and  filled  with  the  leaves 
of  trees  and  other  light  substances,  which 
were  raised  to  a  great  height  and  whirled 
about  in  eddies,  instead  of  being  driven 
directly  forward  as  in  a  common  storm. 
The  rivers  raged  and  foamed  like  the  sea  in 
a  storm,  and  the  spray  was  raised  to  the 
height  of  sixty  or  one  hundred  feet  in  the 
form  of  thin  white  clouds,  which  were 
drifted  along  in  a  kind  of  wave  form,  like 
snow  in  a  violent  snow-storm.  Travelers 
were  frequently  driven  back  by  the  force 
of  the  wind,  and  were  obliged  to  screen 
themselves  behind  fences  and  trees  or  to 
advance  obliquely.  It  was  impossible  for 
even  the  stoutest  man  to  stand  firm  in  a 
place  exposed  to  the  full  force  of  the  wind. 
The  pressure  of  the  wind  was  like  that 
of  a  rapid  current  of  water;  pedestrians 
could  with  great  difficulty  hear  each  other 
speak  at  the  distance  of  two  or  three 
yards;  and  they  moved  about  almost  as 
awkwardly  as  if  attempting  to  wade  in  a 
strong  tide. 

In  Boston  harbor,  the  sea  had  risen 
unusually  high,  two  hours  before  the  calen- 
dar time  of  high  water.  But  the  direction 
of  the  wind  at  this  time  tended  to  coun- 
teract the  tide,  and  thus  secured  the  port 
from  that  awful  calamity  which  threatened 
it.  Great  losses,  however,  were  sustained 


from  the  wind  alone ;  many  buildings 
were  blown  down,  great  numbers  were 
unroofed  or  otherwise  injured,  and  few 
entirely  escaped.  The  most  calamitous 
destruction  befell  the  trees, — orchards  and 
forests  exhibiting  a  scene  of  desolation, 
the  like  of  which  had  never  before  been 
witnessed  in  America.  The  roads  in  many 
places  were  rendered  impassable,  not  only 
through  woods,  but  in  the  more  cultivated 
towns,  where  they  happened  to  be  lined 
with  trees ;  and  the  streets  in  Boston  and 
neighboring  towns  were  strewed  with  the 
ruins  of  innumerable  gardens  and  fruit- 
yards.  A  considerable  proportion  of  the 
large  and  beautiful  trees  in  Boston  mall, 
and  in  other  public  walks,  some  of  which 
trees  measured  from  eight  to  twelve  feet 
in  circumference,  were  torn  up  by  the 
roots  and  prostrated.  Apple  trees,  in 
especial,  being  separated  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  each  other,  were  overturned 
in  great  numbers  ;  no  less  than  five  thoitr 
sand  were  thus  destroyed  in  the  town  of 
Dorchester  alone.  In  this  same  town, 
also,  seventeen  houses  were  unroofed,  sixty 
chimneys  blown  over,  and  about  forty 
barns  demolished. 

Ehode  Island  felt  the  full  force  of  this 
remarkable  gale,  Providence  suffering  to 
the  amount  of  millions  of  dollars,  accom- 
panied with  a  fearful  loss  of  life,  as  in 
other  places.  This  was  owing  to  the  wind 
blowing  directly  up  the  river  on  which  the 
place  is  built,  unbroken  by  the  cape  or 
Long  Island,  and  in  sweeping  over  such 
an  extent  of  water  it  accumulated  a  dread- 
ful and  most  destructive  tide,  so  that 
vessels  were  actually  driven  over  the 
wharves  and  through  the  streets.  Early 
in  the  morning,  the  wind  was  north-east, 
but,  at  about  eight,  it  shifted  to  south-east, 
and  soon  began  to  blow  violently,  continu- 
ing to  increase  until  ten,  when  it  became 
a  hurricane.  All  was  now  confusion  and 
dismay  in  the  exposed  region.  The  tide, 
impelled  by  the  tempest,  overflowed  the 
wharves  ;  vessels,  broken  from  their  moor- 
ings in  the  stream,  and  their  fastenings  at 
the  wharves,  were  seen  driving  with  dread- 
ful impetuosity  towards  the  bridge,  which 


180 


THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


they  swept  away,  without  a  moment's 
check  to  their  progress,  and  passed  oil  to 
the  head  of  the  basin,  where  they  drove 
high  up  the  bank.  Every  exertion  to 
protect  property,  was  rendered  futile  by 
the  violence  of  the  wind,  the  rapid  rise  of 
the  water,  and  the  falling  of  trees  ;  indeed, 
these,  with  the  crashing  of  chimneys, 
tumbling  upon  the  houses  and  descending 
into  the  streets,  together  with  tiles  and 
railings  from  the  tops  of  buildings,  and 
many  other  species  of  dangerous  missile 
flying  through  the  air,  rendered  it  perilous 
to  appear  in  the  streets.  All  considera- 
tion of  property,  however,  was  soon  for- 
gotten in  the  more  important  one  of  self- 
preservation.  The  tempest  still  raged 


elements,  were  seen  removing  the  panic- 
stricken  inmates ;  and  on  the  east  side,  an 
awful  torrent  rolled  through  the  main 
street,  in  depth  nearly  to  a  man's  waistr 
and  by  which  boats,  masts,  bales  of  cotton, 
and  immense  quantities  of  property  of 
every  description,  were  driven  along  with 
resistless  force.  It  was  an  awful  and  ter- 
rific scene.  Every  store  below,  on  the 
east  side,  was  either  carried  away  or  com- 
pletely shattered  ;  and  every  building  on 
the  opposite  side  and  on  the  wharves,  were 
swept  from  their  foundations — so  that  all 
the  space,  where,  an  hour  or  two  before, 
were  so  many  valuable  wharves  and  stores 
crowded  with  shipping  and  merchandise, 
was  now  one  wide  waste  of  tumultuous 


THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  OALE,  SEPTEMBER  23,  1815. 


with  increasing  violence ;  the  flood  was 
overwhelming  the  lower  parts  of  the  town  ; 
stores  and  dwelling-houses  were  tottering 
on  their  foundations,  and  then,  plunging 
into  the  deluge,  blended  their  shattered 
remains  with  the  wrecks  of  vessels, — the 
whole  passing,  with  irresistible  impetuos- 
ity, in  full  view,  on  the  current  to  the  head 
of  the  cove,  to  join  the  already  accumu- 
lated mass  of  similar  wrecks. 

By  this  time,  the  water  on  the  west  side 
of  the  river  had  risen  nearly  to  the  tops  of 
the  lower  windows  of  the  houses,  and  boats 
and 'scows,  struggling  with  the  maddened 


water.  Only  two  small  vessels,  of  all  that 
were  in  the  harbor,  succeeded  in  riding 
out  the  gale,  all  the  rest  having  drifted 
ashore,  or  been  carried  high  up  on  the 
wharves.  It  was  such  a  scene  of  wide- 
spread ruin  and  desolation,  as  beggars  all 
description — vessels  of  all  kinds  and  in 
every  position,  blended  promiscuously, 
with  carriages,  lumber,  -wrecks  of  build- 
ings of  every  variety,  furniture,  and  tens 
of  thousands  of  fragments  from  far  and 
near,  all  told  the  story  of  universal  havoc 
and  destruction.  Women  and  children  were 
saved  in  boats  from  chambers indows. 


THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


181 


One  distressing  and  peculiar  scene, 
which  took  place  among  the  shipping,  will 
serve  as  a  description  of  a  thousand  other 
cases  which  occurred  during  the  storm.  A 
brig,  loaded  and  ready  for  sea,  with  live- 
stock, drove  against  the  end  of  a  wharf, 
and  her  head  rested  on  it;  here  she  hung, 
appearing  every  moment  as  if  she  would 
upset,  and  plunge  her  crew  into  the  raging 
flood.  The  men  were  seen  clinging  to  her, 
awaiting  their  fate,  as  no  soul  could  ven- 
ture to  their  succor, — the  whole  distance 
between  the  vessel  and  the  houses  being 
filled  with  roofs  and  parts  of  stores  tum- 
bling with  the  violence  of  the  tempest. 
Expecting  every  moment  to  be  precipitated 
into  the  torrent,  they  determined  at  last 
upon  the  final  but  perilous  attempt  to  quit 
the  vessel  and  gain  the  houses.  Strug- 
gling with  the  violence  of  the  gale,  and 
with  the  rolling  and  bounding  materials, 
in  endeavoring  to  get  a  foothold,  they  at 
last  reached  the  rear  of  the  houses,  where 
some  were  taken  into  the  second  story, 
and  others,  unable  to  be  reached,  succeeded 
in  braving  the  waves  until  they  swam  to  a 
place  of  safety. 

But  it  would  be  absolutely  impossible  to 
giv.i  an  extended  detail  of  the  disastrous 
scenes  pertaining  to  each  separate  locality, 
although  some  of  the  incidents  and  items 
of  the  gale's  destructive  effects  deserve  to 
be  cited  for  their  very  marvelousness. 
Mention  has  already  been  made  of  the 
devastation  in  Dorchester,  near  Boston, — 
unparalleled  since  its  settlement, — result- 
ing in  seventeen  houses  being  unroofed, 
sixty  chimneys  prostrated,  forty  barns 
demolished,  and  more  than  five  thousand 
trees  destroyed.  The  number  of  buildings, 
large  and  small,  destroyed  in  Providence, 
ivas  estimated  at  five  hundred,  and  about 
fifty  vessels  wrecked.  In  many  instances, 
majestic  oaks,  which  had  braved  the  tem- 
pests an  hundred  years  or  more,  were 
thrown  down,  or  twisted  into  shreds  ;  and 
in  Danvers,  Mass.,  the  venerable  pear  tree, 
imported  and  transplanted  by  Governor 
Endicott,  was  made  terrible  havoc  with. 
In  Chelsea,  not  far  from  Danvers,  the 
great  Elm  tree,  seventeen  feet  in  girth, 


and  which  had  a  portico  built  upon  its 
limbs,  capable  of  holding  thirty  persons, 
was  among  the  wrecked.  In  the  little 
town  of  Acton,  about  twenty  miles  from 
Boston,  the  damage  amounted  to  forty 
thousand  dollars.  At  Stonington,  Conn., 
the  tide  rose  seventeen  feet  hit/her  than 
usual,  all  the  vessels  going  ashore  or  sink- 
ing, and  all  the  wharves  and  many  build- 
ings being  destroyed.  The  fate  of  one 
citizen  of  this  town  was  almost  as  disas- 
trous as  that  of  Job  of  yore  :  His  house, 
ropewalk,  blacksmith's  shop,  and  other 
buildings,  with  all  their  contents,  were 
swept  away,  and,  melancholy  to  relate,  his 
wife,  daughter,  wife's  mother,  and  a 
young  lady  visitor,  all  perished  in  the 
billows.  All  along  the  New  England 
coast,  and  as  far  as  New  York,  the  damage 
done  to  the  shipping  was  immense,  hun- 
dreds of  vessels  with  their  cargoes  being 
wrecked  ;  and  almost  every  seaport  as  well 
as  inland  town  suffering  to  some  degree, 
— in  many  instances,  almost  irreparable,  in 
kind  and  extent.  Innumerable  churches 
were  wholly  or  partially  ruined,  and  the 
number  of  cattle  killed  was  very  great. 
The  gale  was  also  severely  felt  by 
vessels  off  Cape  Hatteras,  in  the  gulf 
stream,  off  the  capes  of  Delaware,  at  Sandy 
Hook,  Nantucket  Shoals,  Cape  Ann,  Cape 
Henlopen,  etc. 

The  course  of  the  gale,  as  ascertained 
from  data  procured  from  various  points, 
furnishes  facts  of  peculiar  meteorological 
interest.  Thus,  in  Philadelphia,  there 
was,  during  most  of  the  night  of  the 
twenty-second,  a  gale  from  the  north-east, 
with  heavy  rain.  Early  the  next  day,  the 
wind  veered  to  the  north-west,  the  gale 
continuing,  with  torrents  of  rain,  for  sev- 
eral hours.  Between  eight  and  nine 
o'clock,  the  wind  slackened,  the  rain 
ceased,  and  clouds  broke  away  in  the  west 
and  south.  About  noon,  the  weather  was 
clear  and  mild,  with  a  gentle  westerly 
breeze.  During  the  greater  part  of-  the 
afternoon,  the  sun  was  obscured  with  fly- 
ing clouds  from  the  west  and  north-west. 

In  New  York,  a  violent  north-east  storm 
of  wind  and  rain  commenced  at  night,  on 


182 


THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


the  twenty-first ;  about  two  o'clock,  the 
wind  suddenly  shifted  to  the  north  and 
north-west,  blowing  with  increased  vio- 
lence. On  the  twenty-second,  there  was  a 
gale  all  day,  from  the  north-east  and  east, 
with  heavy  and  incessant  rain.  The  gale 
increased  in  the  evening,  continuing  until 
four  o'clock  the  next  afternoon,  though 
most  violent  at  nine  o'clock  the  same  fore- 
noon, the  wind  being  north  to  north-west. 
At  New  London,  Connecticut,  the  storm 
commenced  on  Friday,  the  twenty-second, 
a  heavy  rain  falling  during  that  day  and 
night,  the  wind  north-east.  Next  morn- 
ing, the  twenty-third,  the  wind  became 
very  violent,  and  soon  after  almost  a  hur- 
ricane. The  tide,  which  commenced  flood 
about  six  o'clock,  had,  by  ten,  risen  three 
or  four  feet  higher  than  was  ever  known 
before.  The  rise  was  so  rapid,  too,  that 
some  of  the  dwellings  were  deluged  before 
the  inhabitants  knew  of  their  danger,  and 
not  more  than  thirty  minutes  elapsed  after 
they  thus  realized  their  peril,  before  the 
waves  rose  four  to  six  feet  in  the  streets  ! 
Stores  were  soon  seen  falling  before  the 
terrible  power  of  the  tempest,  buildings 
were  unroofed,  giant  trees  fell.  But  this 
awful  scene  of  destruction  was  short. 
Soon  after  eleven  o'clock,  the  wind  shifted 
to  the  westward  and  abated ;  the  sea 
returned  with  the  velocity  it  came  in, 
though  it  should  have  run  flood  until 
twelve ;  and  the  storm  ceased.  The  show- 
ers which  fell  over  the  city  and  neighbor- 
hood were  of  salt  water  ;  and  the  leaves  of 
the  tender  fruit-trees  and  shrubs  and  of 
many  forest  trees,  without  frost,  shrunk  in 
a  few  hours  after  the  gale  as  though  they 
had  been  scorched.  Brooks  and  wells  in 
the  town  and  neighborhood  became  brack- 
ish ;  and  during  the  strength  of  the  wind, 
in  the  eddies,  the  air  was  extremely  hot 
and  suffocating. 

Far  into  the  interior,  the  tempest  swept 
and  raged  with  unparalleled  fury.  Early 
on  Saturday  morning,  the  wind  became 
rery  violent,  and  torrents  of  rain  descended, 
continuing  with  but  short  intermissions 
until  about  half-past  ten  in  the  forenoon  ; 
at  this  time,  the  rain  abated,  and  the  wind, 


suddenly  shifting  to  the  south-east,  blew  a 
hurricane,  the  terrible  devastation  of  which 
covered  a  column  or  area  of  sixty  miles  in 
width.  A  suffocating  current  of  air  as, 
from  a  hot  bath,  accompanied  the  middle 
stage  of  the  tempest.  Flocks  of  gulls, 
from  the  far-off  ocean,  were  seen  after  the 
storm  in  the  Worcester  meadows,  and,  as 
evening  approached,  they  flew  toward  the 
sea. 

Along  the  seaboard,  the  effect  of  the 
tide  upon  the  soil  and  its  productions  was 
very  marked.  Grass  was  entirely  killed. 
There  was  not  a  green  blade  to  be  seen,  in 
any  place,  over  which  the  flood  had  passed. 
In  a  few  spots,  near  running  springs,  some 
new  shoots  appeared  in  the  course  of  the 
autumn  ;  but  on  uplands,  none  grew  until 
another  season,  and  then  it  was  not  the 
same  kind  of  grass  which  grew  there 
before,  excepting  in  a  very  few  instances. 
Several  cedar-swamps  were  filled  with  sea 
water,  which,  having  no  outlet,  soaked 
into  the  ground.  The  trees  in  these 
swamps  perished  forthwith,  the  leaves 
withering  and  falling  off  in  a  very  short 
time.  In  the  trees  cut  from  these  swamps 
during  the  winter  following  the  storm,  the 
sap-wood  had  turned  nearly  black;  and 
there  was  scarcely  an  instance  in  which  a 
cedar-tree  survived  the  effect  of  the  flood. 
Pine  and  oak  trees  suffered  a  similar  fate, 
excepting  a  very  few,  which  stood  near 
the  shore, — these  latter,  perhaps,  having 
grown  accustomed  to  the  influence  of  salt 
water,  and  could  better  endure  the  ordeal, 
— though  a  very  great  proportion  even  of 
these  perished  in  a  short  time.  Most  of 
the  shrubs  and  bushes,  over  which  the  tide 
passed,  perished  similarly.  It  was  ob- 
served, however,  that  one  or  two  species 
of  laurel,  and  the  common  bayberry,  were 
but  little  if  at  all  injured,  and  some  of 
the  swamp  whortleberry-bushes  survived. 
Apple  trees  were,  generally,  on  such  high 
ground,  that  the  tide  did  not  reach  them ; 
only  a  few  were  surrounded  by  the  water, 
and  none  of  them  were  so  situated  that  the 
water  could  remain  about  them  for  any 
length  of  time.  They  were,  nevertheless, 
as  much  exposed  as  many  of  the  cedars 


THE  EVER-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


183 


which  died;  but  the  apple  trees  continued 
to  live,  though  considerably  stinted  in 
their  growth.  With  these  exceptions,  the 
destruction  of  vegetable  life  in  localities  of 
this  exposure,  was  very  general,  if  not 
universal. 

Wherever  the  cultivated  lands  were  in 
low  places  near  the  shore,  they  were  of 
course  overflowed.  In  fields  where  Indian 
corn  was  standing,  the  roots  were,  in  most 
cases,  torn  out  of  the  ground ;  and  where 
this  did  not  take  place,  the  stalks  were 
wrenched  and  twisted,  and  the  spikes 
broken  off.  The  corn,  where  it  had  pre- 
viously grown  hard  or  ripe,,  was  fit  for 
food,  but  where  the  grain  had  not  already 
hardened,  it  failed  to  do  so,  and  either  per- 
ished in  the  husk,  or  very  soon  after  it 
was  taken  out.  It  was  a  common  remark, 
that  no  part  of  the  plant  could  be  dried  by 
any  means,  and  therefore  by  far  the 
greater  part  of  the  harvest  was  lost,  not 
being  yet  ripe.  Potatoes,  and  other 
vegetable  roots,  if  left  in  the  ground, 
perished ;  but,  where  they  had  ripened, 
and  were  taken  up  within  a  few  days 
after  the  flood,  and  well  dried,  they  were 
good. 


which  the  tide  water  did  not  run,  were  so 
infected  with  the  taste  and  qualities  of  sea 
water,  as  to  be  totally  unfit  for  domestic 
purposes.  The  inhabitants  were  obliged 
therefore  to  transport  this  necessary  article 
for  household  uses,  from  a  great  distance ; 
and  travelers  who  needed  it  were  glad  to 
receive  it  in  a  measure  of  the  smallest 
capacity.  In  some  wells  near  the  shore, 
the  water  formerly  rose  and  fell  with  the 
tide,  still  remaining  fresh  ;  but  the  severe 
and  peculiar  discipline  of  this  flood  so 
changed  their  habit,  that  the  water  in 
them  became  of  a  fixed  height,  and  saltish. 
When  the  vast  and  tremendous  tide  was 
sweeping  over  the  land,  the  spray  arising 
from  it  was  very  great,  over  a  wide  surface 
of  country,  extending  to  the  furthermost 
of  the  interior  of  the  northern  states.  It 
is  spoken  of  as  having  resembled  a  driving 
snoiv-storm,  through  which  objects  could 
be  discerned  only  at  short  distances.  In 
the  more  northerly  regions,  it  was  observed, 
immediately  after  the  storm,  that  a  singu- 
lar effect  had  been  produced  upon  the 
leaves  of  the  trees  by  the  spray;  their 
vitality  was  destroyed,  and  they  exhibited 
an  appearance  similar  to  that  which 


HORRORS  OF  THE   WHIRLWIND   THROUGHOUT  NEW   ENGLAND. 


Fresh  water,  along  the  seaboard,  was, 
for  a  long  time,  a  rarity  of  price,  the  wells 
having  been  generally  overflown  and  left 
full  of  sea  water.  Watering-places  for 
cattle  suffered  a  similar  fate ;  and  so 
extensive  was  the  influence  of  the  flood, 
that  many  wells,  pools  and  streams,  into 


accompanies  frost,  except  that  they 
retained  more  of  their  original  color,  and 
in  some  instances  they  assumed  a  dark 
red  hue,  as  if  they  had  been  well  scorched. 
But  in  other  sections  along  the  shore,  the 
leaves  did  not  exhibit  this  peculiar  dis- 
coloration ;  those  which  were  destroyed  by 


184 


THE  EVEK-MEMORABLE  GALE. 


the  flood,  bore  every  mark  of  death,  but 
not  of  having  been  burnt, — neither  was 
there  any  thin  coating  of  salt  on  the  win- 
dows in  these  regions,  as  on  those  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Boston  and  elsewhere. 

In  multitudes  of  instances,  the  saltness 
of  the  wells  and  watering-places  continued 
unabated  for  six  months,  or  until  the  first 
week  of  the  following  March.  The  winter 
had  been  severe,  and  the  ground  frozen 
very  deep  until  the  middle  of  February, 
when  there  were  several  weeks  of  moderate 
weather,  with  soft  rains,  which  dissolved 
the  snows  and  opened  the  ground  ;  shortly 
after  which,  it  was  discovered  that  several 
of  the  wells  and  ponds  were  fi">sh.  As 
the  water  in  these  had  been  tasted  but  a 
few  days  previously  and  was  found  still  to 
retain  its  disagreeableness,  the  freshness 
must  have  taken  place  suddenly.  After 
successive  spells  of  dry  weather,  these 
wells  grew  salt  again,  but  not  to  the  same 
degree  as  before ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
they  would  be  fresh,  after  heavy  rains,  and 
then  become  salt  again  after  dry  weather, 
the  degree  of  saltness  diminishing  from 
time  to  time.  This  peculiarity  continued 
for  several  years,  in  some  localities,  being, 
of  course,  a  great  inconvenience  to  man 
and  beast. 

The  center  or  the  limits  of  this  great 
and  memorable  tempest,  scientific  investi- 
gators were  unable  to  determine.  It  was 
very  violent  at  places  separated  by  a  con- 
siderable interval  from  each  other;  while 
the  intermediate  region  suffered  much  less. 
Its  course  through  forests  was,  in  some 
instances,  marked  almost  as  definitely,  as 
where  the  trees  have  been  newly  cut  down 
for  a  road.  In  these  cases,  it  appears  to 
have  been  a  moving  vortex,  and  not  the 
rushing  forward  of  the  great  body  of  the 
atmosphere.  There  seems  to  have  been 
no  part  of  the  coast  of  New  England  which 
escaped  its  fury,  though  in  Vermont  and 
"  the  western  parts  of  New. Hampshire  its 
severity  was  much  less ;  yet  still  further 
west,  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  gale  was  so 
great  as  to  render  it  extremely  dangerous 
to  be  upon  the  river.  And  what  is  still 
more  remarkable,  the  storm  began  to  grow 


violent  at  this  place  about  the  same  time 
that  it  commenced  near  the  Atlantic,  and 
subsided  about  the  same  time. 

As  to  the  direction  of  the  wind,  at  the 
several  places  where  the  storm  prevailed, 
Professor  Farrar's  account  states,  that,  on 
the  twenty-second,  the  wind  was  pretty 
generally  from  the  north-east.  The  stom 
commenced  to  the  leeward ;  but  when  the 
wind  shifted  from  north-east  to  east  and 
south,  along  the  coast  of  New  England,  it 
veered  round  in  the  opposite  direction  at 
New  York,  and  at  an  earlier  period.  It 
reached  its  greatest  height  at  this  latter 
place  about  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
the  twenty-third,  when  it  was  from  the 
north-west ;  whereas,  at  Boston,  it  became 
most  violent  and  devastating  about  two 
hours  later,  and  blew  from  the  opposite 
quarter  of  the  heavens.  At  Montreal,  the 
direction  of  the  wind  was  the  same  as  at 
New  York,  but  did  not  attain  its  greatest 
height  so  soon  by  several  hours.  The 
barometer  descended  very  fast  during  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-third,  and,  when 
the  wind  was  highest,  had  fallen  about 
half  an  inch.  It  began  to  rise  as  the  wind 
abated,  and  recovered  its  former  elevation 
by  the  time  the  air  was  restored  to  its 
usual  tranquillity. 

According  to  the  investigations  made 
by  others,  and 'the  observations  recorded 
at  the  time,  in  different  places,  the  follow- 
ing facts  are  believed  to  be  established, 
namely :  That  the  hurricane  commenced 
in  the  West  Indies,  and  moved  northward 
at  the  rate  of  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  an 
hour.  Its  course  from  St.  Barts  was  about 
west-north-west  to  Turks  Island,  and 
thence  to  Boston  —  nearly  on  the  same 
meridian — it  was  a  curve  convex  to  the 
west.  Previous  to  the  arrival  of  the  hur- 
riqane  in  New  England,  a  north-east  storm 
had  prevailed  along  the  Atlantic  coast  for 
more  than  twenty-four  hours.  For  some 
hours  previous  to  the  hurricane,  there  was 
a  great  and  rapid  condensation  of  vapor, 
producing  a  heavy  fall  of  rain  in  the  line 
of  the  north-east  storm.  The  hurricane, 
or  violent  blow,  was  mostly  from  the  south- 
east, blowing  into  and  at  right  angles  to 


THE  EVER-MEMOEABLE  GALE. 


185 


the  north-east  storm,  at  its  southern  ter- 
mination. As  the  south-east  wind  ap- 
proached the  line  of  the  north-east  storm, 
it  was  deflected  into  an  east  wind.  The 
general  form  of  the  hurricane,  in  and  ahout 
New  England,  was  that  of  an  eccentric 
ellipse,  with  its  longest  diameter  north- 
east and  south-west ;  wind  blowing  north- 
east on  the  north-west  side ;  north-north- 
west, and  west-north-west,  at  its  south 
end ;  south-east  on  its  south-east  side, 
curving  into  an  east  wind  at  its  junc- 
tion with  the  north-east  current ;  wind 
blowing  from  south  at  the  easternmost 
part  of  the  hurricane.  The  whole  body 
of  the  hurricane,  in  the  form  thus 
described,  moved  to  the  north  nearly  on 
the  meridian. 

It  is  universally  admitted,  that  there  is 
no  account  of  a  storm  or  gale  in  all  respects 
so  remarkable  in  its  phenomena  as  this,  to 
be  found  in  the  history  of  the  United 
States.  Other  hurricanes  there  have  been, 
laying  waste  whatever  came  in  their  way, 
but  they  have  been  comparatively  limited 
in  their  extent  and  destructiveness. 
Morton,  in  his  New  England  Memorial, 
gives  a  description  of  the  violent  tempest 
that  took  place  soon  after  the  first  settle- 
ment at  Plymouth.  It  began  on  the 
morning  of  August  fifteenth,  1635,  very 
suddenly,  "  blew  down  houses,  uncovered 
divers  others,  divers  vessels  were  lost  at 
sea;  it  caused  the  sea  to  swell  in  some 
places  so  that  it  arose  to  twenty  foot  right 
up  and  down,  and  made  many  Indians  to 
climb  into  trees  for  their  safety ;  blew 
down  many  hundred  thousands  of  trees," 
etc.  The  tremendous  gales  of  1723,  1804, 
1818,  1821,  1836,  1841,  1851.  1859, 
1860,  1869,  and  some  others,  will  long 


be  remembered  in  certain  localities,  for 
their  severity  and  the  loss  of  life 
and  property,  on  land  and  sea,  which 
attended  them  ;  but  neither  the  memory 
of  man,  nor  the  annals  of  the  country, 
from  its  first  settlement  down  to  the 
present  time,  furnish  any  parallel  to 
the  peculiar  character  of  the  great  gale 
of  September,  1815. 

Of  the  storms  and  floods  which  occurred 
during  the  last  half  of  the  century,  those 
of  September  and  October,  1869,  were  per- 
haps the  most  memorable.  The  devasta- 
tion by  the  latter  embraced  the  whole 
country  between  the  Nova  Scotia  coast  and 
the  Mississippi,  and  from  the  north  limits 
of  the  Canadas  to  the  cotton  states.  The 
rain  fell  in  torrents  for  about  forty  consec- 
utive hours,  the  dense  clouds  descending 
in  vast  sheets,  and  a  moaning  wind  accom- 
panying the  powerful  outpouring.  A 
stronger  storm  was  beyond  conception.  In 
some  places,  the  rain-gauge  showed  that 
four  inches  of  rain  fell  in  the  course  of 
twenty-nine  hours,  and,  during  the  suc- 
ceeding six  hours,  3.34  inches  additional, 
— the  total  fall  of  water  during  the  storm, 
over  a  vast  region  of  country,  reaching  the 
enormous  amount  of  8.05  inches.  The 
resulting  floods  on  all  the  streams  were 
beyond  any  ever  recorded.  The  storm  was 
so  sudden  and  unexpected,  that  no  pre- 
cautions could  have  been  taken,  and  none 
were.  Railroads,  telegraph  wires,  streets, 
bridges,  dams,  manufactories,  houses,  lands, 
crops,  were  utterly  or  partially  ruined, 
over  a  wide  extent  of  country ;  and  such 
an  embargo  on  travel  was  never  known 
before.  The  pecuniary  losses  reached 
millions  of  dollars,  and  many  lives  were 
lost. 


XXIII. 

VISIT     OF    LAFAYETTE    TO    AMERICA,    AS    THE   GUEST 
OF    THE   REPUBLIC.— 1824. 


His  Tour  of  Fire  Thousand  Miles  Through  the  Twenty-Four  States. — A  National  Ovation  on  the 
Grandest  Scale. — Cities,  States,  Legislatures  and  Governors,  Vie  in  Their  Demonstrations  of  Respect. 
— The  Venerable  Patriot  Enters  the  Tomb  and  Stands  Beside  the  Remains  of  His  Great  Departed 
Friend,  Washington.  —  Noble  Qualities  of  the  Marquis.  —  A  Favorite  of  Louis  XVI.  —  Hears 
of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill. — Pleads  the  Cause  of  the  Americans. — Resolves  to  Join  Their 
Army — Freely  Consecrates  His  Vast  Wealth. — Equips  a  Vessel  and  Embarks — Introduced  to 
General  Washington— Admiration  of  Him  by  the  Chieftain. — One  of  Washington's  Military 
Family. — A  Major-General  in  His  Nineteenth  Year. — Heroic  Fidelity  During  the  War. — Subse- 
quent Vicissitudes  in  France. — America's  Heart-Felt  Sympathy. — He  Leaves  Havre  for  New  York. — 

Enthusiasm  Excit- 
ed by  His  Pres- 
ence. —  Incidents, 
Interviews,  Fetes. 
—  Greetings  with 
Old  Comrades.  — 
— Memories,  Joys, 
and  Tears.  —  De- 
parts in  the  United 
States  Ship  Lafay- 
ette. —  His  Death 
in  1834.— National 
Grief. 


THE  LANDIXG  OF  LAFAYETTE  AT  NEW  YOKK. 


"  Fortunate,  fortunate  m«n  ! 
Heaven  flaw  tit  to  ordain  that 
the  electric  enark  of  liberty 
should  be  conducted.through 


, 

the  Old."—  JUiKllL 


fayette 
rld  to 


"WO  names  are  most  intimately  and  indissolubly  associated  with 
the  dramatic  train  of  military  events  which  led  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  United  States  as  a  nation  and  government,  namely, 
those  of  WASHINGTON  and  LAFAYETTE.  No  two  names  are, 
down  to  the  present  day,  more  fresh  in  the  love  and  gratitude  of  the  American  people, 
and,  until  time  shall  be  no  more,  a  test  of  the  fidelity  with  which  that  people  hold  to 
the  principles  of  republican  wisdom  and  virtue  that  gave  them  birth,  will  be  their 
admiration  of  the  names  of  those  patriots  and  heroes.  To  understand,  therefore. 
the  significance  of  that  spontaneous  outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm  which  greeted 
Lafayette  on  his  visit  to  America  in  1824,  and  which  made  that  year  one  of  the  most 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


187 


memorable  in  the  nation's  history,  it  will 
only  be  necessary  to  glance  at  the  services, 
military  and  civil,  rendered  us  by  this 
large-hearted  patriot,  during  the  opening 
years  of  our  national  existence.  Those 
services  and  that  reception  form,  indeed,  a 
national  romance. 

When  only  thirteen  years  of  age,  Lafay- 
ette was  left  an  orphan,  and  in  full  posses- 
sion of  valuable  estates,  and  master  of  his 
own  affairs.  Being  for  a  time  at  the  col- 
lege in  Paris,  his  associations  brought  him 
into  notice  at  the  court  of  King  Louis,  and 
he  became  quite  a  favorite  with  that  mon- 
arch. He  was  appointed  one  of  the 
queen's  pages,  and  through  her  agency 
received  a  commission  at  the  early  age  of 
fifteen.  He  formed  an  early  attachment 
to  a  daughter  of  the  noble  family  of 
Noailles,  with  whom  he  was  united  in 
marriage  at  the  age  of  sixteen.  Adopting 
the  profession  of  a  soldier,  Lafayette,  at 
nineteen,  was  stationed,  as  captain  of  dra- 
goons, at  Metz,  one  of  the  garrisoned 
towns  of  France.  Here,  in  1776,  Lafay- 
ette's attention  was  directed  to  the  conflict 
of  liberty  in  America  —  the  hostilities 
between  Britain  and  her  colonies ;  and 
while  in  conversation  with  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  brother  to  George  the  Third,  of 
England,  he  elicited  facts  that  led  him  to 
see  the  whole  merits  of  the  case.  The 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill  and  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  fired  his  heart !  Before 
rising  from  the  dinner-table  at  which  this 
interview  occurred,  Lafayette  had  resolved 
to  leave  his  home,  and  offer  himself  and 
his  services  to  the  rising  republic,  whose 
cause  he  regarded  as  just  and  noble.  From 
that  hour  he  could  think  of  nothing  but 
this  chivalrous  enterprise,  though  aware 
that  it  would  cut  him  off  from  the  favor 
of  that  brilliant  court-circle  in  which  he 
shone  so  conspicuously,  and  that  he  would 
also  have  to  tear  himself  away  from  his 
young,  beautiful,  and  fondly  attached 
wife,  who  alone,  among  all  his  associates, 
approved  of  his  intention. 

Proceeding  to  Paris,  he  confided  his 
scheme  to  two  young  friends,  Count  Segur 
and  Viscount  Noailles,  and  proposed  that 


they  should  join  him.  They  entered  with 
enthusiasm  into  his  views,  but,  owing  to 
obstacles  put  in  their  way  through  family 
interference,  they  were  prevented  from 
following  out  their  course,  but  faithfully 
kept  their  comrade's  secret.  He  next 
explained  his  intention  to  Count  Broglie, 
who  advised  him  to  abandon  it  at  once  as 
in  the  highest  degree  chimerical  and  haz- 
ardous. The  count  assured  him  that  his 
confidence  was  not  misplaced;  but,  said 
he— 

"  I  have  seen  your  uncle  die  in  the  wars 
of  Italy,  I  witnessed  your  father's  death  at 
the  battle  of  Minden,  and  I  will  not  be 
accessory  to  the  ruin  of  the  only  remaining 
branch  of  the  family." 

But,  so  far  from  being  disheartened  by 
the  unpromising  reception  which  Lafay- 
ette's plan  met  with  from  those  to  whom 
he  made  known  Tiis  purposes,  his  ardor 
was  rather  increased  in  the  pursuit  of  his 
object.  "  My  zeal  and  love  of  liberty," 
said  he,  "have  perhaps  been  hitherto  the 
prevailing  motives ;  but  now  I  see  a 
chance  for  usefulness,  which  I  had  not 
anticipated.  I  have  money;  I  will  pur- 
chase a  ship,  which  shall  convey  to  Amer- 
ica myself,  my  companions,  and  the  freight 
for  congress."  All  this,  as  the  sequel  will 
show,  he  nobly  and  self-sacrificingly  car- 
ried out. 

This  design  was  now  made  known  by 
Lafayette  to  Messrs.  Franklin,  Lee,  and 
Deane,  the  American  commissioners  at 
Paris ;  and  to  a  proposal  so  disinterested 
and  generous  they  could,  of  course,  make 
no  objection, — could  only  admire,  indeed, 
the  spirit  which  actuated  it ;  and  he  hast- 
ened immediately  to  put  it  into  execution. 
After  surmounting  the  many  difficulties 
which  from  time  to  time  interrupted  the 
progress  of  his  plans,  he  at  last  set  sail, 
the  Baron  de  Kalb  and  eleven  other  offi- 
cers of  various  ranks,  in  pursuit  of  em- 
ployment in  the  American  army,  consti- 
tuting his  retinue.  In  due  time  they 
approached  the  shore  near  Georgetown, 
South  Carolina,  having  fortunately  escaped 
two  British  cruisers,  and  soon  proceeded 
to  Charleston  harbor,  where  a  magnificent 


188 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


reception  was  given  them.  The  vessel 
was  subsequently  loaded  with  rice  for  the 
French  market,  but  it  foundered  in  going 
out  of  the  harbor,  and  both  the  vessel  and 
the  cargo  became  a  total  loss. 

But  Lafayette  had  not  yet  reached  his 
destination.  As  soon,  however,  as  all 
things  were  in  readiness,  the  party  left 
Charleston  and  traveled  to  Philadelphia, 
where  congress  was  then  sitting.  On 
arriving  there,  he  put  his  letters  into  tho 
hands  of  Mr.  Lovell,  chairman  of  the  com- 
mittee on  foreign  affairs.  He  called  the 
next  day  at  the  hall  of  congress,  and  Mr. 
Lovell  came  out  to  him  and  said,  that  so 
many  foreigners  had  offered  themselves  for 
employment,  that  congress  was  embar- 
rassed with  their  application,  and  he  was 
sorry  to  inform  him  there  was  very  little 
hope  of  his  success.  Lafayette  suspected 
that  his  papers  had  not  been  read,  and  he 


immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  a  note  to 
the  president  of  congress,  in  which  he 
desired  to  be  permitted  to  serve  in  the 
American  army  on  two  conditions  :  first, 
that  he  should  receive  no  pay;  second, 
that  he  should  act  as  a  volunteer.  These 
terms  were  so  different  from  those  de- 
manded by  other  foreigners,  and  presented 
so  few  obstacles  on  the  ground  of  any 
interference  with  American  officers,  that 
they  were  at  once  accepted.  His  rank, 


real,  perseverance,  and  disinterestedness, 
overcame  every  objection,  and  he  was 
appointed  a  major-general  in  the  American 
army  before  he  had  reached  the  age  of 
twenty. 

But'he  was  yet  to  stand  before  the  face 
of  the  great  American  chieftain.  Wash- 
ington was  at  head-quarters  when  Lafay- 
ette reached  Philadelphia,  but,  being  daily 
expected  in  the  city,  the  young  general 
concluded  to  wait  his  arrival,  instead  of 
presenting  himself  at  carnp.  The  intro- 
duction of  the  youthful  stranger  to  the 
man  on  whom  his  career  depended  was, 
however,  delayed  only  a  few  days.  It 
took  place  in  a  manner  peculiarly  marked 
with  the  circumspection  of  Washington, 
at  a  dinner-party,  where  Lafayette  was 
one  among  several  guests  of  consideration. 
Washington  was  not  uninformed  of  the 
circumstances  connected  with  Lafayette's 
arrival  in  this  country ;  and  it  may  well 
be  supposed  that  the  eye  of  the  father  of 
his  country  was  not  idle  during  the  re- 
past. But  that  searching  glance,  before 
which  pretense  or  fraud  never  stood 
undetected,  was  completely  satisfied. 
When  they  were  about  to  separate, 
Washington  took  Lafayette  aside,  spoke 
to  him  with  kindness,  complimented 
him  upon  the  noble  spirit  he  had  shown 
and  the  sacrifices  he  had  made  in  favor 
of  the  American  cause,  and  then  told 
him  that  he  should  be  pleased  if  he 
would  make  the  quarters  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief  his  home,  establish  him- 
self there  whenever  he  thought  proper, 
and  consider  himself  at  all  times  as  one 
of  his  family, — adding,  in  a  tone  of  pleas- 
antry, that  he  could  not  promise  him  the 
luxuries  of  a  court,  or  even  the  con- 
veniences which  his  former  habits  might 
have  rendered  essential  to  his  comfort,  but, 
since  he  had  become  an  American  soldier 
he  would  doubtless  contrive  to  accommo- 
date himself  to  the  customs,  manners  and 
privations  of  a  republican  army.  Such 
was  the  reception  given  to  Lafayette,  by 
the  most  sagacious  and  observant  of  men  ; 
and  the  personal  acquaintance,  thus  com- 
menced; ripened  into  an  intimacy;  a  con- 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


189 


fidence,  and  an  affection  without  bounds, 
and  never  for  one  moment  interrupted.  If 
there  lived  a  man  whom  Washington 
loved  and  admired,  it  was  Lafayette. 

Gloriously  did  Lafayette  fulfill,  in  his 
military  career,  the  high  hopes  which 
swelled  the  hearts  of  American  patriots,  in 
the  heroic  courage  which  he  displayed  at 
Brandywine,  where  he  received  a  ball  m 
his  leg ;  his  success  in  Jersey,  before  he 
had  recovered  from  his  wounds,  in  a  battle 
where  he  commanded  militia  against  Brit- 
ish grenadiers ;  in  the  brilliant  retreat, 
by  which  he  eluded  a  combined  maneuver 
of  the  whole  British  force ;  by  his  great 
services  in  the  enterprise  against  Rhode 
Island,  and  his  successful  movements 
against  Cornwallis;  —  all  these  proofs  of 
his  patriotism  and  military  skill,  together 
with  his  warm  and  unsullied  friendship 
for  Washington,  through  all  the  varying 
fortunes  of  war,  endeared  him  forever  to 
every  American. 

After  the  fall  of  Cornwallis,  Lafayette 
sailed  for  France,  but  revisited  America 
in  1784.  He  was  received  with  enthusi- 
asm wherever  he  went.  Returning  to 
France,  he  found  himself  the  object  of 
immense  popularity,  and  took  his  seat  with 
the  notables,  convoked  in  1787.  In  1789, 
he  boldly  proposed,  in  the  national  convo- 
cation, the  Declaration  of  Rights,  which 
he  had  brought  from  the  free  soil  of  Amer- 
ica, as  the  preliminary  of  a  constitution. 
Proclamation  of  this  world-renowned  doc- 
ument was  made  July  22,  audit  furnished 
the  French  people  with  the  metaphysical 
reasons  for  the  "  sacred  right  of  insurrec- 
tion." Meanwhile  the  Bastile  had  been 
taken,  July  14,  the  national  guard  organ- 
ized, and  Lafayette  appointed  to  the  com- 
mand. In  this  capacity  he  rode  a  white 
charger,  and  shone  the  impersonation  of 
chivalry,  and  twice  the  royal  family  owed 
their  preservation  to  his  address  and  cour- 
age. When  the  popular  enthusiasm  lulled, 
he  returned  to  his  native  fields ;  the 
national  guard,  on  his  retirement,  present- 
ing him  with  a  bust  of  Washington,  and 
a  sword  forged  from  the  bolts  of  the  Bas- 
tile. Subsequently,  having  denounced  the 


bloodthirsty  Jacobins,  he  was  burned  in 
effigy  by  the  sans-culottes  of  Paris,  and, 
fleeing  from  the  guillotine  which  there 
awaited  him,  he  finally  fell  into  the  hands 
of  the  Austrians,  and  was  by  them  sub- 
jected to  a  long  and  cruel  imprisonment  in 
the  fortress  at  Olmutz.  His  release,  so 
earnestly  but  unsuccessfully  solicited  by 
Washington,  was  peremptorily  demanded 
by  Napoleon,  and  obtained,  in  September, 
1797.  In  the  year  1818,  he  became  a 
member  of  the  chamber  of  deputies,  and, 
resuming  his  career  as  an  advocate  of  con- 
stitutional principles,  succeeded  at  last  in 
elevating  Louis  Philippe  to  the  throne  of 
France. 

By  this  time,  Lafayette  had  grown  old 
in  the  services  he  had  rendered  to  America 
and  France.  Though  his  years  were  now 
nearly  three1  score  and  ten,  he  could  not 
think  of  meeting  death  until  he  had  once 
more  seen  that  land  of  liberty  across  the 
wide  Atlantic,  which  was  as  dear  to  him  as 
his  native  country.  In  its  infancy,  and 
for  its  freedom,  he  had,  fifty  years  ago, 
contributed  his  wealth  and  shed  his  blood, 
sharing  the  bosom  confidence  of  the  great 
Washington  as  did  no  other  human  being. 
That  struggling  little  republic  had  now 
become  a  giant  nation ;  the  thirteen  states 
constituting  the  original  galaxy,  had  be- 
come almost  double  that  number,  and  vast 
as  the  empires  of  antiquity  in  territory. 
Remembering  his  magnificent  services,  in 
1824  the  congress  of  the  United  States 
voted  unanimously  a  resolution  requesting 
President  Monroe  to  invite  Lafayette  to 
visit  the  United  States,  as  the  nation's 
guest, — an  honor  never  before  accorded  a 
foreign  nobleman, — and  tendering  a  ship 
of  the  line  for  his  conveyance.  This  invi- 
tation was  extended  to  the  great  French 
patriot  in  President  Monroe's  most  happj 
manner,  and  was  duly  accepted,  though 
the  offer  of  a  war-ship  was  declined. 

On  the  twelfth  of  July,  1824,  Lafayette, 
accompanied  by  his  son,  George  Washing- 
ton Lafayette,  and  his  secretary,  M.  Levas- 
seur,  sailed  from  Havre  for  America.  He 
arrived  in  New  York,  August  fifteenth, 
and  landed  011  Staten  Island.  One  of  the 


190 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


first  to  greet  him  was  Joseph  Bonaparte, 
brother  of  the  great  Napoleon.  Joseph 
then  resided  at  Bordentown,  New  Jersey  ; 


«WO1«D  OF  HONOR  VRE9EJJTED  TO  LAFAYETTE. 

he  had  always  cherished  a  high  regard  for 
the  Marquis,  and  greatly  valued  his 
friendship.  The  interview  between  the 
two  was  attended  with  the  warmest  emo- 
tions ;  and  whoever  has  seen  Sully's  por- 
trait of  the  great  French  patriot  can  form 
some  adequate  conception  of  the  chieftain's 
magnificent  bearing  on  this  occasion. 

The  announcement  of  his  arrival  sent  a 
thrill  of  joy  to  every  American  heart  and 
home,  and  the  great  pageant  of  his  recep- 
tion commenced  in  the  city  where  he  first 
set  foot  forty  years  before.  As  the  fleet 
arrived  off  the  battery  at  New  York,  a  mili- 
tary line  composed  of  thousands  of  veter- 
ans was  formed,  and  the  people,  crowding 
the  battery  and  all  the  adjacent  streets, 
swelled  the  throng  to  the  number  of  forty 
thousand.  The  patriot  was  deeply  affected 
when  he  exchanged  congratulations  with 
his  old  companions  and  friends.  Shout 
after  shout  went  up  in  long  and  loud 
acclaim,  while  the  Lands  oi  music  p.'ayfiJ 
a  triumphant  welcome  to  the  hero.  His 
stay  in  the  city  was  one  unbroken  succes- 


sion of  high  honors  and  civic  laudation, 
such  as  kings  might  envy  ;  at  Albany,  he 
was  received  by  Vice-Presideut  Tonipkins. 
On  proceeding  to  New  England,  the  same 
enthusiasm  was  exhibited  in  every  city, 
town,  and  village.  From  the  residence  of 
Hon.  William  Eustis,  the  governor  oi 
Massachusetts,  in  Roxbury,  he  was  es- 
corted by  a  large  cavalcade  and  almost  the 
entire  population,  to  Boston,  where  a 
dense  assemblage  awaited  his  appearance. 
Arriving  at  the  line,  he  was  greeted  by 
the  mayor  of  the  city  and  the  people, 
through  whom  he  passed  in  a  superb  car- 
riage, under  deafening  cheers.  The  streets 
were  lined  with  spectators  to  the  entrance 
of  the  beautiful  common.  There,  the 
children  of  the  public  schools  formed  two 
lines,  the  girls  being  dressed  in  spotless 
white,  and  the  boys'  in  white  pants  and 
blue  jackets,  and  all  wearing  appropriate 
badges.  A  little  girl  sprang  forward  from 
the  line  as  Lafayette  was  passing,  and,  at 
her  request  to  speak  to  him,  was  lifted 
into  the  carriage,  when  she  gracefully  pre- 
sented him  with  a  wreath  of  flowers,  which 
the  venerable  hero  received  with  affecting 
courtesy.  While  going  from  town  to  town, 
be  found  in  every  place  some  of  the 
descendants  of  1776,  ready  to  give  him 
the  heartiest  of  welcomes.  Thus,  when 
visiting  Marblehead,  in  Massachusetts,  the 
marquis  manifested  much  curiosity  at  so 
many  ladies  being  mingled  with  the  male 
citizens,  who  had  been  deputed  to  receive 
him.  The  spokesman  of  the  occasion, 
perceiving  the  pleasant  surprise  of  the 
marquis  at  this  peculiar  feature,  said  to 
him — 

"These  are  the  widows  of  those  who 
perished  in  the  revolutionary  war,  and  the 
mothers  of  children  for  whose  liberty  you, 
illustrious  sir !  have  contended  in  the  field 
of  battle.  They  are  now  here  in  the 
places  of  their  husbands,  many  of  whom 
were  once  known  to  you." 

It  may  here  be  remarked,  that  Marble- 
head  was  the  "  banner  town  "  for  furnish- 
ing soldiers,  in  the  revolutionary  war, 
uiere  being  a  larger  proportion  to  the 
whcle  number  c£  inhabitants  from  that 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


191 


lovra  than  any  other  place  in  the  United 
States.  The  Britisli  armed  vessels  hover- 
ing on  the  coast  destroyed  the  coasting 
and  fishing  business,  and  thus  the  loss  of 
men  in  the  war  fell  heavily  upon  the  small 
seaport  towns ;  for,  heing  out  of  employ- 
ment, nearly  all  the  young  and  old  men 
shouldered  their  muskets  and  joined  the 
army. 

At  Philadelphia  he  was  welcomed  with 
almost  idolizing  enthusiasm ;  for  tender 
and  thrilling  indeed  were  the  associations 
which  linked  together  the  history  of  the 
past  and  present  of  that  city,  in  the  person 
and  services  of  Lafayette  ;  the  hospitali- 
ties of  the  state  were  appropriately  dis- 
pensed by  Governor  Shultze.  On  landing 
at  Baltimore,  he  was  conducted  to  the 
'  tent  of  Washington,'  and  the  freedom  of 
the  state  and  city  conferred  upon  him  in 
an  address  by  Governor  Stevens.  For 
some  time  Lafayette  could  not  precisely 
understand  the  compliment  conveyed  in 
the  selection  of  the  tent — especially  one  of 
that  construction — for 
such  proceedings.  It 
was  soon  made  plain, 
however,  for,  glancing 
around,  he  recognized 
a  portion  of  Washing- 


LAFAYETTE'S  RESIDENCE. 


ton's  personal  equipage 
during  the  war;  and 
turning  to  one  near 


him,  he  said,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emo- 
tion, "/  remember!"  Proceeding  to 
Washington,  Lafayette  was  received  with 
open  arms  by  President  Monroe,  at  the 
executive  mansion.  Congress  had  just 
assembled  in  regular  session,  at  the  capitol. 
He  was  introduced  to  both  houses,  and  was 
formally  and  elegantly  addressed  by  Mr. 
Clay,  speaker  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, the  two  branches  unanimously  unit- 
ing in  their  legislative  honors  to  the 
nation's  guest.  At  this  session  the  sum 
of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  together 
with  a  township,  consisting  of  twenty- 
four  thousand  acres  of  fertile  land,  was 
voted  by  congress  to  General  Lafayette,  as 
an  expression  of  the  grateful  memory  with 
which  the  people  of  America  regarded  his 
services  in  their  behalf.  A  few  of  the 
members  felt  themselves  constrained,  from 
some  doubts  respecting  its  constitution- 
ality, to  vote  against  this  appropriation. 
Lafayette,  taking  one  of  them  by  the 
hand,  said  to  him  with  considerable  feel- 
ing: 

"  I   appreciate   your  views.     If  I  had 
been  a  member,  I  should  have  voted  with 
you,  not  only  because  I  partake  of  the  sen- 
timents which  determined  your  votes,  but 
also  because  I  think  that   the  American 
nation  has  done  too  much  for  me." 
Most  characteristic  of  Lafayette's 
disinterestedness   and  magnanim- 
ity was  that  remark ! 

At  this  time,  Governor  Pleas- 
ant was   chief  magistrate    of  the 
'  Old  Dominion,'  and  warmly  wel- 
comed    the     na- 
tion's guest.   The 
emotions    experi- 
enced  by   Lafay- 
ette,  as   he   once 
more  trod  the  bat- 
tle-fields   of   Vir- 
ginia,   can    of 
course  hardly  be 
described.     York 
town,  distinguish- 
surrender     of     Cornwallis, 
gave     the    finishing    blow 
presented     a     vast    field 


ed  for  the 
which  event 
to  the  war. 


192 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


of  tents  at  the  reception  of  Lafayette. 
The  same  house  occupied  by  Cornwallis,  as 
his  head-quarters  in  1781,  was  still  stand- 
ing. The  general  appearance  of  the  place 
gave  evidence  of  a  deserted  village.  The 
houses  of  yore,  which  had  been  riddled 
with  balls  and  blackened  with  smoke,  still 
retained  the  marks  of  battle.  In  many 
parts  of  the  ground  were  seen  broken 
shells,  and  gun-carriages,  with  various 
implements  of  war, — some  on  rocks,  and 
others  half  buried  in  the  earth ;  every 
arrangement  having  been  made  to  give  the 
town,  on  Lafayette's  arrival,  the  appear- 
ance of  a  place  taken  and  occupied  after  a 
severe  contest  in  battle.  One  of  the  tents 
erected  on  this  occasion,  was  the  one  used 
by  Washington  at  the  time  of  the  siege, 
together  with  others  which  had  furnished 
temporary  apartments  for  weary  soldiers 
during  the  eventful  campaign.  An  arch, 
bearing  the  names  of  Lafayette,  Hamilton, 
and  Laurens,  was  erected  on  the  very  spot 
where  the  redoubt  stood  which  was  stormed 
by  Lafayette  ;  an  obelisk  was  also  erected, 
bearing  the  names  of  distinguished  French- 
men. And  on  the  same  spot  it  is  said 
that  the  orator  of  the  occasion  was  design- 
ing, at  the  close  of  his  address,  to  place  a 
blended  civic  crown  and  national  wreath 
in  honor  of  Lafayette,  who,  while  he 
acknowledged  the  unique  compliment, 
gracefully  averted  its  consummation,  and, 
taking  the  symbolic  garland  in  his  hand, 
called  for  Colonel  Fish,  the  only  survivor 
of  the  attack  upon  the  redoubt,  and 
declared  that  half  the  honor  belonged  to 
him.  Washington's  marquee  was  erected 
on  the  plain,  just  out  of  the  village.  Be- 
ing escorted  to  this  tent,  Lafayette  gave 
an  affecting  welcome  to  the  officers  of  the 
militia.  Two  old  veterans  were  there,  who 
had  faced  the  enemy  in  war,  and  stood  firm 
in  the  midst  of  the  roar  of  the  cannon  ; 
but  as  they  pressed  the  hand  of  Lafayette 
on  this  occasion,  the  old  heroes  wept  and 
fainted.  Some  of  the  servants  who  were 
present  discovered  in  an  obscure  corner  of 
a  cellar  a  large  box  of  candles,  bearing 
marks  of  belonging  to  Cornwallis's  military 
stores — having  remained  undisturbed  for 


forty-three  years.  They  were  lighted  for 
the  evening,  and  notwithstanding  the 
fatigues  of  the  day,  some  of  the  old  soldiers 
remained  till  the  last  vestige  of  these  Brit- 
ish candles  had  expired  in  the  sockets. 

Taking  Camden,  South  Carolina — Gov- 
ernor Richard  J.  Manning, — in  his  tour, 
Lafayette  assisted  in  laying  the  corner- 
stone of  a  monument  erected  to  the  name 
and  memory  of  Baron  de  Kalb,  a  German 
by  birth,  who  came  over  in  the  same  vessel 
with  Lafayette,  in  1776,  and  volunteered 
his  services  in  the  American  army  for 
three  years.  He  fell  while  bravely  en- 
gaged in  the  battle  at  Camden,  pierced 
with  eleven  deadly  wounds.  It  is  said 
that  Washington,  visiting  the  baron's 
grave  many  years  after  his  death,  sighed 
as  he  looked  upon  it,  and  exclaimed, 
"  There  lies  the  brave  De  Kalb,  the  gener- 
ous stranger,  who  came  from  a  distant 
land  to  fight  our  battles,  and  to  water  with 
his  blood  the  tree  of  Liberty.  Would  to 
God  he  had  lived  to  share  with  us  in  its 
fruits  ! "  At  Savannah,  Georgia,  after 
being  welcomed  by  Governor  Troup,  Lafay- 
ette united  in  the  same  service  commemor- 
ative of  Generals  Greene  and  Pulaski. 
On  the  seventeenth  of  June,  Lafayette 
witnessed  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of 
Bunker  Hill  monument,  at  Charlestown, 
Massachusetts ;  he  was  the  only  surviving 
major-general  of  the  revolution  who  was 
present  at  this  ceremony.  Colonel  Francis 
K.  Huger  participated  in  the  patriotic 
services — the  man  who,  when  a  lad,  walked 
with  Lafayette  over  his  father's  grounds, 
and  who,  some  thirty  years  before  this 
seventeenth  of  June,  risked  his  life  in 
attempting  to  aid  the  escape  of  Lafayette 
from  the  castle  of  Olmutz.  The  people  of 
Charlestown  not  only  welcomed  Huger, 
but  gave  him  a  seat  by  the  side  of  Lafay- 
ette, in  the  carriage  which  moved  in  the 
procession,  and  also  one  near  him  at  the 
festive  board.  Daniel  Webster  was  the 
orator  for  the  day  ;  it  was  the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  the  battle  ;  and  everything  con- 
spired to  render  the  day  memorable.  As 
the  procession  passed,  Lafayette  was  con- 
tinually hailed  with  demonstrations  of  love 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMEKICA. 


193 


and  gratitude.  The  procession  was  sev- 
eral miles  long,  and,  on  arriving  at  the  his- 
toric spot,  the  impressive  rite  of  laying  the 
corner-stone  was  performed  by  the  grand 
master  of  the  Freemasons,  the  president  of 


the  Monument  Association,  and  General 
Lafayette,  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  con- 
course of  people.  The  assembly  then 
moved  to  a  spacious  amphitheatre,  where 
the  oration  was  pronounced  by  Mr.  Web- 
ster, before  as  great  a  multitude  as  was 
ever,  perhaps,  assembled  within  the  sound 
of  a  human  voics. 

There  was  one  place — Kaskaskia,  on  the 
route  of  Lafayette's  tour,  at  which,  though 
no  preparations  had  been  made  to  receive 
him,  he  paused  a  short  time;  and  here  it 
was  that  a  most  affecting  incident  oc- 
curred. Curiosity  induced  one  of  his  com- 
panions to  go  and  look  at  an  Indian 
encampment,  a  short  distance  from  the 
town.  lie  there  met  with  an  educated 
Indian  woman,  who  spoke  the  French  lan- 
guage tolerably  well,  and  who  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  Lafayette,  and  to  show  him  a 
relic  which  she  always  carried  with  her, 
and  which  was  "very  dear  to  her."  She 
wished  to  show  it  to  Lafayette,  as  proof  of 
the  veneration  with  which  his  name  was 
regarded  among  their  tribes.  It  was  a 
letter  written  by  Lafayette  in  1778,  and 
addressed  to  her  father,  Panisciowa,  a 
13 


chief  of  one  of  the  six  nations.  This  letter 
expressed  the  hearty  thanks  of  Lafayette 
for  the  faithful  services  of  that  chief  in  the 
American  cause.  The  name  of  this  only 
child  of  the  old  chief  was  Mary,  who,  at 
the  decease  of  her  mother,  was 
placed  under  the  care  of  an 
American  agent,  by  whom  she 
was  instructed  and  kindly  treat- 
ed. She  became  a  Christian.  As 
she  was  walking  out  in  the  for- 
est, about  five 
years  after,  an 
Indian  warrior 
overtook  her  and 
informed  her  that 
her  father  was  dy- 
ing, and  wished 
to  see  her.  She 
soon  started  off, 
traveled  all  night, 
and  in  the  morn- 
ing reached  his 
hut,  which  was 
situated  in  a  narrow  valley.  As  she  came  to 
his  bedside,  he  took  from  his  pouch  a  paper 
wrapped  in  a  dry  skin,  and  gave  it  to  her, 
with  a  charge  to  preserve  it  as  a  precious 
gift,  saying :  "  It  is  a  powerful  charm  to 
interest  the  pale-faces  in  your  favor.  I 
received  it  from  a  great  French  warrior, 
whom  the  English  dreaded  as  much  as  the 
Americans  loved  him,  and  with  whom  I 
fought  in  my  youth."  The  chief  died  the 
next  day.  Mary  returned  to  her  white 
friends,  and  soon  after  married  the  young 
warrior,  who  was  her  father's  friend  and 
companion.  She  liad  the  pleasure  of 
showing  the  letter  to  Lafayette,  who  rec- 
ognized it,  and  listened  with  great  respect 
and  deep  feeling  to  her  touching  story. 

Another  most  interestingepisode  was  that 
which  transpired  at  Lafayette's  reception 
in  Nashville,  Tenn.,  Governor  Carroll  pre- 
siding at  the  state  ceremonies.  There  had 
come  from  different  parts  of  the  country 
about  forty  officers  and  soldiers  of  the  rev- 
olution. Among  the  number  was  an  aged 
man  who  had  traveled  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles.  His  name  was  Haguy,  a 
German,  and  he  was  one  of  those  who 


I 


194 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


embarked  in  the  same  vessel  with  Lafay- 
ette for  this  country,  nearly  fifty  years 
back,  and  served  under  him  during  the 
whole  war.  The  old  veteran,  clasping 
Lafayette's  hand  with  affectionate 
warmth,  the  tears  rolling  down  his 
cheeks,  said : 

"I  have  come  many  miles  to  see  the 
'young  general.'  I  have  had  two  happy 
days  in  my  life — one,  when  I  landed  with 
you  on  the  American  coast,  nearly  fifty 
years  ago,  and  to-day  when  I  see  your  face 
again.  I  have  lived  long  enough."  The 
sensation  produced  by  this  scene,  in  that 
great  throng,  was  for  a  time  completely 
overpowering. 

Not  less  interesting  was  the  interview, 
at  Buffalo,  between  Lafayette  and  'Red 
Jacket,'  the  old  chief  of  the  Seneca  tribe 
of  Indians.  They  had  both  met  in  council 
at  Fort  Schuyler,  in  1784.  Red  Jacket, 
in  conversation  with  General  Lafayette, 
made  some  allusions  to  that  famous  coun- 
cil, and  to  those  who  participated  in  its 
proceedings,  when  Lafayette  inquired  with 
some  curiosity — 

"Where  is  the  young  warrior,  I  wonder, 
who  opposed  the  burying  of  the  toma- 
hawk?" 

"He  is  here  before  you,"  instantly  re- 
plied the  aged  chief. 

"  Ah,  I  see,"  replied  the  general,  "  time 
has  changed  us.  We  were  once  young 
and  active." 

"  But,"  said  the  chief,  "  time  has  made 
less  change  on  you  than  on  me." 

Saying  this  he  uncovered  his  head,  and 
exhibited  his  entire  baldness.  The  gen- 
eral wore  a  wig,  and,  not  wishing  to 
deceive  Red  Jacket,  took  it  from  his  head, 
to  the  no  small  amusement  of  the  aston- 
ished Indian. 

A  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Washington  was 
one  of  the  most  notable  events  in  Lafay- 
ette's tour.  His  arrival  there  was  an- 
nounced by  the  firing  of  cannon,  which 
brought  to  his  memory  the  din  of  war, — 
the  scenes  of  the  revolution, —  when  he, 
with  the  great  but  now  lifeless  chieftain, 
were  si'Je  by  side  in  battle.  Standing  for 
awhil*  upon  the  consecrated  ground  and 


amidst  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  place, 
he  descended  alone  into  the  tomb  with  his 
head  uncovered.  There  he  remained  in 
solitary  contemplation  for  some  time — the 
living  aged  veteran  communing  with  the 
illustrious  dead.  He  returned  with  his 
face  bathed  in  tears,  and,  taking  his  son 
and  Levasseur,  the  secretary,  by  the  hand, 
led  them  into  the  tomb.  He  could  not 
speak,  but  pointed  mutely  to  the  coffin  of 
Washington.  They  knelt  reverently  by 
it,  kissed  it,  and,  rising,  threw  themselves 
into  the  arms  of  Lafayette,  and  for  a  few 
moments  wept  in  silence.  Lafayette  was 
now  presented,  by  the  hand  of  Mr.  Custis, 
one  of  the  surviving  family  connections  of 
Washington,  with  a  massive  finger-ring 
containing  a  portion  of  the  hair  of  his 
departed  friend.  He  was  also  the  recipi- 
ent of  some  other  personal  memorials  of 
the  "Father  of  his  Country." 

During  this  tour  Lafayette  visited  every 
one  of  the  twenty-four  states  of  the  Union, 
and  traveled  over  five  thousand  miles.  In 
nearly  every  region  which  he  visited, 
towns  or  counties,  and  literary,  scientific 
or  civic  associations,  named  in  honor  of 
him,  still  preserve  his  memory.  Indeed, 
one  of  the  foremost  of  the  great  colleges  of 
the  Middle  states  dates  from  the  same 
period.  At  Easton,  in  Pennsylvania, 
the  citizens  convened  on  the  27th  of 
December,  1824,  and  resolved  to  estab- 
lish LAFAYETTE  COLLEGE,  an  eminent 
institution  of  learning,  in  memory  of 
and  "as  a  testimony  of  respect  for  the 
talents,  virtues  and  signal  sevices,  of 
General  Lafayette,  in  the  great  cause  of 
Freedom." 

When  the  time  which  he  had  allotted 
for  his  tour  had  expired,  Lafayette  re- 
paired to  Washington,  to  pay  his  parting 
respects  to  the  chief  magistrate  of  the 
nation,  John  Quincy  Adams,  who  had  suc- 
ceeded President  Monroe.  This  took 
place  at  the  presidential  mansion,  on  the 
sixth  of  September,  1825.  The  farewell 
address  from  the  president,  in  behalf  of 
the  whole  American  people,  was  a  most 
affecting  tribute  to  the  lofty  character  and 
patriotic  services  of  Lafayette,  during  his 


VISIT  OF  LAFAYETTE  TO  AMERICA. 


195 


long  and  eventful  career,  and  closed  with 
the  following  words : 

"  You  are  ours  by  that  unshaken  senti- 
ment of  gratitude  for  your  services  which 
is  a  precious  portion  of  our  inheritance ; 
ours  by  that  tie  of  love,  stronger  than 
death,  which  has  linked  your  name  for  the 
endless  ages  of  time  with  the  name  of 
Washington.  At  the  painful  moment  of 


parting  with  you 
we  take  comfort 
in  the  thought 
that,  wherever  you  may  be,  to  the  last  pul- 
sation of  your  heart,  our  country  will  ever 
be  present  to  your  affections ;  and  a  cheer- 
ing consolation  assures  us  that  we  are  not 


called  to  sorrow  —  most  of  all,  that  we 
shall  see  your  face  no  more,  —  for  we 
shall  indulge  the  pleasing  anticipation 
of  beholding  our  friend  again.  In  the 
name  of  the  whole  people  of  the  United 
States,  I  bid  you  a  reluctant  and  affec- 
tionate farewell." 

To  this  parting  address  from  the  lips  of 
the  nation's  distinguished  chief  magistrate, 
Lafayette  replied  in  a  strain  of  patriotic 
and  impassioned  eloquence  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

On  the  same  day  he  embarked  for 
France,  on  board  the  Brandywine,  a  new 
frigate,  named 
thus  in  compli- 
ment to  Lafay- 
ette, who,  on  the 
banks  of  that  riv- 
er, was  wounded 
in  his  first  battle 
for  American 
freedom.  In  the 
whole  range  of 
history,  ancient 
or  modern,  there 
is  no  instance  of 

similar  honors  being  paid  to  any  hero,  by 
the  united  and  spontaneous  will  of  a  great 
people ;  and  when,  nine  years  after,  he  paid 
the  debt  of  nature,  that  same  great  people 
gave  vent  to  universal  grief,  and  every 
tongue  spoke  words  of  eulogy  to  the  mem- 
ory of  America's  most  illustrious  friend. 


XXIV. 

DUEL  BETWEEN  HENRY  CLAY,  SECRETARY  OF  STATE, 
AND  JOHN   RANDOLPH,  UNITED   STATES   SENA- 
TOR FROM  VIRGINIA.— 1826. 


Randolph's  Bitter  Insult  to  Clay  on  the  Floor  of  the  Senate. — Accuses  Him  of  Falsifying  an  Official 
Document. — The  Puritan  and  "  Blackieg  "  Taunt. — Clay  Challenges  the  Senator  to  Mortal  Com- 
bat.— Words  and  Acts  of  these  Two  Foremost  Men  of  their  Times,  on  the  "  Field  of  Honor." — 
Result  of  the  Hostile  Meeting. — Fame  of  these  Party  Leaders. — Ancient  Political  Antagonists. — 
Origin  of  the  Present  Dispute. — Randolph's  Gift  of  Sarcasm. — Applies  it  Severely  to  Clay. — Clay 
Demands  Satiifaction. — Reconciliation  Refused. — Bladensburg  the  Dueling-Ground. — Pistols  the 
Weapons  Chosen. — Colonel  Benton  a  Mutual  Friend. — Incidents  the  Night  Before. — Randolph'i 
Secret  Resolve — Going  to  the  Field  of  Blood. — View  of  this  Shrine  of  "  Chivalry." — Salutations  of 
the  Combatants.— Solemn  Interest  of  the,  Scene.— Distance  Ten  Paces.— A  Harmless  Exchange  of 
Shots.— Clay  Calls  it  "  Child's  Play !  "—Another  Fire.— No  Injury.—"  Honor  "  Satisfied.— Pleasant 
Talk  with  Each  Other. 


"  I  would  not  hare  seen  him  Ml  mortally,  or  even  doubtfully,  wounded,  for  all  the  land  that  i»  watered  by  the  King  of  Floods  aid  all 
fall  tributary  ttreamB."— RANDOLPH  TO  BKHTON. 

"I  trust  in  Ood,  my  dear  air,  you  are  untouched  i  after  what  has  occurred,!  -would  nothave  harmed  you  for  a  thousand  world*.'*— 
CLAT  TO  RANDOLPH 


T  would  be  needless,  at  this  point  of  time,  to  recount 
the  circumstances  of  that  long  and  bitter  antago- 
nism which  characterized  the  relations,  in  political 
life,  between  the  renowned  and  eccentric  John 
Randolph  and  the  equally  famous  and  brilliant 
Henry  Clay.  This  antagonism,  after  the  accession 
to  the  department  of  state  by  Mr.  Clay,  under  the 
presidency  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  acquired  addi- 
tional violence,  and  finally  led  to  a  hostile  encoun- 
ter, under  the  following  circumstances  :  The  presi- 
'  dent  had  sent  in  a  message  to  the  senate,  on  the 
subject  of  the  Panama  mission.  A  motion  was  made  in  the  senate  for  a  call  upon  the 
president  for  further  information.  In  response  to  this  the  president  answered  by  a 
message,  with  the  tone  of  which  Randolph  was  greatly  displeased,  and,  in  his  place  in 
the  senate,  bitterly  denounced  it  and  its  authors,  President  Adams  and  his  secretary, 
Mr.  Clay.  Alluding  to  one  passage  in  particular,  in  the  president's  message,  Randolph 
was  reported  as  saying  :  "Here  I  plant  my  foot;  here  I  fling  defiance  right  into  his 
teeth ;  here  I  throw  the  gauntlet  to  him,  and  the  bravest  of  his  compeers,  to  come 
forward  and  defend  these  lines."  And  he  concluded  his  speech  with  the  sentence  : 


PRELIMINARIES    OF  THE  "  CODE  OF  HOXOK. 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


197 


"Iwas  defeated,  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons 
— cut  up,  clean  broke  down  by  the  coali- 
tion of  Blifll  and  Black  George — by  the 
combination  unheard  of  till  then,  of  the 
Puritan  with  the  Blackleg"  But,  what 
was  most  pointed,  perhaps,  than  anything 
else,  in  this  assault  upon  Mr.  Clay's  honor, 
was  Randolph's  statement,  "  that  a  letter 
from  General  Salazar,  the  Mexican  min- 
ister at  Washington,  submitted  by  the 
executive  to  the  senate,  bore  the  ear-mark 
of  having  been  manufactured  or  forged  by 
the  secretary  of  state." 

Mr.  Clay  smarted  under  the  stigma  of 
these  charges.  He  demanded  explana- 
tions. These  being  refused,  Clay  at  once 
sent  a  challenge,  which  Randolph  accepted. 
The  seconds,  however,  chosen  by  the  dis- 
tinguished principals,  determined  to  at- 
tempt an  accommodation,  or  a  peaceable 
termination  of  the  difficulty.  But  Ran- 
dolph, though  modifying  the  unrevised 
and  somewhat  inaccurate  report  of  his 
speech  which  had  gone  forth,  refused  to 
explain,  out  of  the  senate,  the  words  he 
had  used  within  it.  Clay  was  peremptory 
with  Randolph,  on  the  point  of  honor,  as 
he  had  also  been  with  Humphrey  Mar- 
shall, in  1808,  whom  the  brilliant  Ken- 
tuckian  challenged  and  fought.  Though 
bad  enough,  both  personally  and  politically, 
these  duels  of  the  great  Kentuckian  will 
at  least  compare  favorably  with  the  later 
duel  between  Graves  of  Kentucky,  and 
Cilley  of  Maine,  in  which  Webb,  the  New 
York  journalist,  bore  so  prominent  a  part. 

It  being  certain  that  there  was  no  hope 
of  reconciliation,  the  seconds  proceeded  to 
arrange  for  the  duel.  The  afternoon  of 
Saturday,  April  eighth,  1826,  was  fixed 
upon  for  the  time, — the  right  bank  of  the 
Potomac,  within  the  state  of  Virginia, 
above  the  Little  Falls  bridge,  was  the 
place, — pistols  the  weapons,  distance  ten 
paces, — each  party  to  be  attended  by  two 
seconds  and  a  surgeon,  and  Senator  Ben- 
ton  to  be  present  as  a  mutual  friend. 
There  was  to  be  no  practicing  with  pistols, 
and  there  was  none ;  and  the  words,  '  One, 
two,  three, — stop,'  after  the  word  '  Fire,' 
were,  by  agreement  between  the  seconds 


and  for  the  humane  purpose  of  reducing 
the  result  as  near  as  possible  to  chance,  to 
be  given  out  in  quick  succession.  The 
Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac  was  taken, 
according  to  Mr.  Benton's  account  of  the 
duel,  at  the  instance  of  Mr.  Randolph. 
He  went  out  as  a  Virginia  senator,  refus- 
ing to  compromise  that  character,  and,  if 
he  fell  in  defense  of  what  he  deemed  to 
be  its  rights,  Virginia  soil  was  to  him  the 
chosen  ground  to  receive  his  blood.  There 
was  a  statute  of  the  state  against  dueling 
within  her  limits  ;  but  as  he  merely  went 
out  to  receive  a  fire  without  returning  it 
he  deemed  that  no  fighting,  and  conse- 
quently no  breach  of  her  statute. 

The  week's  delay,  which  the  seconds 
had  contrived,  was  about  expiring.  It  was 
Friday  night,  when  Mr.  Benton  went  to 
see  Mr.  Clay  for  the  last  time  before  the 
duel.  There  had  been  some  alienation 
between  the  two  since  the  time  of  the 
presidential  election  in  the  house  of  repre- 
sentatives, and  the  senator  desired  to  show 
Mr.  Clay  that  there  was  nothing  personal 
in  it.  The  family  (says  Mr.  Benton)  were 
in  the  parlor, —  company  present, —  and 
some  of  it  staid  late.  The  youngest  child 
went  to  sleep  on  the  sofa, — a  circumstance 
which  availed  me  for  the  next  day.  Mrs. 
Clay  was,  as  always  after  the  death  of  her 
daughters,  the  picture  of  desolation,  but 
calm,  conversable,  and  without  the  slight- 
est apparent  consciousness  of  the  impend- 
ing event.  When  all  were  gone,  and  she 
also  had  left  the  parlor,  I  did  what  I  came 
for,  and  said  to  Mr.  Clay  that,  notwith- 
standing our  late  political  differences,  my 
personal  feelings  were  the  same  towards 
him  as  formerly,  and  that,  in  whatever 
concerned  his  life  or  honor,  my  best  wishes 
were  with  him.  He  expressed  his  gratifi- 
cation at  the  visit  and  the  declaration,  and 
said  it  was  what  he  would  have  expected 
of  me.  We  parted  at  midnight. 

Mr.  Benton's  account  continues  as  fol- 
lows:  Saturday,  the  8th  of  April,  1826, 
— the  day  for  the  duel, — had  come,  and 
almost  the  hour.  It  was  noon,  and  the 
meeting  was  to  take  place  at  half-past  four 
o'clock.  I  had  gone  to  see  Mr.  Randolph 


198 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


before  the  hour,  and  for  a  purpose.  I  had 
heard  nothing  from  him  on  the  point  of 
not  returning  the  fire,  since  the  first  com- 
munication to  that  effect,  eight  days  be- 
fore. I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  steadi- 
ness of  his  determination ;  but  felt  a 
desire  to  have  some  fresh  assurance  of  it 
after  so  many  days'  delay,  and  so  near 
approach  of  the  trying  moment.  I  knew 
it  would  not  do  to  ask  him  the  question, — 
any  question  that  would  imply  a  doubt  of 
his  word.  So  I  fell  upon  a  scheme  to  get 
at  the  inquiry  without  seeming  to  make 
it.  I  told  him  of  my  visit  to  Mrs.  Clay 
the  night  before, — of  the  late  sitting, — the 
child  asleep, — the  unconscious  tranquillity 


of  Mrs.  Clay ;  and  added,  I  could  not  help 
reflecting  how  different  all  that  might  be 
the  next  night.  He  understood  me  per- 
fectly, and  immediately  said,  with  a 
quietude  of  look  and  expression  which 
seemed  to  rebuke  an  unworthy  doubt, — 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  to  disturb  the  sleep 
of  the  child  or  the  repose  of  the  mother." 

Mr.  Randolph  at  the  same  time  went 
on  with  his  employment  —  his  seconds 


being  engaged  in  their  preparations  in  a 
different  room, — which  was,  making  codi- 
cils to  his  will,  all  in  the  way  of  remem- 
brance to  friends ;  the  bequests  slight  in 
value,  but  invaluable  in  tenderness  of 
feeling  and  beauty  of  expression,  and 
always  appropriate  to  the  receiver.  To 
Mr.  Macon,  he  gave  some  English  shil- 
lings, to  keep  the  game  when  he  played 
whist.  His  namesake,  John  Randolph 
Bryan,  then  at  school  in  Baltimore,  and 
afterwards  married  to  his  niece,  was  sent 
for  to  see  him,  but  sent  off  before  the  hour 
for  going  out,  to  save  the  boy  from  a  pos- 
sible shock  of  seeing  him  brought  back. 
He  wanted  some  gold, — that  coin  not 
being  then  in  circulation,  and  only  to  be 
obtained  by  favor  or  purchase, — and  sent 
his  faithful  man,  Johnny,  to  the  United 
States  Branch  Bank,  to  get  a  few  pieces, — 
American  being  the  kind  asked  for. 
Johnny  returned  without  the  gold,  and 
delivered  the  excuse  that  the  bank  had 
none.  Instantly  his  clear  silver-toned 
voice  was  heard  above  its  natural  pitch, 
exclaiming :  "  Their  name  is  legion  !  and 
they  are  liars  from  the  beginning.  Johnny, 
bring  me  my  horse."  His  own  saddle- 
horse  was  brought  him,  for  he  never  rode 
Johnny's,  nor  Johnny  his,  though  both, 
and  all  his  hundred  horses,  were  of  the 
finest  English  blood ;  and  he  rode  off  to 
the  bank,  down  Pennsylvania  avenue, 
Johnny  following,  as  always,  forty  paces 
behind.  Arrived  at  the  bank,  the  follow- 
ing scene  transpired.  Mr.  Randolph  asked 
for  the  state  of  his  account,  was  shown  it, 
and  found  it  to  be  some  four  thousand  dol- 
lars in  his  favor.  He  asked  for  it.  The 
teller  took  up  packages  of  bills,  and  civilly 
asked  in  what  sized  notes  he  would  have 
it.  "  I  want  money,"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
putting  emphasis  on  the  word ;  and  at  that 
time  it  required  a  bold  man  to  intimate 
that  United  States  Bank  notes  were  not 
money.  The  teller,  beginning  to  under- 
stand him,  and  willing  to  make  sure,  said, 
inquiringly  : 

"You  want  silver?" 

"  1  want  my  money"  was  the  reply. 

"Have   you   a   cart,  Mr.  Randolph,  to 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  KANDOLPH. 


199 


put  it  in  ?  "  said  the  teller,  politely,  lifting 
boxes  to  the  counter. 

"  That  is  my  business,  sir,"  answered 
Randolph. 

By  this  time,  the  attention  of  the  cashier 
was  attracted  to  what  was  going  on,  who 
came  up,  and,  understanding  the  question 
and  its  cause,  told  Mr.  Randolph  there 
was  a  mistake  in  the  answer  given  to  his 
servant ;  that  they  had  gold,  and  he  should 
have  what  he  wanted.  In  fact,  he  had 
only  applied  for  a  few  pieces,  which  he 
wanted  for  a  special  purpose.  This  brought 
about  a  compromise.  The  pieces  of  gold 
were  received,  —  the  cart  and  the  silver 
dispensed  with. 

On  returning,  Randolph  handed  a  sealed 
paper  to  Mr.  Benton,  which  the  latter  was 
to  open  in  case  Randolph  was  killed, — 
give  back  to  him  if  he  was  not ;  also 
an  open  slip,  which  that  senator  was  to 
read  before  he  got  to  the  ground.  This 
slip  was  a  request  to  feel  in  his  left 
breeches'  pocket,  if  he  was  killed,  and  find 
so  many  pieces  of  gold, — Mr.  Benton  to 
take  three  for  himself,  and  give  the  same 
number  to  Tatnall  and  Hamilton  each,  to 
make  seals  to  wear  in  remembrance  of  him. 
He  also  remembered  his  friend  Macon. 
They  were  all  three  at  Mr.  Randolph's 
lodgings,  then,  and  soon  set  out, — Mr. 
Randolph  and  his  seconds  in  a  carriage, 
and  Mr.  Benton  following  him  on  horse- 
back. 

As  has  already  been  stated,  the  count 
was  to  be  quick  after  giving  the  word  '  Fire,' 
and  for  a  reason  which  could  not  be  told 
to  the  principals.  To  Mr.  Randolph,  who 
did  not  mean  to  fire,  and  who,  though 
agreeing  to  be  shot  at,  had  no  desire  to  be 
hit,  this  rapidity  of  counting  out  the  time, 
and  quick  arrival  of  the  command  '  Stop,' 
presented  no  objection.  With  Mr.  Clay 
it  was  different.  With  him  it  was  all  a 
real  transaction,  and  gave  rise  to  some 
proposal  for  more  deliberateness  in  count- 
ing off  the  time,  which  being  communicated 
to  Colonel  Tatnall,  (Randolph's  friend,) 
and  by  him  to  Mr.  Randolph,  had  an  ill 
effect  upon  his  feelings,  and,  aided  by  an 
untoward  accident  on  the  ground,  unset- 


tled for  a  moment  the  noble  determination 
which  he  had  formed  not  to  fire  at  Mr. 
Clay.  General  Jesup  (Clay's  friend,) 
states,  that,  when  he  repeated  to  Mr.  Clay 
the  'word'  in  the  manner  in  which  it 
would  be  given,  Mr.  Clay  expressed  some 
apprehension  that,  as  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  use  of  the  pistol,  he  might 
not  be  able  to  fire  within  the  time,  and 
for  that  reason  alone  desired  that  it  might 
be  prolonged.  This  desire  of  Mr.  Clay 
was  mentioned,  on  his  behalf,  to  Colonel 
Tatnall,  who  replied,  "If  you  insist  upon 
it,  the  time  must  be  prolonged,  but  I  should 
very  much  regret  it."  The  original  agree- 
ment was  carried  out.  Mr.  Benton,  how- 
ever, states  that  he  himself  knew  nothing 
of  all  this,  until  it  was  too  late  to  speak 
with  the  seconds  or  principals,  he  having 
crossed  the  Little  Falls  bridge  just  after 
them,  and  come  to  the  place  where  the  serv- 
ants and  carriages  had  stopped.  He  saw 
none  of  the  gentlemen,  and  supposed  they 
had  all  gone  to  the  spot  where  the  ground 
was  being  marked  off;  but  on  speaking  to 
Johnny,  Mr.  Randolph,  who  was  still  in 
his  carriage,  and  heard  the  voice,  looked 
out  from  the  window  and  said  to  Colonel 
Benton — 

"  Colonel,  since  I  saw  you,  and  since  I 
have  been  in  this  carriage,  I  have  heard 
something  which  may  make  me  change 
my  determination.  Colonel  Hamilton  will 
give  you  a  note  which  will  explain  it." 

Colonel  Hamilton  was  then  in  the  car- 
riage, and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
gave  to  Colonel  Benton  the  note,  of  which 
Mr.  Randolph  spoke.  Colonel  Benton 
readily  comprehended  that  this  possible 
change  of  determination  related  to  Ran- 
dolph's firing ;  but  the  emphasis  with 
which  he  pronounced  the  word  '  may' 
clearly  showed  that  his  mind  was  unde- 
cided, and  left  it  doubtful  whether  he 
would  fire  or  not.  No  further  conversa- 
tion, however,  took  place  between  them — 
the  preparations  for  the  duel  were  finished 
— the  parties  went  to  their  places. 

The  place  was  a  thick  forest,  and  the 
immediate  spot  a  little  depression,  or 
basin,  in  which  the  parties  stood.  Not 


200 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


far  west  of  Bladensburg,  just  beyond  the 
line  which  separates  the  federal  city  from 
the  state  of  Maryland,  a  short  distance  off 
the  road  from  Washington,  is  this  dueling- 
ground, — a  dingle,  embosomed  in  a  sun- 
burnt amphitheatre  of  trees,  secluded,  and 
from  associations,  no  less  than  location,  a 
dismal  shrine,  consecrated  to  human  sacri- 
fices. On  this  spot,  not  long  before  the 
battle  of  Bladenoburg  in  the  second  war 
with  England,  a  United  States  secretary 
of  the  treasury  shot  his  antagonist,  Mr. 
Gardenier,  through  the  body,  both  mem- 
bers of  congress,  in  a  party  duel.  Deca- 
tur,  surrounded  by  brother  naval  officers, 
fell  there.  A  senator  of  the  United  States 
lost  his  life  there,  horribly  fighting  with 
muskets  at  pistol  distance.  Other  vic- 
tims to  the  vanity  of  honor,  so  called,  have 
lost  or  staked  their  lives  on  this  field  of 
blood. 

But  never  before,  on  that  fatal  field, 
was  any  scene  enacted,  comparable  with 
that  which  was  to  witness  a  mortal  con- 
test between  Henry  Clay  and  John  Ran- 
dolph. Not  too  highlj'  lias  the  graphic 
delineator  of  these  dramatis  personal  (Mr. 
Baldwin,  in  his  "Party  Leaders,")  drawn 
the  picture,  in  saying  that  there  stood  on 
the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  on  that  bright 
April  evening,  as  the  sun  was  declining 
behind  the  high  hills  of  Virginia,  in  the 
attitude  of  combatants,  two  men,  around 
whom  gathered,  probably,  a  more  stirring 
interest,  than  around  any  other  two  men 
in  the  Union.  And  yet,  their  political 
opinions  and  personal  history  were  as 
opposite  as  their  persons,  when  they  stood 
in  their  places.  Against  any  and  all 
insinuations  of  corruption,  Mr.  Clay  might 
safely  have  left  his  reputation  with  the 
people.  His  splendid  services  as  peace 
commissioner  to  Europe,  with  such  col- 
leagues as  Bayard,  Gallatin,  Russell  and 
Adams  ;  his  long  period  of  statesman-like 
service  in  the  house  of  representatives, 
succeeding  repeatedly  to  the  chair  that 
had  been  dignified  by  Muhlenberg,  Trum- 
bull,  Dayton,  Varnum,  Cheves,  and  Bar- 
bour, — this  his  record  should  havo  suf- 
ficed for  his  honor. 


The  two  were  alike  only  in  chivalry  of 
bearing,  integrity  and  independence  •  of 
character,  genius  and  pride.  They  had 
to  all  appearance  met  now  to  fight  to  the 
death  with  physical  weapons,  as  they  had 
met  so  often  before,  to  do  battle  with  the 
weapons  of  intellectual  warfare.  Their 
opposition  had  been  unceasing.  Each 
looked  upon  the  other  as,  if  not  the  ablest, 
at  least  as  the  most  annoying  and  dreaded 
opponent  of  his  political  principles  and 
personal  aims.  They  were,  in  early  life, 
and  to  some  extent,  still,  representatives 


of  different  phases  of  American  society. 
Randolph,  born  to  affluence  ;  descended 
from  a  long  and  honored  line  ;  accustomed 
always  to  wealth,  family  influence,  and  the 
pride  of  aristocracy  and  official  position. 
Clay,  on  the  other  hand,  born  in  obscurity, 
of  humble  parentage — the  first  man  of  his 
family  known  out  of  his  county — "the 
mill-boy  of  the  Slashes ;  "  but  winning 
his  way  and  rising  rapidly,  by  his  boldness 
and  talents,  to  the  very  summit  of  public 
station  and  influence,  so  as  to  be  styled 
the  "Great  Commoner;" — these  were  the 
two  men,  alike  in  splendid  gifts  of  intel- 
lect, yet  so  unlike  in  character  and  circum- 
stance, who  now,  weapon  in  hand,  stood 
opposed  in  deadly  conflict. 

As  they  took  their  stands,  the  princi- 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


201 


pala  saluted  each  other  courteously,  accord- 
ing to  the  usage  of  the  'code.'  Colonel 
Tatnall  had  won  the  choice  of  position, 
which  gave  to  General  Jesup  the  delivery 
of  the  word.  They  stood  on  a  line  east 
and  west ;  there  was  a  small  stump  just 
behind  Mr.  Clay,  and  a  low  gravelly  bank 
rose  just  behind  Mr.  Randolph.  The 
latter  asked  General  Jesup  to  repeat  the 
word  as  he  would  give  it ;  and  while  in 
the  act  of  doing  so,  and  Mr.  Randolph 
adjusting  the  butt  of  his  pistol  to  his 
hand,  the  muzzle  pointing  downwards,  and 
almost  to  the  ground,  it  fired.  Instantly 
Mr.  Randolph  turned  to  Colonel  Tatnall, 
and  said,  "  I  protested  against  that  hair 
trigger." 

Colonel  Tatnall  took  blame  to  himself 
for  having  sprung  the  hair.  Mr.  Clay 
had  not  then  received  his  pistol.  Mr. 
Johnson,  one  of  his  seconds,  was  carrying 
it  to  him,  and  still  several  steps  from  him. 
This  untimely  fire,  though  clearly  an  acci- 
dent, necessarily  gave  rise  to  some  re- 
marks, and  a  species  of  inquiry,  which 
was  conducted  with  the  utmost  delicacy, 
but  which,  in  itself,  was  of  a  nature  to  be 
inexpressibly  painful  to  a  gentleman's 
feelings.  Mr.  Clay  stopped  it  with  the 
generous  remark  that  the  fire  was  clearly 
an  accident,  and  it  was  so  unanimously 
declared.  Another  pistol  was  immediately 
furnished ;  an  exchange  of  shots  took 
place,  and,  happily,  without  effect  upon 
the  persons.  Mr.  Randolph's  bullet  struck 
the  stump  behind  Mr.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Clay's 
knocked  up  the  earth  and  gravel  behind 
Mr.  Randolph,  and  in  a  line  with  the  level 
of  his  hips,  both  bullets  having  gone  so 
true  and  close,  that  it  was  a  marvel  how 
they  missed. 

The  moment  had  now  arrived  when 
Colonel  Benton  felt  that  he  could  inter- 
pose. He  accordingly  went  in  among  the 
parties,  and  offered  his  mediation.  Noth- 
ing, however,  could  be  done.  Mr.  Clay 
said,  with  that  wave  of  the  hand  with 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  put  away  a 
trifle,  "  This  is  child's  play ! "  and  required 
another  fire.  Mr.  Randolph  also  demanded 
Another  fire.  The  seconds  were  directed 


to  reload.  While  this  was  doing,  Colonel 
Benton  prevailed  on  Mr.  Randolph  to 
walk  away  from  his  post,  and  importuned 
him,  more  pressingly  than  ever,  to  yield  to 
some  accommodation.  The  colonel  found 
him,  however,  more  determined  than  ever 
before,  and  for  the  first  time  impatient, 
and  seemingly  annoyed  and  dissatisfied  at 
such  approaches.  The  accidental  fire  of 
his  pistol  preyed  upon  his  feelings.  He 
was  doubly  chagrined  at  it,  both  as  a  cir- 
cumstance susceptible  in  itself  of  an  unfair 
interpretation,  and  as  having  been  the 
immediate  and  controlling  cause  of  his  fir- 
ing at  Mr.  Clay.  He  regretted  this  fire 
the  instant  it  was  over.  He  felt  that  it 
had  subjected  him  to  imputations  from 
which  he  knew  himself  to  be  free, —  a 
desire  to  kill  Mr.  Clay,  and  a  contempt  for 
the  laws  of  his  state ;  and  the  annoyances 
which  he  felt  at  these  vexatious  circum- 
stances revived  his  original  determination, 
and  decided  him  irrevocably  to  carry  it 
out. 

It  was  in  this  interval  that  Mr.  Ran- 
dolph told  Colonel  Benton  what  he  had 
heard  since  they  parted,  and  to  which  he 
alluded  when  speaking  from  the  window 
of  the  carriage.  It  was  to  this  effect : 
that  he  had  been  informed  by  Colonel 
Tatnall,  that  it  was  proposed  to  give  out 
the  words  with  more  deliberateness,  so  as 
to  prolong  the  time  for  taking  aim.  This 
information  grated  harshly  upon  his 
feelings.  It  unsettled  his  purpose, 
and  brought  his  mind  to  the  inquiry 
expressed  in  the  following  note,  which 
he  had  immediately  written  in  pencil, 
to  apprise  Colonel  Benton  of  his  possible 
change : 

"  Information  received  from  Colonel 
Tatnall  since  I  got  into  the  carriage  may 
induce  me  to  change  my  mind  of  not 
returning  Mr.  Clay's  fire.  I  seek  not  his 
death.  I  would  not  have  his  blood  upon 
my  hands — it  will  not  be  upon  my  soul  if 
shed  in  self-defense — for  the  world.  He 
has  determined,  by  the  use  of  a  long,  pre- 
paratory caution  by  wordsj  to  get  time  to 
kill  me.  May  I  not,  then,  disable  him  ? 
Yes,  if  I  please." 


202 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


According  to  the  statement  of  General 
Jesup,  already  given,  this  '  information ' 
was  a  misapprehension,  Mr.  Clay  not  hav- 
ing applied  for  a  prolongation  of  time  for 
the  purpose  of  getting  sure  aim,  but  only 
to  enable  his  unused  hand,  long  unfa- 
miliar with  the  pistol,  to  fire  within  the 
limited  time.  There  was  no  prolongation, 
in  fact,  either  granted  or  insisted  upon; 
but  Mr.  Randolph  was  in  doubt,  and  Gen- 
eral Jesup  having  won  the  word,  he  was 
having  him  repeat  it  in  the  way  he  was 
to  give  it  out,  when  his  finger  touched  the 
hair  trigger.  The  inquiry,  'May  I  not 
disable  him?'  was  still  on  Mr.  Randolph's 
mind,  and  dependent  for  its  solution  on 
the  rising  incidents  of  the  moment,  when 
the  accidental  fire  of  his  pistol,  gave  the 
torn  to  his  feelings  which  solved  the 


was  to  disable  him,  and  spoil  his  aim. 
And  then  he  added,  with  the  deepest  feel- 
ing— 

"  /  would  not  have  seen  him  fall  mor- 
tally, or  even  doubtfully,  wounded,  for  all 
the  land  that  is  watered  by  the  King  of 
Floods  and  all  his  tributary  streams." 

Saying  this,  Mr.  Randolph  left  Colonel 
Benton  to  resume  his  post,  utterly  refusing 
te  explain  out  of  the  senate  anything  that 
he  had  said  in  it,  and  with  the  positive 
declaration  that  he  would  not  return  the 
next  fire.  Colonel  Benton  concludes  his 
reminiscences  of  this  most  remarkable 
affair,  as  follows:  I  withdrew  a  little  way 
into  the  woods,  and  kept  my  eyes  fixed 
upon  Mr.  Randolph,  whom  I  then  knew  to 
be  the  only  one  in  danger.  I  saw  him 
receive  the  fire  of  Mr.  Clay,  saw  the 


'"-^ 

DUELING-GROUND  AT    BLADENSBURG. 


N^V 


doubt.  But  he  afterwards  declared  to 
Colonel  Benton,  that  he  had  not  aimed  at 
the  life  of  Mr.  Clay  ;  that  he  did  not  level 
as  high  as  the  knee — not  higher  than  the 
knee-band,  '  for  it  was  no  mercy  to  shoot 
a  man  in  the  knee ; '  that  his  only  object 


gravel  knocked  up  in  the  same  place,  saw 
Mr.  Randolph  raise  his  pistol, — discharge 
it  into  the  air, — heard  him  say,  "  I  do  not 
fire  at  you,  Mr.  Clay" — and  immediately 
advancing,  and  offering  his  hand.  He 
was  met  in  the  same  spirit.  They  met 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


203 


half-way,  shook  hands,  Mr.  Randolph  say- 
ing jocosely,  "  You  owe  me  a  coat,  Mr. 
Clay," — (the  bullet  had  passed  through 
the  skirt  of  the  coat,  very  near  the  hip) 
— to  which  Mr.  Clay  promptly  and  hap- 
pily replied,  "  /  am  glad  the  debt  is  no 
greater."  I  had  come  up,  and  was  prompt 
to  proclaim  what  I  had  been  obliged  to 
keep  secret  for  eight  days.  The  joy  of  all 
was  extreme  at  this  happy  termination  of 
a  most  critical  affair,  and  we  immediately 
left,  with  lighter  hearts  than  we  brought. 
I  stopped  to  sup  with  Mr.  Randolph  and 
his  friends, — none  of  us  wanted  dinner, — 
and  had  a  characteristic  time  of  it.  A 
runner  came  in  from  the  bank,  to  say  that 
they  had  overpaid  him,  by  mistake,  one 
hundred  and  thirty  dollars  that  day.  Mr. 
Randolph  answered,  "  I  believe  it  is  your 
rule  not  to  correct  mistakes,  except  at  the 
time  and  at  your  counter."  And  with 
that  answer  the  runner  had  to  return. 
"When  gone,  Mr.  Randolph  said,  "  I  will 
pay  it  on  Monday  ;  people  must  be  honest, 
if  banks  are  not."  He  asked  for  the 
sealed  paper  he  had  given  me,  opened  it, 
took  out  a  check  for  one  thousand  dollars, 
drawn  in  my  favor,  and  with  which  I  was 
requested  to  have  him  carried,  if  killed,  to 
Virginia,  and  buried  under  his  patri- 
monial oaks, — not  let  him  be  buried  at 
Washington,  with  an  hundred  hacks  after 
him.  He  took  the  gold  from  his  left 
breeches  pocket,  and  said  to  as  (Hamil- 
ton, Tatnall,  and  I), — 

"  Gentlemen,  Clay's  bad  shooting  shan't 
rob  you  of  your  seals.  I  am  going  to 
London,  and  will  have  them  made  for 
you." 

This  he  did  (says  Colonel  Benton),  and 
most  characteristically,  so  far  as  mine  was 
concerned.  He  went  to  the  heraldry  office 
in  London,  and  inquired  for  the  Benton 
family,  of  which  I  had  often  told  him 
there  was  none,  as  we  only  dated  on  that 
side  from  my  grandfather  in  North  Caro- 
lina. But  the  name  was  found,  and  with 
it  a  coat  of  arms, — among  the  quarterings 
a  lion  rampant.  "This  is  the  family," 
said  he ;  and  had  the  arms  engraved  on 
the  seal. 


The  account  given  by  General  James 
Hamilton,  of  this  duel,  states  that,  in 
company  with  Colonel  Tatnall,  he  repaired, 
at  midnight,  to  Mr.  Randolph's  lodgings, 
and  found  him  reading  Milton's  great 
poem.  For  some  moments  he  did  not  per- 
mit them  to  say  one  word  in  relation  to 
the  approaching  duel,  for  he  at  once  com- 
menced one  of  those  delightful  criticisms 
on  a  passage  of  this  poet,  in  which  he  was 
wont  so  enthusiastically  to  indulge.  After 
a  pause,  Colonel  Tatnall  remarked  : 

"Mr.  Randolph,  I  am  told  you  have 
determined  not  to  return  Mr.  Clay's  fire ; 
I  must  say  to  you,  my  dear  sir,  if  I  am 
only  to  go  out  to  see  you  shot  down,  you 
must  find  some  other  friend." 

"Well,  Tatnall,"  said  Mr.  Randolph, 
after  much  conversation  on  the  subject,  "  I 
promise  you  cfne  thing  ;  if  I  see  the  devil 
in  Clay's  eye,  and  that,  with  malice  pre- 
pense, he  means  to  take  my  life,  I  may 
change  my  mind." 

As  the  sequel  showed,  however,  he  saw 
no  '  devil  in  Clay's  eye,'  but  a  man  fear- 
less, and  expressing  the  mingled  sensi- 
bility and  firmness  pertaining  to  the 
occasion.  For,  whilst  Tatnall  was  load- 
ing Mr.  Randolph's  pistol,  Hamilton  ap- 
proached Randolph,  took  his  hand, — in 
the  touch  of  which  there  was  not  the 
quivering  of  one  pulsation, — and  then, 
turning  to  Hamilton,  Randolph  said: 

"  Clay  is  calm,  but  not  vindictive ;  I 
hold  my  purpose,  Hamilton,  in  any  event ; 
remember  this." 

On  Randolph's  pistol  going  off  without 
the  word,  General  Jesup,  Mr.  Clay's 
friend,  called  out  that  he  would  instantly 
leave  the  ground  with  his  friend,  if  that 
occurred  again.  On  the  word  being 
given,  Mr.  Clay  fired  without  effect,  Mr. 
Randolph  discharging  his  pistol  in  the 
air.  On  seeing  this,  Mr.  Clay  instantly 
approached  Mr.  Randolph,  and  with  a  gush 
of  the  deepest  emotion,  said, — 

"  I  trust  in  God,  my  dear  sir,  you  are 
untouched;  after  what  has  occurred,  I 
would  not  have  harmed  you  for  a  thott- 
sand  worlds  /" 

On  the  ensuing  Monday,  Mr.  Clay  and 


204 


DUEL  BETWEEN  CLAY  AND  RANDOLPH. 


Mr.  Randolph  formally  exchanged  cards, 
and  their  relations  of  amity  and  courtesy 
were  restored. 

Many  of  Mr.  Clay's  warmest  political 
friends,  at  the  north  and  west,  deeply 
regretted  that  he  should  resort  to  what 
they  deemed  so  immoral  and  barbarous 
a  mode  of  vindicating  his  character,  as 
that  of  the  duello.  But  this  was  soon 
forgotten,  and  his  political  career  continued 
to  be  one  of  great  brilliancy  and  power. 
He  soon  succeeded  General  John  Adair, 
as  senator  from  Kentucky ;  and  again,  in 
1831,  was  elected  over  Richard  M.  John- 
son, to  the  same  high  nost.  He  was  dis- 


appointed, however,  in  his  aspirations  for 
the  presidency,  though  great  enthusiasm 
was  manifested  for  the  ticket  which,  in 
1831,  bore  his  name  at  its  head,  with  John 
Sergeant  for  vice-president.  The  other 
political  duels  which  have  excited  great 
interest  in  the  public  mind,  during  the 
century,  were  those  of  Lee  and  Laurens, 
Cadwallader  and  Conway,  Guinnett  and 
Mc'Intosh,  Hamilton  and  Burr,  DeWitt 
Clinton  and  Swartwout,  Cilley  and  Graves, 
Broderick  and  Terry.  General  Jackson 
and  Colonel  Benton  were  also  parties  to 
several  duels,  the  former  killing  Mr. 
Dickinson,  and  the  latter  a  Mr.  Lucas. 


XXV. 

THE    "GREAT   DEBATE"    BETWEEN   WEBSTER   AND 
HAYNE,  IN  CONGRESS— 1830. 


Vital  Constitutional  Issues  Discussed  —Unsurpassed  Power  and  Splendor  of  Senatorial  Eloquence. — 
Webster's  Speech  Acknowledged  to  be  the  Grandest  Forensic  Achievement  in  the  Whole  Range  of 
Modern  Parliamentary  Efforts.— Golden  Age  of  American  Oratory.— TJnprec"rl°nted  Interest  and 
Excitement  Produced  in  the  Public  Mind. — No  American  Debate  Comparable  with  This. — Known  as 
the  "Battle  of  the  Giants  " — Inflamed  Feeling  at  the  South. — Hayne's  Brilliant  Championship. — His 
Speech  Against  the  North. — Profound  Impression  Created — Its  Dash,  Assurance,  Severity — Bitter 
and  Sweeping  Charges. — His  Opponents  Wonder-Struck. — Webster  has  the  Floor  to  Reply. — An 
Ever-Memorable  Day. — Intense  Anxiety  to  Hear  Him. — Magnificent  Personal  Appearance. — His 
Exordium,  all  Hearts  Enchained. — Immense  Intellectual  Range  — Copious  and  Crushing  Logic. — 
Accumulative  Grandeur  of  Thought. — Thrilling  Apostrophe  to  the  Union. — The  Serious,  Comic, 
Pathetic,  etc. — Hayne's  Argument  Demolished. — Reception  Accorded  the  Speech. — Rival  Orators; 
Pleasant  Courtesies. 


"  It  has  been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  ab>st  apeechea  of  the  greatest  living  orators  on  both  aides  of  the  water,  but  I  mnat  confest  I 
IT  heard  anything  which  so  completely  realized  my  conception  of  what  Demosthenes  was  when  he  delivered  the  Oration  for  the  Crown.*1 


HE  remark  made  by  a  distinguished  public  man, 
that  to  have  heard  the  great  national  debate  in  the 
senate  of  the  United  States,  between  Webster  of 
Massachusetts  and  Hayne  of  South  Carolina,  "con- 
stituted an  era  in  a  man's  life,"  is  an  expression 
worthy  of  being  expanded  into  the  far  more  com- 
mensurate statement  that  the  debate  in  question 
constituted  an  era  of  far-reaching  influence  and 
importance,  in  the  political  history  of  the  nation. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  greatest  forensic  exhibition  this 

THE  VICTOR'S  -WREATH.  country  has  ever  witnessed,   and,  though    nearly 

half  a  century  has  elapsed  since  its  occurrence,  and  the  immediate  participants  and 
their  official  contemporaries  have,  almost  all  of  them,  long  since  passed  to  the  sphere  of 
another  existence,  the  occasion  still  furnishes,  and  will  continue  to  furnish  to  future 
generations,  one  of  the  most  instructive  chapters  in  the  annals  of  national  affairs.  Well 
has  the  debate  been  called  '  the  battle  of  the  giants' 

Fortunately  for  those  who  would  wish,  in  after  time,  to  inform  themselves  with  ref- 
erence to  the  principles  involved  and  the  chief  actors  engaged  in  this  great  debate, 


206 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


th»  memorials  of  the  occasion  furnished 
by  Mr.  March,  and,  subsequently,  by  Mr. 
Lanman,  Dr.  Tefft,  Louis  Gaylord  Clark, 
Edward  Everett,  and  others,  leave  nothing 
to  be  supplied.  Mr.  March's  notes  are 
adopted  by  Mr.  Everett,  in  his  memoirs  of 
Mr.  Webster,  and,  in  an  abridged  form, 
are  given  below,  in  connection  with  the 
perspicuous  statements  of  Tefft  and  others 
relating  to  the  general  issue.  The  speech 
was  also  reported  by  Mr.  Joseph  Gales, 
at  the  request  of  Judge  Burnett,  of  Ohio, 
and  other  senators.  On  canvas,  too,  Hea- 
ley,  the  master-painter,  has  commem- 
orated in  an  enduring  manner,  the  orator 
and  the  occasion. 

The  subject  of  discussion  before  the 
senate,  in  the  persons  of  these  two  intel- 
lectual gladiators,  grew  out  of  a  resolution 
brought  forward  by  Senator  Foot,  of  Con- 
necticut, just  at  the  close  of  the  previous 
year,  with  a  view  to  some  arrangement 
concerning  the  sale  of  the  public  lands. 
But  this  immediate  question  was  soon  lost 
sight  of  in  the  discussion  of  a  great,  vital 
principle  of  constitutional  law,  namely : 
the  relative  powers  of  the  states  and  the 
national  government.  Upon  this,  Mr. 
Benton  and  Mr.  Hayne  addressed  the 
senate,  condemning  the  policy  of  the  east- 
ern states,  as  illiberal  toward  the  west. 
Mr.  Webster  replied,  in  vindication  of 
New  England  and  of  the  policy  of  the 
government.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  Hayne 
made  his  attack — sudden,  unexpected,  and 
certainly  unexampled, — on  Mr.  Webster 
personally,  upon  Massachusetts  and  the 
other  northern  states  politically,  and  upon 
the  constitution  itself;  in  respect  to  the 
latter,  Mr.  Hayne  taking  the  position,  that 
it  is  constitutional  to  interrupt  the  admin- 
istration of  the  constitution  itself,  in  the 
hands  of  those  who  are  chosen  and  sworn 
to  administer  it,  by  the  direct  interference, 
in  form  of  law,  of  the  states,  in  virtue  of 
their  sovereign  capacity.  All  of  these 
points  were  handled  by  Mr.  Hayne  with 
that  rhetorical  brilliancy  and  power  which 
characterized  him  as  the  oratorical  cham- 
pion of  the  south,  on  the  floor  of  the 
senate ;  and  it  is  not  saying  too  much, 


that  the  speech  produced  a  profound  im- 
pression. 

Mr.  Hayne's  great  effort  appeared  to  be 
the  result  of  premeditation,  concert  and 
arrangement.  He  selected  his  own  time, 
and  that,  too,  peculiarly  inconvenient  to 
Mr.  Webster,  for,  at  that  moment,  the 
supreme  court  were  proceeding  in  the 
hearing  of  a  cause  of  great  importance,  in 
wRich  he  was  a  leading  counsel.  For  this 
reason,  he  requested,  through  a  friend,  a 
postponement  of  the  debate;  Mr.  Hayne 
objected,  however,  and  the  request  was 
refused.  The  time,  the  matter,  and  the 
manner,  indicated  that  the  attack  was 
made  with  a  design  to  crush  so  formidable 
a  political  opponent  as  Mr.  Webster  had 
become.  To  this  end,  personal  history, 
the  annals  of  New  England  and  of  the 
federal  party,  were  ransacked  for  materi- 
als. It  was  attempted,  with  the  usual 
partisan  unfairness  of  political  harangues, 
to  make  him  responsible,  not  only  fry*  what 
was  his  own,  but  for  the  conduct  and  opin- 
ions of  others.  All  the  errors  and  delin- 
quencies, real  or  supposed,  of  Massachu- 
setts, and  the  eastern  states,  and  of  the 
federal  party,  during  the  war  of  1812,  and, 
indeed,  prior  and  subsequent  to  that 
period,  were  accumulated  upon  him. 

Thus  it  was,  that  Mr.  Hayne  heralded 
his  speech  with  a  bold  declaration  of  war, 
with  taunts  and  threats,  vaunting  antici- 
pated triumph,  as  if  to  paralyze  by  intimi- 
dation; saying  that  he  would  carry  the 
war  into  Africa,  until  he  had  obtained 
indemnity  for  the  past  and  security  for  the 
future.  It  was  supposed  that,  as  a  distin- 
guished representative  man,  Mr.  Webster 
would  be  driven  to  defend  what  was  inde- 
fensible, and  to  uphold  what  could  not  be 
sustained,  and,  as  a  federalist,  to  oppose 
the  popular  resolutions  of  '98. 

The  severe  nature  of  Mr.  Hayne's 
charges,  the  ability  with  which  he  brought 
them  to  bear  upon  his  opponents,  his  great 
reputation  as  a  brilliant  and  powerful 
declaimer,  filled  the  minds  of  his  friends 
with  anticipations  of  complete  triumph. 
For  two  days,  Mr.  Hayne  had  the  control 
of  the  floor.  The  vehemence  of  his  Ian- 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


207 


guage  and  the  earnestness  of  his  manner 
gave  added  force  to  the  excitement  of  the 
occasion.  So  fluent  and  melodious  was  his 
elocution,  that  his  cause  naturally  begat 
sympathy.  No  one  had  time  to  deliberate 
upon  his  rapid  words,  or  canvass  his  sweep- 
ing and  accumulated  statements.  The 
dashing  nature  of  the  onset;  the  assurance, 
almost  insolence,  of  its  tone;  the  serious 
character  and  apparent  truth  of  the  accu- 
sations, confounded  almost  every  hearer. 
The  immediate  impression  from  the  speech 
was  most  assuredly  disheartening  to  the 
cause  Mr.  Webster  upheld.  Congratula- 
tions from  almost  every  quarter  were  show- 
ered upon  the  speaker.  Mr.  Benton  said, 
in  the  full  senate,  that  much  as  Mr.  Hayne 
had  done  before  to  establish  his  reputation 
as  an  orator,  a  statesman,  a  patriot,  and  a 
gallant  son  of  the  south,  the  efforts  of  that 
day  would  eclipse  and  surpass  the  whole. 
Indeed,  the  speech  was  extolled  as  the 
greatest  effort  of  the  time,  or  of  other 
times, — neither  Chatham,  nor  Burke,  nor 
Fox,  had  surpassed  it,  in  their  palmiest 
days. 

Satisfaction,  however,  with  the  speech, 
even  among  the  friends  of  the  orator,  was 
not  unanimous.  Some  of  the  senators 
knew,  for  they  had  felt,  Mr.  Webster's 
power.  They  knew  the  great  resources  of 
his  mind;  the  immense  range  of  his  intel- 
lect; the  fertility  of  his  imagination;  his 
copious  and  fatal  logic ;  the  scathing  sever- 
ity of  his  sarcasm,  and  his  full  and  electri- 
fying eloquence.  Mr.  Webster's  own 
feelings  with  reference  to  the  speech  were 
freely  expressed  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Everett, 
the  evening  succeeding  Mr.  Hayne's  clos- 
ing effort.  He  regarded  the  speech  as  an 
entirely  unprovoked  attack  upon  the  north, 
and,  what  was  of  far  more  importance,  as 
an  exposition  of  a  system  of  politics, 
which,  in  Mr.  Webster's  opinion,  went  far 
to  change  the  form  of  government  from 
that  which  was  established  by  the  consti- 
tution, into  that  which  existed  under  the 
confederation, — if  the  latter  could  be  called 
a  government  at  all.  He  stated  it  to  be 
his  intention,  therefore,  to  put  that  theory 
to  rest  forever,  as  far  as  it  could  be  done 


by  an  argument  in  the  senate-chamber. 
How  grandly  he  did  this,  is  thus  vividly 
portrayed  by  Mr.  March,  an  eye-witness, 
and  whose  account  has  been  adopted  by  all 
historians: 

It  was  on  Tuesday,  January  the  twenty- 
sixth,  1830, — a  day  to  be  hereafter  forever 
memorable  in  senatorial  annals, — that  the 
senate  resumed  the  consideration  of  Foot's 
resolution.  There  was  never  before  in  the 
city,  an  occasion  of  so  much  excitement. 
To  witness  this  great  intellectual  contest, 
multitudes  of  strangers  had  for  two  or 


ROBERT  Y.   HAYNE. 


three  days  previous  been  rushing  into  the 
city,  and  the  hotels  overflowed.  As  early 
as  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  crowds 
poured  into  the  capitol,  in  hot  haste ;  at 
twelve  o'clock,  the  hour  of  meeting,  the 
senate-chamber, — its  galleries,  floor,  and 
even  the  lobbies, — was  filled  to  its  utmost 
capacity.  The  very  stairways  were  dark 
with  men,  who  hung  on  to  one  another, 
like  bees  in  a  swarm. 

The  house  of  representatives  was  early 
deserted.  An  adjournment  would  hardly 
have  made  it  emptier.  The  speaker,  it  is 
true,  retained  his  chair,  but  no  business  of 
moment  was,  or  could  be,  attended  to. 
Members  all  rushed  in,  to  hear  Mr.  Web- 
ster, and  no  call  of  the  house,  or  other  par- 
liamentary proceedings,  could  compel  them 
I  back.  The  floor  of  the  senate  was  BO 


208 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


densely  crowded,  that  persons  once  in 
could  not  get  out,  nor  change  their  posi- 
tion. In  the  rear  of  the  vice-president's 
chair,  the  crowd  was  particularly  dense; 
Hon.  Dixon  H.  Lewis,  then  a  representa- 
tive from  Alabama,  became  wedged  in 
here.  From  his  enormous  size,  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  move  without  dis- 
placing a  vast  portion  of  the  multitude ; 
unfortunately,  too,  for  him,  he  was 
jammed  in  directly  behind  the  chair  of  the 
vice-president,  where  he  could  not  see,  and 
could  hardly  hear,  the  speaker.  By  slow 
and  laborious  effort — pausing  occasionally 
to  breathe — he  gained  one  of  the  windows, 
which,  constructed  of  painted  glass,  flanked 
the  chair  of  the  vice-president  on  either 
side.  Here  he  paused,  unable  to  make 
more  headway.  But  determined  to  see 
Mr.  Webster,  as  he  spoke,  with  his  knife 
he  made  a  large  hole  in  one  of  the  panes 
of  glass.  The  courtesy  of  senators  ac- 
corded to  the  fairer  sex  room  on  the  floor 
— the  most  gallant  of  them,  their  own 
seats. 

Seldom,  if  ever,  has  -speaker  in  this  or 
any  other  country,  had  more  powerful 
incentives  to  exertion ;  a  subject,  the 
determination  of  which  involved  the  most 
important  interests,  and  even  duration,  of 
the  republic ;  competitors,  unequaled  in 
reputation,  ability,  or  position ;  a  name  to 
make  still  more  renowned,  or  lose  forever ; 
and  an  audience,  comprising  not  only 
American  citizens  most  eminent  in  intel- 
lectual greatness,  but  representatives  of 
other  nations,  where  the  art  of  eloquence 
had  flourished  for  ages. 

Mr.  Webster  perceived,  anu  felt  equal 
to,  the  destinies  of  the  moment.  The  very 
greatness  of  the  hazard  exhilarated  him. 
His  spirits  rose  with  the  occasion.  He 
awaited  the  time  of  onset  with  a  stern  and 
impatient  joy.  He  felt,  like  the  war-horse 
of  the  scriptures,  who  '  paweth  in  the 
valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  :  who 
goeth  on  to  meet  the  armed  men, — who 
sayeth  among  the  trumpets,  ha,  ha !  and 
who  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the  thun- 
der of  the  captains  and  the  shouting.'  A 
confidence  in  his  resources,  springing  from 


no  vain  estimate  of  his  power,  but  the 
legitimate  offspring  of  previous  severe 
mental  discipline,  sustained  and  excited 
him.  He  had  gauged  his  opponents,  his 
subject,  and  himself.  He  was,  too,  at  this 
period,  in  the  very  prime  of  manhood.  He 
had  reached  middle  age — an  era  in  the  life 
of  man,  when  the  faculties,  physical  or 
intellectual,  may  be  supposed  to  attain 
their  fullest  organization,  and  most  perfect 
development.  .  Whatever  there  was  in 
him  of  intellectual  energy  and  vitality,  the 
occasion,  his  full  life  and  high  ambition, 
might  well  bring  forth. 

He  never  rose  on  an  ordinary  occasion 
to  address  an  ordinary  audience  more  self- 
possessed.  There  was  no  tremulousness  in 
his  voice  nor  manner;  nothing  hurried, 
nothing  simulated.  The  calmness  of  supe- 
rior strength  was  visible  everywhere  ;  in 
countenance,  voice,  and  bearing.  A  deep- 
seated  conviction  of  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  emergency,  and  of  his 
ability  to  control  it,  seemed  to  possess  him 
wholly.  If  an  observer,  more  than  ordi- 
narily keen-sighted,  detected  at  times 
something  like  exultation  in  his  eye,  he 
presumed  it  sprang  from  the  excitement  of 
the  moment,  and  the  anticipation  of 
victory. 

The  anxiety  to  hear  the  speech  was  so 
intense,  irrepressible,  and  universal,  that 
no  sooner  had  the  vice-president  assumed 
the  chair,  than  a  motion  was  made  and 
unanimously  carried,  to  postpone  the  ordi- 
nary preliminaries  of  senatorial  action,  and 
to  take  up  immediately  the  consideration 
of  the  resolution. 

Mr.  Webster  rose  and  addressed  the 
senate.  His  exordium  is  known  by  heart 
everywhere :  "  Mr.  President,  when  the 
mariner  has  been  tossed,  for  many  days,  in 
thick  weather,  and  oh  an  unknown  sea,  he 
naturally  avails  himself  of  the  first  pause 
in  the  storm,  the  earliest  glance  of  the 
sun,  to  take  his  latitude,  and  ascertain  how 
far  the  elements  have  driven  him  from  his 
true  course.  Let  us  imitate  this  prudence ; 
and  before  we  float  further,  on  the  waves 
of  this  debate,  refer  to  the  point  from 
which  we  departed,  that  we  may,  at  least, 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


10  b 


be  able  to  form  some  conjecture  where  we 
now  are.  I  ask  for  the  reading  of  the  res- 
olution." Calm,  resolute,  impressive,  was 
this  opening  utterance. 

There  wanted  no  more  to  enchain  the 
attention.  There  was  a  spontaneous, 
though  silent,  expression  of  eager  approba- 
tion, as  the  orator  concluded  these  opening 
remarks.  And  while  the  clerk  read  the 
resolution,  many  attempted  the  impossibil- 
ity of  getting  nearer  the  speaker.  Every 
head  was  inclined  closer  towards  him, 
ever}'  ear  turned  in  the  direction  of  his 
voice — and  that  deep,  sudden,  mysterious 
silence  followed,  which  always  attends  full- 
ness of  emotion.  From  the  sea  of  up- 
turned faces  before  him,  the  orator  beheld 
his  thoughts  reflected  as  from  a  mirror. 
The  varying  countenance,  the  suffused  eye, 
the  earnest  smile,  and  ever-attentive  look, 
assured  him  of  the  intense  interest  excited. 
If,  among  his  hearers,  there  were  those 
who  affected  at  first  an  indifference  to  his 
glowing  thoughts  and  fervent  periods,  the 
difficult  mask  was  soon  laid  aside,  and 
profound,  undisguised,  devoted  attention 


DANIKL  WKBSTEB. 


followed.  In  truth,  all,  sooner  or  later, 
voluntarily,  or  in  spite  of  themselves,  were 
wholly  carried  away  by  the  spell  of  such 
unexampled  forensic  eloquence. 

Those  who  had  doubted  Mr.  Webster's 

ability   to   cope    with   and   overcome   his 
14 


opponents  were  fully  satisfied  of  their 
error  before  he  had  proceeded  far  in  his 
speech.  Their  feara  soon  took  another 
direction.  WThen  they  heard  his  sentences 
of  powerful  thought,  towering  in  accumu- 
lative grandeur,  one  above  the  other,  as 
if  the  orator  strove,  Titan-like,  to  reach 
the  very  heavens  themselves,  they  were 
giddy  with  an  apprehension  that  he  would 
break  down  in  his  flight.  They  dared  not 
believe,  that  genius,  learning, — any  intel' 
lectual  endowment,  however  uncommon, 
that  was  simply  mortal,  —  could  sustain 
itself  long  in  a  career  seemingly  so  peril- 
ous. They  feared  an  Icarian  fall. 

No  one,  surely,  could  ever  forget,  who 
was  present  to  hear,  the  tremendous — the 
awful — burst  of  eloquence  with  which  the 
orator  apostrophized  the  old  Bay  State 
which  Mr.  Hayne  had  so  derided,  or  the 
tones  of  deep  pathos  in  which  her  defense 
was  pronounced:  "Mr.  President,  I  shall 
enter  on  no  encomium  upon  Massachusetts. 
There  she  is — behold  her  and  judge  for 
yourselves.  There  is  her  history ;  the 
world  knows  it  by  heart.  The  past,  at 
least,  is  secure.  There  is  Boston,  and 
Concord,  and  Lexington,  and  Bunker  Hill, 
—  and  there  they  will  remain  forever. 
The  bones  of  her  sons,  falling  in  the  great 
struggle  for  independence,  now  lie  min- 
gled with  the  soil  of  every  state,  from  New 
England  to  Georgia ;  and  there  they  will 
lie  forever.  And,  sir,  where  American 
liberty  raised  its  first  voice,  and  where  its 
youth  was  nurtured  and  sustained,  there  it 
still  lives,  in  the  strength  of  its  manhood 
and  full  of  its  original  spirit.  If  discord 
and  disunion  shall  wound  it  —  if  party- 
strife  and  blind  ambition  shall  hawk  at 
and  tear  it — if  folly  and  madness — if  uneas- 
iness under  salutary  and  necessary  re- 
straint,— shall  succeed  to  separate  it  from 
that  Union,  by  which  alone  its  existence 
is  made  sure,  it  will  stand,  in  the  end,  by 
the  side  of  that  cradle  in  which  its  infancy 
was  rocked :  it  will  stretch  fortJi  its  arm 
with  whatever  of  vigor  it  may  still  retain, 
over  the  friends  who  gather  round  it ;  and 
it  will  fall  at  last,  if  fall  it  must,  amidst 
the  proudest  monuments  of  its  own  glory, 


210 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


anil  on  the  very  spot  of  its  origin."  No 
New  England  heart  but  throbbed  with 
vehement,  absorbed,  irrepressible  emotion, 
as  Mr.  Webster  thus  dwelt  upon  New 
England  sufferings,  New  England  strug- 
gles, and  New  England  triumphs,  during 
the  war  of  the  revolution.  There  was 
scarcely  a  dry  eye  in  the  senate ;  all  hearts 
were  overcome ;  grave  judges,  and  men 
grown  old  in  dignified  life,  turned  aside 
their  heads,  to  conceal  the  evidences  of 
their  emotion. 

In  one  corner  of  the  gallery  was  clus- 
tered a  group  of  Massachusetts  men. 
They  had  hung  from  the  first  moment 
upon  the  words  of  the  speaker,  with  feel- 
ings variously  but  always  warmly  excited, 
deepening  in  intensity  as  he  proceeded. 
At  first,  while  the  orator  was  going 
through  hia  exordium,  they  held  their 
breath  and  hid  their  faces,  mindful  of  the 
fierce  attack  upon  him  and  New  England, 
and  the  fearful  odds  against  any  one 
standing  up  as  a  champion  of  the  latter ; 
as  he  went  deeper  into  his  speech,  they 
telt  easier ;  when  he  turned  Hayne's  flank 
on  "  Banquo's  ghost " — that  famous  rhe- 
torical figure  used  by  the  South  Carolinian, 
—  they  breathed  freer  and  fuller.  But 
anon,  as  he  alluded  to  Massachusetts,  their 
feelings  were  strained  to  the  utmost  ten- 
sion ;  and  when  the  senator,  concluding 
his  passages  upon  the  land  of  their  birth, 
turned,  intentionally  or  otherwise,  his 
burning  eye  upon  them,  tears  -were  falling 
like  rain  adown  their  cheeks. 

No  one  who  was  not  present  can  under- 
stand the  excitement  of  the  scene.  No 
one,  who  was,  can  give  an  adequate  de- 
scription of  it.  No  word-painting  can 
convey  the  deep,  intense  enthusiasm, — the 
reverential  attention,  of  that  vast  assem- 
bly,— nor  limner  transfer  to  canvas  their 
earnest,  eager,  awe-struck  countenances. 
Though  language  were  as  subtle  and  flex- 
ible as  thought,  it  still  would  be  impossi- 
ble to  represent  the  full  idea  of  the  occa- 
sion. 

Much  of  the  instantaneous  effect  of  the 
speech  arose,  of  course,  from  the  orator's 
delivery — the  tones  of  his  voice,  his  coun- 


tenance, and  manner.  These  die  mostly 
with  the  occasion ;  they  can  only  be 
described  in  general  terms.  "  Of  the 
effectiveness  of  Mr.  Webster's  manner,  in 
many  parts,"  says  Mr.  Everett,  himself 
almost  without  a  peer,  as  an  orator,  "  it 
would  be  in  vain  to  attempt  to  give  any 
one  not  present  the  faintest  idea.  It  has 
been  my  fortune  to  hear  some  of  the  ablest 
speeches  of  the  greatest  living  orators  on 
both  sides  of  the  water,  but  I  must  confess 
I  never  heard  anything  which  so  com- 
pletely realized  my  conception  of  what 
Demosthenes  was  when  he  delivered  the 
Oration  for  the  Crown."  There  could  be 
no  higher  praise  than  this.  Kean  nor 
Kemble,  nor  any  other  masterly  delineator 
of  the  human  passions,  ever  produced  a 
more  powerful  impression  upon  an  audi- 
ence, or  swayed  so  completely  their  hearts. 

No  one  ever  looked  the  orator,  as  he  did, 
— in  form  and  feature  how  like  a  god  !  His 
countenance  spake  no  less  audibly  than  his 
words.  His  manner  gave  new  force  to  his 
language.  As  he  stood  swaying  his  right 
arm,  like  a  huge  tilt-hammer,  up  and 
down,  his  swarthy  countenance  lighted  up 
with  excitement,  he  appeared  amid  the 
smoke,  the  fire,  the  thunder  of  his  elo- 
quence, like  Vulcan  in  his  armory  forging 
thoughts  for  the  gods !  Time  had  not 
thinned  nor  bleached  his  hair;  it  was  as 
dark  as  the  raven's  plumage,  surmounting 
his  massive  brow  in  ample  folds.  His  eye, 
always  dark  and  deep-set,  enkindled  by 
some  glowing  thought,  shone  from  beneath 
his  somber,  overhanging  brow  like  lights, 
in  the  blackness  of  night,  from  a  sepul- 
chre. No  one  understood,  better  than  Mr. 
Webster,  the  philosophy  of  dress ; — what  a 
powerful  auxiliary  it  is  to  speech  and 
manner,  when  harmonizing  with  them. 
On  this  occasion  he  appeared  in  a  blue 
coat,  a  buff  vest,  black  pants,  and  white 
cravat,  a  costume  strikingly  in  keeping 
with  his  face  and  expression. 

The  human  face  never  wore  an  expres- 
sion of  more  withering,  relentless  scorn, 
than  when  the  orator  replied  to  Hayne's 
allusion  to  the  "  murdered  coalition," — a 
piece  of  stale  political  trumpery,  well 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


211 


understood  at  that  day.  "  It  is,"  said  Mr. 
Webster,  "the  very  cast-off  slough  of  a 
polluted  and  shameless  press.  Incapable 
of  further  mischief,  it  lies  in  the  sewer, 
lifeless  and  despised.  It  is  not  now,  sir, 
in  the  power  of  the  honorable  member  to 
give  it  dignity  or  decency,  by  attempting 
to  elevate  it,  and  introduce  it  into  the 
senate.  He  cannot  change  it  from  what 
it  is — an  object  of  general  disgust  and 
scorn.  On  the  contrary,  the  contact,  if  he 
choose  to  touch  it,  is  more  likely  to  drag 
him  down,  down  to  the  place  where  it  lies 
itself ! "  He  looked,  as  he  spoke  these 
words,  as  if  the  thing  he  alluded  to  was 
too  mean  for  scorn  itself,  and  the  sharp, 
stinging  enunciation,  made  the  words  still 
more  scathing.  The  audience  seemed 
relieved, — so  crushing  was  the  expression 
of  his  face  which  they  held  on  to,  as  'twere, 
spell-bound,  —  when  he  turned  to  other 
topics. 

But  the  good-natured  yet  provoking 
irony  with  which  he  described  the  imagin- 
ary though  life-like  scene  of  direct  collision 
between  the  marshaled  army  of  South 
Carolina  under  General  Hayne  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  officers  of  the  United  States 
on  the  other,  nettled  his  opponent  even 
more  than  his  severer  satire;  it  seemed  so 
ridiculously  true.  With  his  true  Southern 
blood,  Hayne  inquired,  with  some  degree 
of  emotion,  if  the  gentleman  from  Massa- 
chusetts intended  any  personal  imputation 
by  such  remarks?  To  which  Mr.  Web- 
ster replied,  with  perfect  good  humor, 
"  Assuredly  not — just  the  reverse  !  " 

The  variety  of  incident  during  the 
speech,  and  the  rapid  fluctuation  of  pas- 
sions, kept  the  audience  in  continual 
expectation,  and  ceaseless  agitation.  The 
speech  was  a  complete  drama  of  serious, 
comic,  and  pathetic  scenes ;  and  though  a 
large  portion  of  it  was  strictly  argumenta- 
tive— an  exposition  of  constitutional  law, 
— yet,  grave  as  such  portion  necessarily 
must  be,  severely  logical,  and  abounding 
in  no  fancy  or  episode,  it  engrossed, 
throughout,  undivided  attention. 

The  swell  of  his  voice  and  its  solemn 
roll  struck  upon  the  ears  of  the  enraptured 


audience,  in  deep  and  thrilling  cadence,  as 
waves  upon  the  shore  of  the  far-resound- 
ing sea.  The  Miltonic  grandeur  of  his 
words  was  the  fit  expression  of  his  great 
thoughts,  and  raised  his  hearers  up  to  his 
theme  ;  and  his  voice,  exerted  to  its  utmost 
power,  penetrated  every  recess  or  corner 
of  the  senate — penetrated  even  the  ante- 
rooms and  stairways,  as,  in  closing,  he 
pronounced  in  deepest  tones  of  pathos 
these  words  of  solemn  significance : 
"  When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold, 
for  the  last  time,  the  sun  in  heaven,  may 
I  not  see  him  shining  on  the  broken  and 
dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union;  on  states  dissevered,  discordant, 
belligerent;  on  a  land  rent  with  civil 
feuds,  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in  fraternal 
blood!  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering 
glance  rather  behold  the  gorgeous  ensign 
of  the  republic,  now  known  and  honored 
throughout  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming 
in  their  original  luster,  not  a  stripe  erased 
nor  polluted,  not  a  single  star  obscured, 
bearing  for  its  motto  no  such  miserable 
interrogatory  as,  "What  is  all  this  worth  ?" 
— nor  those  other  words  of  delusion  and 
folly,  "Liberty  first  and  Union  after- 
wards :  "  but  everywhere,  spread  all  over 
in  characters  of  living  light,  blazing  on  all 
its  ample  folds,  as  they  float  over  the  sea 
and  over  the  land,  and  in  every  wind 
under  the  whole  heavens,  that  other  senti- 
ment, dear  to  every  American  heart, 
"LIBERTY  AND  UNION,  NOW  AND  FOK- 
EVEB,  ONE  AND  INSEPARABLE  !  " 

The  speech  was  over,  but  the  tones  of 
the  orator  still  lingered  upon  the  ear,  and 
the  audience,  unconscious  of  the  close, 
retained  their  positions.  Everywhere 
around  seemed  forgetfulness  of  all  but  the 
orator's  presence  and  words.  There  never 
was  a  deeper  stillness ;  silence  could  almost 
have  heard  itself,  it  was  so  supernaturally 
still.  The  feeling  was  too  overpowering, 
to  allow  expression  by  voice  or  hand.  It 
was  as  if  one  was  in  a  trance,  all  motion 
paralyzed.  But  the  descending  hammer 
of  the  chair  awoke  them,  with  a  start ;  and 
with  one  universal,  long  drawn,  deep 


212 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


WEBSTER'S  REPLY  TO  HATNE. 


breath,  with  which  the  overcharged  heart 
geeks  relief,  the  crowded  assembly  broke 
up  and  departed. 

New  England  men  walked  down  Penn- 
sylvania avenue  that  day,  after  the  speech, 
with  a  firmer  step  and  bolder  air — '  pride 
in  their  port,  defiance  in  their  eye.'  They 
devoured  the  way  in  their  stride.  They 
looked  every  one  in  the  face  they  met, 
fearing  no  contradiction.  They  swarmed 
in  the  streets,  having  become  miraculously 
multitudinous.  They  clustered  in  parties 
and  fought  the  scene  over  one  hundred 
times  that  night.  Their  elation  was 
the  greater,  by  reaction.  Not  one  of 
them  but  felt  he  had  gained  a  personal 
victory. 

In  the  evening,  General  Jackson  held  a 
presidential  levee  at  the  White  House.  It 
was  known,  in  advance,  that  Mr.  Webster 
would  attend  it,  and  hardly  had  the  hos- 
pitable doors  of  the  mansion  been  thrown 
open,  when  the  crowd  that  had  filled  the 
senate-chamber  in  the  morning  rushed  in 


and  occupied  the  rooms,  leaving  a  vast 
and  increasing  crowd  at  the  entrance. 
On  all  previous  occasions,  the  general 
himself  had  been  the  observed  of  all 
observers.  His  receptions  were  always 
gladly  attended  by  large  numbers ;  and 
to  these  he  himself  was  always  the  chief 
object  of  attraction,  on  account  of  his 
great  military  and  personal  reputation, 
official  position,  gallant  bearing,  and 
courteous  manners. 

But  on  this  occasion,  the  room  in  which 
he  received  his  company  was  deserted,  as 
soon  as  courtesy  to  the  president  permitted. 
Mr.  Webster  was  in  the  East  Room,  and 
thither  the  whole  mass  hurried.  He  stood 
almost  in  the  center  of  the  room,  pressed 
upon  by  surging  crowds,  eager  to  pay  him 
deference.  Hayne,  too,  was  there,  and, with 
others, went  up  and  complimented  Mr.  Web- 
ster on  his  brilliant  effort.  In  a  subsequent 
meeting  between  the  two  rival  debaters, 
Webster  challenged  Hayne  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine  with  him,  saying,  as  he  did  so, — 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  WEBSTER  AND  HAYNE. 


213 


"  General  Hayne,  I  drink  to  your  health, 
and  I  hope  that  you  may  live  a  thousand 
years." 

"  I  shall  not  live  more  than  one  hundred, 
if  you  make  another  such  speech,"  Hayne 
replied. 

To  this  day,  Webster's  speech  is  re- 
garded as  the  masterpiece  of  modern  elo- 
quence,— unsurpassed  by  even  the  might- 
iest efforts  of  Pitt,  Fox,  or  Burke, —  a 
matchless  intellectual  achievement  and 
complete  forensic  triumph.  It  was  to  this 
great  and  triumphant  effort,  that  Mr. 
Webster's  subsequent  matchless  fame  as  a 
statesman  was  due;  and,  that  he  was 
equal  to  comprehending  the  true  principles 
of  international,  as  well  as  those  of  inter- 
nal, justice  and  policy,  is  abundantly 
proved  by  his  diplomacy  with  Great  Brit- 
ain, to  which  the  highest  credit  is  awarded 
by  Eliot,  the  accomplished  historian,  in  his 
concise  and  admirable  review  of  public 
affairs  during  this  period.  An  insurrec- 
tion (says  Mr.  Eliot)  having  broken  out 
in  Canada,  it  was  immediately  supported 
by  American  parties,  the  insurgents  being 
in  favor  of  reform  or  independence.  One 
of  these  American  parties,  in  company 
with  some  Canadian  refugees,  after  pillag- 
ing the  New  York  arsenals,  seized  upon 
Navy  Island,  a  British  possession  in  the 
Niagara  river.  Mr.  Marcy  was  governor 
of  New  York  at  this  time.  The  steamer 
Caroline,  engaged  in  bringing  over  men, 
arms,  and  stores  to  the  island,  was  de- 
stroyed, though  at  the  time  on  the  Ameri- 
can shore,  by  a  Britsh  detachment.  The 
deed  was  instantly  avowed  by  the  minister 
of  Great  Britain  at  Washington  as  an  act 
of  self-defense  on  the  British  side.  One 
of  the  chief  characters  in  these  exciting 
movements  was  William  M'Kenzie.  In 
November,  1840,  one  Alexander  M'Leod, 


sheriff  of  Niagara,  in  Canada,  and  as  such 
a  participator  in  the  destruction  of  the 
Caroline,  was  arrested  in  New  York  on 
the  charge  of  murder,  an  American  having 
lost  his  life  when  the  steamer  was  de- 
stroyed. The  British  government  de- 
manded his  release,  in  doing  which  they 
were  sustained  by  the  United  States 
administration,  on  the  ground  that  M'Leod 
was  but  an  agent  or  soldier  of  Great  Brit- 
ain. But  the  authorities  of  New  York 
held  fast  to  their  prisoner,  and  brought 
him  to  trial.  Had  harm  come  to  him,  his 
government  stood  pledged  to  declare  war ; 
but  he  was  acquitted  for  want  of  proof. 
The  release  of  M'Leod  did  not,  however, 
settle  the  affair  of  the  Caroline  ;  this  still 
remained.  There  were,  or  there  had  been, 
other  difficulties  also, — namely,  upon  the 
Maine  frontier,  where  the  boundary-line 
had  never  yet  been  run.  Collisions  took 
place,  between  the  Maine  militia  and  the 
British  troops,  and  others  had  been  but 
just  prevented.  On  Mr.  Webster's  acces- 
sion to  the  state  department,  our  govern- 
ment proposed,  through  Mr.  Webster,  to 
the  British  cabinet,  to  take  up  the  north- 
eastern boundary  question.  The  offer  was 
accepted  by  the  British,  who  sent,  as  spe- 
cial envoy,  Lord  Ashburton,  to  whom  was 
committed  the  boundary  and  other  contro- 
verted questions.  The  consultations  be- 
tween Mr.  Webster  and  Lord  Ashburton 
led  to  a  treaty  which  settled  the  boundary, 
put  down  the  claim  to  visit  our  vessels, 
and  provided  for  the  mutual  surrender  of 
fugitives  from  justice.  For  the  affair  of 
the  Caroline,  an  apology  was  made  by 
Great  Britain. 

The  fame  of  Mr.  Webster,  as  an 
orator,  a  statesman,  and  an  expounder  of 
public  law,  thus  became  world-wide  and 
unrivaled. 


XXVI. 

RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE. MORMONS,  OR  "LATTER- 
DAY    SAINTS,"  UNDER    JOSEPH    SMITH,  THE 
"PROPHET  OF  THE  LORD."— 1830. 


His  Assumed  Discovery  of  the  Golden  Plates  of  a  New  Bible. — Apostles  Sent  Forth  and  Converts 
Obtained  in  All  Parts  of  the  World. — Founding  and  Destruction  of  Nauvoo,  the  "  City  of  Zion." — 
Smith's  Character. — Removal  to  Utah,  the  "Promised  Land."  —  Smith  the  "Mohammed 
of  the  West." — His  Origin  and  Repute. — Pretended  Supernatural  Interviews. — Revela- 
tions of  Divine  Records.— Finds  and  Translates  Them.— Secret  History  of  this  Transaction. 
— Pronounced  to  be  a  Fraud.— Teachings  of  the  Mormon  Bible.— Smith  Claims  to  be  Inspired  — 
Announced  as  a  Second  Savior. —  Organization  of  the  Firsi  Church. — Strange  Title  Adopted. — 
Smith's  Great  Personal  Influence. — Rapid  Increase  of  the  Sect. — Settlement  at  the  West. — 
Violent  Opposition  to  Them. — Outrages,  Assassinations,  Riots. — Polygamy  "Divinely"  Author- 
ized.— Smith  in  Jail  as  a  Criminal. — Is  Shot  Dead  by  a  Furious  Mob. — Brigham  Young  His  Suc- 
cessor. — The  "  New  Jerusalem." 


— "  And  with  a  piece  of  scripture 
Tell  them,— that  God  Did*  ui  do  good  for  evil. 

And  thus  I  clothe  my  naked  villainy 
With  old  odd  ends,  stol'n  forth  of  Holy  Writ, 
And  seem  a  saint,  when  most  I  play  the  devil." 


the  many  oracular  predictions  indulged  in  by  trans-Atlantic  wiseacres, 
concerning  the  future  of  American  history,  not  one  of  them  has  had 
so  accurate  and  remarkable  a  fulfillment  as  that  made  by  Robert 
Southey,  the  great  English  poet  and  historian,  in  1829,  and  which 
ran  as  follows:  "The  next  Aaron  Burr  who  seeks  to  carve 
a  kingdom  for  himself  out  of  the  overgrown  territories  of 
r^r:  the  Union,  may  discern  that  fanaticism  is  the  most  effective 
weapon  with  which  ambition  can  arm  itself;  that  the  way  for 
both  is  prepared  by  that  immorality  which  the  want  of  religion  naturally  and 
necessarily  induces,  and  that  camp-meetings  may  be  very  well  directed  to  forward  the 
designs  of  military  prophets.  Were  there  another  Mohammed  to  arise,  there  is  no 
part  of  the  world  where  he  would  find  more  scope  or  fairer  opportunity  than  in  that 
part  of  the  Anglo-American  Union  into  which  the  older  states  continually  discharge  the 
restless  part  of  their  population,  leaving  laws  and  Gospel  to  overtake  it  if  they  can,  for 
in  the  march  of  modern  civilization  both  are  left  behind."  This  prophecy  was  uttered 
long  before  even  the  name  of  'Mormon'  had  been  heard  in  the  west,  and,  bating  the 
hermit-poet's  very  natural  fling  at  camp-meetings,  and  his  English  cant  about  American 
immorality,  is  worthy  of  a  seer. 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


215 


Joseph  Smith,  the  Mohammed  of  the 
West, — founder  of  the  sect  called  Mor- 
mons, or  Latter-Day  Saints, — was  born  in 
Sharon,  Vermont,  December  23,  1805,  and 
met  a  violent  death  at  Carthage,  Illinois, 
in  his  thirty-ninth  year.  In  1815,  he  re- 
moved with  his  father  to  Palmyra,  New 
York,  and  here  they  sustained  an  unen- 
viable reputation,  for  idleness,  intemper- 
ance, dishonest}-,  and  other  immoralities. 
Joseph  was  especially  obnoxious  in  these 
respects  ;  and,  having  never  received  any 
education,  he  could  scarctly  so  much  as 
read  and  write  when  he  had  attained  to 
manhood,  and  whatever  he  put  forth  to  the 
world,  under  his  own  name,  was  written 
or  composed  by  another  hand. 

According  to  his  own  account  of  him- 
self, his  mind  was  at  a  very  early  age 
exercised  religiously,  and,  on  the  evening 
of  September  21st,  when  he  was  but 
eighteen  years  old,  the  angel  Moroni — a 
glorious  being  from  Heaven — appeared 
before  him,  as  a  messenger  from  the 
Lord,  instructing  him  in  the  secret  pur- 
poses of  the  Most  High,  and  announcing 
the  divine  will  to  be  that  he,  Smith, 
should  become  a  spiritual  leader  and  com- 
mander to  the  nations  of  the  earth.  He 
was  also  told  that  there  was  a  bundle  of 
golden  or  metallic  plates  deposited  in  a 
hill  in  Manchester,  New  York  (to  which 
place  Smith  had  removed  in  1819),  whi^h 
plates  contained  some  lost  biblical  records, 
and  with  which  were  two  transparent 
stones,  set  in  the  rim  of  a  bow  of  silver, 
which  were  anciently  known  as  the  Urim 
and  Thummim ;  by  looking  through  these 
stones,  he  could  see  the  strange  characters 
on  the  plates  translated  into  plain  English. 
These  plates  were  about  eight  inches  long 
by  seven  wide,  and  a  little  thinner  than 
ordinary  tin,  and  were  bound  together  by 
three  rings  running  through  the  whole. 
Altogether  they  were  about  six  inches 
thick,  and  were  neatly  engraved  on  each 
side  with  hieroglyphics  in  a  language 
called  the  Reformed  Egyptian,  not  then 
known  on  the  earth.  From  these  plates, 
Smith,  sitting  behind  a  blanket  hung 
across  the  room  to  keep  the  sacred  records 


from  profane  eyes,  read  off,  through  the 
transparent  stones,  the  "Book  of  Mor- 
mon," or  Golden  Bible,  to  Oliver  Cowdery, 
who  wrote  it  down  as  Smith  read  it.  It 
was  printed  in  1830,  in  a  volume  of 
several  hundred  pages.  Appended  to  it 
was  a  statement  signed  by  Oliver  Cow- 
dery, David  Whitmer,  and  Martin  Harris, 
who  had  become  professed  believers  in 
Smith's  supernatural  pretensions,  and  are 
called  by  the  Mormons,  the  "three  wit- 
nesses." In  after  years,  however,  these 
witnesses  quarreled  with  Smith,  renounced 
Mormonism,  and  avowed  the  falsity  of 
their  testimony. 

It  is  charged  by  the  opponents  of 
Smith,  that  the  book  in  question  was  not 
the  production  of  Smith,  in  any  wise,  but 
of  the  Rev.  Solomon  Spalding,  who  wrote 
it  as  a  sort  of  romance,  and  that  it  was 
seen  and  stolen  by  Sidney  Rigdon,  after- 
wards Smith's  right-hand  man.  Spalding 
had  become  involved  in  his  pecuniary 
affairs,  and  wrote  this  work,  intending  to 
have  it  printed  and  published,  and  with 
the  proceeds  to  pay  his  debts.  The  book 
was  entitled  "Manuscript  Found."  It 
was  an  historical  romance  of  the  first  set- 
tlers of  America,  endeavoring  to  show  that 
the  American  Indians  are  the  descendants 
of  the  Jews  or  the  lost  tribes.  It  gave  a 
detailed  account  of  their  journey  from 
Jerusalem,  by  land  and  sea,  till  they 
arrived  in  America  under  the  command  of 
Nephi  and  Lehi.  They  afterward  had 
quarrels  and  contentions,  and  separated 
into  two  distinct  nations,  one  of  which  he 
denominated  Nephites  and  the  other  Lam- 
anites.  Cruel  and  bloody  wars  ensued,  in 
which  great  multitudes  were  slain.  They 
buried  their  dead  in  large  heaps,  which 
caused  the  mounds,  so  common  in  this 
country.  Their  arts,  sciences,  and  civiliz- 
ation were  brought  into  view,  in  order  to 
account  for  all  the  curious  antiquities, 
found  in  various  parts  of  North  and  South 
America.  Abundant  testimony  was  ad- 
duced from  the  wife,  brother,  and  business 
partner  of  Spalding,  to  whom  portions  of 
the  work  had  been  read  while  it  was  in 
course  of  preparation,  proving  that  the 


vJ 


216 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


Mormon  bible  was  made  up  of  identically 
the  same  matter,  combined  with  portions 
of  the  true  Scripture.  Mr.  Spalding's 
business  partner,  Mr.  Miller,  testified  on 
oath  as  follows : 

'I  have  recently  examined  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  find  in  it  the  writings  of 
Solomon  Spalding,  from  beginning  to  end, 
but  mixed  up  with  Scripture  and  other 
religious  matter,  which  I  did  not  meet  in 
the  'Manuscript  Found.'  Many  of  the 
passages  in  the  Mormon  book  are  verbatim 
from  Spalding,  and  others  in  part.  The 
names  of  Nephi,  Lehi,  Moroni,  and  in 
fact  all  the  principal  names,  are  brought 
fresh  to  my  recollection  by  the  gold  bible.' 

Mr.  Spalding  wrote  his  manuscript  in 
1812;  he  afterwards  removed  to  Pitts- 
burg,  Pennsylvania,  where  he  died  in 
1816.  His  manuscript  remained  in  the 
printing-office  a  long  time,  and  in  this 
office  Rigdon  was  a  workman.  There  is 
the  best  evidence,  therefore,  that  the 
so-called  Mormon  bible  had  for  its  basis 
the  matter  contained  in  Mr.  Spalding's 
work.  Rigdon,  however,  had  at  first  no 
open  connection  with  Smith,  and  was  con- 
verted by  a  special  mission  sent  into  his 
neighborhood  in  1830.  From  the  time  of 
Rigdon's  conversion,  the  progress  of  Mor- 
monism  was  wonderfully  rapid,  he  being  a 
man  of  more  than  common  cunning  and 
capacity.  It  may  be  of  interest  here  to 
state,  that  a  transcript  on  paper,  of  one  of 
the  golden  plates,  having  been  submitted 
to  Prof.  Charles  Anthon,  of  New  York, 
for  his  inspection,  that  eminent  scholar 
gave,  as  his  statement,  that  the  paper  was 
in  fact  a  kind  of  singular  scroll,  consisting 
of  all  kinds  of  crooked  characters,  disposed 
in  columns,  and  had  evidently  been  pre- 
pared by  some  person  who  had  before  him 
at  the  time  a  book  containing  various 
alphabets,  Greek,  and  Hebrew  letters, 
crosses  and  flourishes  ;  Roman  letters,  in- 
verted or  placed  sideways,  were  arranged 
and  placed  in  perpendicular  columns;  and 
the  whole  ended  in  a  rude  delineation  of 
a  circle,  divided  into  various  compartments, 
decked  with  various  strange  marks,  and 
evidently  copied  after  the  Mexican  calen- 


dar given   by   Humboldt,    but   copied  in 
such  a  way  as  not  to  betray  the  source. 

The  Mormon  theology  teaches  that 
there  is  one  God,  the  Eternal  Father,  his 
son,  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
that  men  will  be  punished  for  their  own 
sins,  and  not  for  Adam's  transgressions ; 
that  through  the  atonement  of  Christ,  all 
mankind  may  be  saved  by  obedience  to 
the  laws  and  ordinances  of  the  gospel, 
these  ordinances  being  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus,  repentance,  baptism  by  im- 
mersion for  the  remission  of  sins,  lay- 
ing on  of  hands  by  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  Lord's  Supper ;  that  man 
must  be  called  of  God  by  inspiration,  and 


by  laying  on  of  hands  from  those  who 
are  duly  commissioned  to  preach  the  gospel 
and  administer  the  ordinances  thereof; 
that  the  same  organization  that  existed 
in  the  primitive  church,  viz.,  apostles, 
prophets,  pastors,  evangelists,  etc.,  should 
be  maintained  now ;  that  the  powers 
and  gifts  of  faith,  discerning  of  spirits, 
prophecy,  revelations,  visions,  healing, 
tongues,  and  the  interpretation  of  tongues, 
still  exist ;  that  the  word  of  God  is 
recorded  in  the  Bible,  and  iii  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  and  in  all  other  good  books ; 
that  there  are  now  being  revealed,  and 
will  continue  to  be  revealed,  many  more 
great  and  important  things  pertaining  to 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  Messiah's  second 
coming;  that  there  is  to  be  a  literal 
gathering  of  Israel,  and  the  restoration  of 
the  ten  tribes;  that  Zion  will  be  estab- 


EISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


217 


lished  upon  the  western  continent;   that 
Christ    will    reign    personally   upon    the 
earth   a   thousand  years,    and   the    earth 
will  be  renewed  and  receive  its  paradisiacal 
glory ;  that  there  is  to  be  a  literal  resur- 
rection of   the    body,   and  that    the  rest 
of    the    dead    live    not    again    until    the 
thousand   years   have    expired;    that   the 
privilege   belongs   to   all,    of    unmolested 
worship  of  God,  according  to    the  dictates 
of  conscience ;  that  all  persons  are  to  be 
subject  to  kings,  queens,  presidents,  rulers, 
and  magistrates,  in  obeying,  honoring,  and 
sustaining  the  law ;  that  God,  having  be- 
come nearly  lost  to  man,  revived  his  work, 
by  revealing  himself  to  Joseph  Smith,  and 
conferring  upon  him  the  keys  of  the  ever- 
lasting priesthood,  thus  making  him  the 
mediator  of  a  new  dispensation,  which  is 
immediately  to  precede  the  second  coming 
of  Christ ;  that  all  those  who  recognize  the 
divine  authority  of    Smith,  and   are  bap- 
tized  by  one   having   authority,   are   the 
chosen   people  of  God,  who  are   to  intro- 
duce the  millennium,  and   to  reign  with 
Christ,  on  the  earth,  a  thousand  years.     The 
doctrine  of  direct  revelation  from  Heaven 
was  at  first  applied  in  a  general  sense,  and 
any  one  firm  in  the  faith,  and  who  stood 
high  in  the  church,  received  visions  and 
revelations.     But  this  soon  became  trouble- 
some,— the  revelations  often  clashed  with 
each  other  and  led  to  many  annoyances, 
and   the   power   of    receiving   revelations 
was  therefore,  in  course  of  time,  confined 
to  the  presidency,  in  whom  the  supreme 
authority  of  the  church  rests.     This  presi- 
dency consists  of    the  president  and    his 
two   counselors ;    the   First  President  is, 
however,  supreme,  and  there  is  no  resist- 
ance to  his  decrees.     Next  in  authority  in 
the  church  is  the  apostolic  college,  which 
is  composed  of  twelve  apostles,  who  form 
a  kind  of  ecclesiastical  senate,  but  a  por- 
tion of  them   are  generally  on  missions, 
taking  charge  of  the  different  branches  of 
the  church  in  other    parts  of   the  world. 
After  these    come  the  high  priests,  who, 
together   with    the    elders,    compose   the 
body  politic  of  the  church,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  carry  out  and  enforce  its  decrees  and 


regulations.  These  high  priests  and  elders 
are  divided  into  societies,  called  quorums 
of  seventies,  and  every  quorum  preserves 
on  its  records  a  complete  genealogy  of 
each  of  its  members. 

Among  the  dignitaries  of  the  church, 
the  patriarch  stands  eminent.  He  holds 
his  office  for  life;  all  other  stations  are 
filled  with  candidates  nominated  by  the 
presidency  and  elected  annually  in  con- 
vention by  the  body  of  the  church.  The 
bishops  also  are  conspicuous  and  important 
officers,  for  it  is  their  duty  to  collect  the 
tithing,  to  inspect  once  a  week  every 
family  in  their  ward  or  district,  and  to 
examine  strictly  into  their  temporal  and 
spiritual  affairs.  In  order  to  do  this  more 
thoroughly,  each  bishop  is  assisted  by  two 
counselors.  The  bishop  also  adjudicates 
and  settles  all  difficulties  occurring  be- 
tween persons  residing  in  his  ward,  though 
from  his  decision  an  appeal  can  be  made 
to  the  high  council.  This  is  a  tribunal 
consisting  of  fifteen  men  selected  from 
among  the  high  priests,  twelve  of  whom 
sit  as  jurors  and  hear  the  testimony  of 
witnesses  in  the  case,  and  then  by  voting 
make  a  decision — a  majority  on  one  side 
or  the  other  deciding  the  question ;  the 
remaining  three,  as  judges,  render  judg- 
ment as  to  the  costs  or  punishment.  From 
this  court  the  only  appeal  is  to  the  presi- 
dency. 

The  first  regularly  constituted  church 
of  the  Mormon  faith  was  organized  in 
Manchester,  N.  Y.,  April  sixth,  1830,  and 
from  this  time  and  event  dates  the  Mor- 
mon era.  It  began  with  six  members  or 
elders  being  ordained,  viz.,  Joseph  Smith, 
sen.,  Hyrum  Smith,  Joseph  Smith,  jr., 
Samuel  Smith,  Oliver  Cowdery,  Joseph 
Knight.  The  sacrament  was  adminis- 
tered, and  hands  were  laid  on  for  the  gift 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  on  this  first  occasion  in 
the  church.  The  first  public  discourse 
was  preached  by  Cowdery,  setting  forth 
the  principles  of  the  gospel  as  revealed  to 
Smith,  April  eleventh ;  and  during  the 
same  month  the  first  miracle  was  per- 
formed, "  by  the  power  of  God,"  in  Coles- 
ville,  K  Y. 


218 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


On  the  first  of  June,  1830,  the  first  con- 
ference of  the  church  was  held  at  Fayette, 
N.  Y.,  and  soon  after,  Messrs.  Pratt  and 
Rigdon  united  publicly  with  the  order. 
Meanwhile,  converts  multiplied  rapidly. 

Early  in  1831,  Smith  set  out  for  Kirt- 
land,  Ohio,  which,  for  a  time,  became  the 
chief  city  of  his  followers.  The  elders 
soon  received  command  to  go  forth  in  pairs 
and  preach,  the  Melchizedek  or  superior 
priesthood  being  first  conferred  upon  them 
in  June.  A  considerable  body  of  Mor- 
mons transferred  themselves  to  Jackson 
county,  Missouri,  in  the  summer  of  this 
year.  So  rapidly  did  their  numbers  aug- 
ment in  this  region,  that  the  older  settlers 
became  alarmed,  and  held  public  meetings 
protesting  against  the  continuance  of  the 
sect  in  their  neighborhood.  Among  the 
resolutions  passed  at  these  meetings  was 
one  requiring  the  Mormon  paper  to  be 
stopped,  but,  as  this  was  not  immediately 
complied  with,  the  office  of  the  paper  was 
destroyed.  Finally,  they  agreed  to  re- 
move from  that  county  into  Clay  county, 
across  the  Missouri,  before  doing  which, 


however,  houses  were  destroyed,  men 
whipped,  and  some  lives  were  lost  on  both 
sides. 

These  outrages,  according  to  the  annals 
given  by  Perkins,  kindled  the  wrath  of 
the  prophet  at  Kirtland,  who  took  steps  to 
bring  about  a  great  gathering  of  his 


disciples,  and,  marshaling  them  as  an 
army,  in  May,  1834,  he  started  for  Mis- 
souri, which  in  due  time  he  reached,  but 
with  no  other  result  than  the  transfer  of  a 
certain  portion  of  his  followers  as  per- 
manent residents  in  a  section  already  too 
full  of  them.  At  first,  the  citizens  of 
Clay  county  were  friendly  to  the  perse- 
cuted ;  but  ere  long,  trouble  grew  up,  and 
.the  wanderers  were  once  more  forced  to 
seek  a  new  home,  to  insure  their  safety. 
This  home  they  found  in  Caldwell  county, 
where,  by  permission  of  the  neighbors  and 
state  legislature,  they  organized  a  county 
government,  the  country  having  been  pre- 
viously unsettled. 

In  addition  to  the  stirring  scenes  al- 
ready recorded,  some  of  the  more  important 
events  in  the  history  and  continued  prog- 
ress of  this  sect  may  be  stated  briefly  as 
follows.  The  year  1832  was  distinguished 
by  the  tarring  and  feathering  of  Smith 
and  Rigdon  by  a  mob,  for  attempting  to 
establish  communism,  and  for  alleged  dis- 
honorable dealing,  forgery,  and  swindling, 
in  connection  with  the  Kirtland  Safety 
Society  Bank,  founded  by  them; 
the  conversion  of  Mr.  Brigham 
Young,  and  his  baptism  by  Eleazer 
Millard,  also  the  baptism  of  Mr. 
Heber  C.  Kimball;  and  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  first  Mormon 
periodical,  by  Mr.  W.  W.  Phelps. 
In  1833,  the  gift  of  tongues 
was  conferred ;  the  re-translation 
of  the  bible  finished;  Bishop 
Partridge  became  the  ecclesias- 
tical head  of  the  church  in  Zion ; 
the  'Missouri  Enquirer'  was  es- 
tablished by  Messrs.  Davis  and 
Kelley.  At  a  conference  of 
elders  in  Kirtland,  May  3,  1834, 
the  body  ecclesiastic  was  first 
named  "The  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ  of  Latter-Day  Saints."  In  1835, 
a  quorum  of  twelve  apostles  was  organized, 
among  whom  were  Brigham  Young  and 
H.  C.  Kimball,  the  former,  being  then 
thirty-four  years  old,  assuming  the  head- 
ship of  the  apostolic  college,  and,  receiv- 
ing the  gift  of  tongues,  was  sent  on  a 


EISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


219 


missionary  tour  toward  the  east.  Young 
was  so  devoted  a  disciple  of  Mormonism, 
that  lie  said  of  Smith,  its  founder : 

"  The  doctrine  he  teaches  is  all  I  know 
about  the  matter ;  bring  anything  against 
that,  if  you  can.  As  to  anything  else,  I 
do  not  care  if  he  acts  like  a  devil ;  he  has 
brought  forth  a  doctrine  that  will  save  us, 
if  we  will  abide  by  it.  He  may  get  drunk 
every  day  of  his  life,  sleep  with  his  neigh- 
bor's wife  every  night,  run  horses  and 
gamble ;  I  do  not  care  anything  about 
that,  for  I  never  embrace  any  man  in  my 
faith." 

Rigdon  was  equally  bold  and  lawless ; 
who  declared,  in  behalf  of  the  prophet  and 
his  followers,  in  a  sermon  preached  at 
Far  West,  to  a  great  concourse, 

"  "We  take  God  and  all  the  holy  angels 
to  witness  this  day,  that  we  warn  all  men, 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  come  on 
us  no  more  forever.  The  man,  or  the  set 
of  men,  who  attempts  it,  does  it  at  the 
expense  of  their  lives.  And  that  mob  that 
comes  on  us  to  disturb  us,  it  shall  be 
between  them  and  us  a  war  of  extermina- 
tion, for  we  will  follow  them  till  the  last 
drop  of  their  blood  is  spilled,  or  else  they 
will  have  to  exterminate  us.  For  we  will 
carry  the  seat  of  war  to  their  own  houses 
and  their  own  families,  and  one  party  or 
the  other  shall  be  utterly  destroyed." 

On  the  20th  of  July,  1837,  Elders  Kim- 
ball,  Hyde,  Richards,  Goodson,  Russell, 
and  Priest  Fielding,  sailed  from  New 
York  for  Liverpool,  to  preach  and  propa- 
gate Mormonism,  and  proselytes  multi- 
plied, especially  in  northern  Europe,  so 
plausibly  was  Smith's  imposture  set  be- 
fore them;  multitudes  of  these  converts, 
male  and  female,  emigrated  to  the  "  prom- 
ised land."  The  next  year  was  dis- 
tinguished by  continued  scenes  of  violence, 
attended  with  bloodshed  and  death,  be- 
tween the  people  of  Missouri  and  the 
Mormons,  among  the  killed  being  Captain 
Fearnot,  alias  Patten,  leader  of  the  Danite 
band.  Smith,  and  his  brother  Hyrum, 
together  with  such  kindred  spirits  as 
Young,  Phelps,  Pratt,  Hedlock,  Turley, 
Rockwell,  Higbee,  were  particularly  ob- 


noxious to  the  hatred  of  the  Missourians ; 
and,  throughout  all  the  western  states,  no 
curse  that  could  come  upon  a  neighbor- 
hood was  considered  so  great  as  that  of  the 
advent  of  Mormon  settlers. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1839,  Smith 
visited  the  town  of  Commerce,  in  Illinois, 
at  the  invitation  of  Dr.  Isaac  Galland,  of 
whom  he  obtained,  gratis,  a  large  tract  of 
land,  to  induce  the  Mormons  to  immigrate, 
and  upon  receipt  of  revelation  called  his 
people  around  him,  and  sold  them  the 
town  lots.  This  place  was  afterward  called 
Nauvoo,  "the  beautiful  site,"  and  soon 
numbered  thousands  of  souls ;  the  build- 
ing of  the  famous  temple  was  commenced 
the  next  year.  Polygamy  dates  from 
about  this  time,  being  authorized  as 
Smith's  privilege,  according  to  a  "  revela- 
tion" received  by  him.  Smith  was  re- 
peatedly arrested  in  1842-3-4,  on  charges 
of  murder,  treason,  and  adultery,  but 
managed  either  to  escape  or  be  acquitted, 
until  the  fatal  summer  of  1844.  The 
greatest  crimes  charged  against  him  were 
those  testified  to  by  some  of  his  once 
devoted  but  afterwards  disgusted  and 
seceding  disciples,  and  who  would  have 
been  glad  to  execute  summary  vengeance 
upon  his  head. 

The  exasperation  produced  by  the  Mor- 
mons murdering  Lieutenant  Governor 
Boggs  (under  Governor  Dunklin),  of  Mis- 
souri, in  May,  1843,  was  widespread  and 
most  intense,  and  the  swarming  of  the 
sect  into  Illinois,  caused  the  inhabitants  of 
the  latter  to  arm  themselves.  Governor 
Ford,  of  Illinois,  persuaded  the  Smiths, 
under  pledge  of  his  word,  to  yield  up  their 
arms,  and  sent  them  prisoners,  under 
the  charge  of  sixty  militia  men,  to  Car- 
thage. Here  the  prisoners  were  at  once 
arrested  for  treason.  Instead  of  being 
confined  in  cells,  the  two  Smiths,  at  the 
instance  of  their  friends,  were  put  into 
the  debtors'  room  of  the  prison,  and  a 
guard  assigned  for  their  security.  But, 
on  the  27th  of  June,  1844,  a  large  body 
of  exasperated  and  lawless  men,  with  their 
faces  painted  and  blackened,  broke  into 
the  jail,  and  summarily  killed  both  Joseph 


220 


RISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


and  Hyrum  Smith,  and  instantly  fled.  In 
his  struggle  against  the  mob,  the  prophet 
attempted,  as  a  last  resort,  to  leap  from  the 
window,  when  two  balls  pierced  him  from 
the  door,  one  of  which  entered  his  right 
breast,  and  he  staggered  lifeless,  exclaim- 
ing, '  0  Lord,  my  God!'  He  fell  on  his 
left  side,  a  dead  man.  The  excitement  in 
all  parts  of  the  west,  following  this  event, 
was  tremendous. 

An  address  was  now  sent  forth  to  "all 
the  saints  in  the  world,"  announcing,  with 
lamentations,  the  death  of  "the  Lord's 
Prophet."  Brigham  Young,  a  native  of 
Whittingham,  Vt.,  succeeded  to  the  presi- 
dency, thus  defeating  Rigdon,  who  claimed 
the  office,  but  who  was  forthwith  cut  off, 
and  delivered  over  to  the  'buffetings  of 
Satan.'  The  next  great  step  was  the 
abandonment  of  Nauvoo,  on  account  of  the 
bitter  hostility  of  the  Illinoisians  to  the 
existence  of  Mormonism  in  their  midst. 
Nauvoo  was  a  city  regularly  laid  out  with 
broad  streets  crossing  at  right  angles,  and 
the  houses  were  built  generally  of  logs, 
with  a  few  frame  and  brick  buildings 
interspersed.  A  temple,  one  hundred  and 
thirty  feet  long  by  ninety  wide,  was 


MORMON  TEMPLE. 


erected  of  polished  limestone ;  the  bap- 
tistry was  in  the  basement,  and  held  a 
large  stone  basin  supported  by  twelve 
colossal  oxen.  In  1848,  this  building  was 
set  on  fire  by  an  incendiary,  and  all  con- 
sumed except  the  walls,  which  were  finally 
destroyed  by  a  tornado,  in  1850. 

The   valley  of  the   Great  Salt  Lake,  in 
Utah,    now  became   the   new   "promised 


land  "  of  the  exiled  Mormons,  and,  cross- 
ing the  frozen  Mississippi  in  the  winter  of 
1846,  the  exodus   began  ;  in  the  summer 
ensuing,     they     commenced    io    lay     the 
foundations  of  the  city, — the  "  New  Jeru- 
salem."    Soon  after,  the  whole  of  this  vast 
region  was  surveyed  by  Messrs.  Stansbury 
and    Gunnison,   by    order   of   the    federal 
government,  and  a  bill  organizing  Utah 
into  a  Territory  having  been  signed  by 
President  Pillmore,  Brigham  Young  was 
appointed  governor,  and  thus  became  the 
supreme  head  of    the   church   and   state. 
He  has  ruled  with  consummate  tact  and 
success,    overcoming   all   opposition   from 
"  Gentile  "  sources,  and  even,  keeping  at 
bay  the  national  government    itself.     He 
declared,  "  /  am,  and  will  be,  governor, 
and  no  power  on  earth  can  hinder  it,  until 
the  Lord  Almighty  says,  '  Briyham,  you 
need  not  be  governor  any  longer.' "     Under 
his  teachings  and  practice,  polygamy  be- 
came firmly  established  and  universal,  the 
prohibitory  laws  of  the  United   States  in 
this    matter   being    openly    defied.      His 
conduct  he  defended  in  powerful  harangues 
to  the  faithful,  who  were  always  ready,  at 
the  word  of  command,  to  fight  or  murder, 
in  behalf  of  their  political  a*)d  spiritual 
chief,    if    occasion   required.       Their  sec- 
tarian literature  has  been  very  voluminous, 
and  has  appeared  in  almost  every  language ; 
for   even   in   the  old  world  —  throughout 
Europe,  as  also  in  Asia,  Africa,  Australia, ' 
and  Polynesia, — scores  of  thousands  of  the 
simple-minded  have  become  dupes  of  the 
itinerant  impostors  sent  forth  from  head- 
quarters to  convert  the  "  gentile  "  world. 
Of  Young,   personally,  the    description 
usually   given    is    that    of  a   man   rather 
above  the  medium  height  and    somewhat 
corpulent,  with   a  face  indicative  of  pene- 
tration and  firmness  ;    hair  parted  on  the 
side,  and  reaching  below  the  ears  with  a 
half  curl ;  the  forehead    somewhat  narrow, 
thin  eyebrows,  the  eyes  between  gray  and 
blue,  with   a  calm,    composed,   and   some- 
what reserved   expression  ;   nose,  fine  and 
sharp-pointed,  and  bent  a  little  to  the  left; 
lips   close,   the    lower   one    evincing    the 
sensual  voluptuary;  cheeks  rather  fleshy, 


EISE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  THE  MORMONS. 


221 


SALT   LAKE  CITY,  THE   MORMON  ZION. 


the  side  line  between  the  nose  and 
the  mouth  considerably  broken,  and  the 
chin  peaked  ;  hands  well  made  ;  the  whole 
figure  large,  broad-shouldered,  and  stoop- 
ing a  little  when  standing.  In  dress,  no 
Quaker  could  be  neater  or  plainer, — all 
gray  homespun,  except  the  cravat  and 
waistcoat ;  the  coat  of  antique  cut,  and, 
like  the  pantaloons,  baggy,  and  the  but- 
tons black ;  a  neck-tie  of  dark  silk,  with 
a  large  bow,  was  loosely  passed  around  a 
gtarchless  collar,  which  turned  down  of  its 
own  accord ;  the  -waistcoat  of  black  satin 
— once  an  article  of  almost  national  dress 
— single-breasted,  and  buttoned  nearly  to 
the  neck,  and  a  plain  gold  chain  passed 
into  the  pocket.  In  manner,  affable  and 
impressive,  simple  and  courteous,  exciting 
in  strangers  a  consciousness  of  his  power. 
The  number  of  his  wives  was  never  known 
by  any  person  but  himself ;  and  the  multi- 
tude of  his  children,  thus  born  into  the 
world,  constituted  his  chief  boast.  Those 
who  would  like  to  know  more  of  the 
details  of  a  Mormon  prophet's  harem  will 
find  them  amply  portrayed  in  the  works 
of  Burton,  Ferris,  Waite,  Bowles,  Colfax, 
and  other  travelers  in  that  region. 

Salt  Lake  City,  about  two  thousand 
miles  west  of  New  York,  is  situated  on 
the  east  bank  of  the  river  Jordan,  a  stream 
which  connects  Great  Salt  Lake  and  Lake 
Utah  ;  it  is  separated  as  well  from  the 
western  frontier  as  from  the  Pacific  coast, 
by  dreary,  timberless  prairies,  sand  plains, 
and  high  mountains,  the  mountains  on 
the  east  side  being  covered  with  perpetual 


snow,  and  their  summits  are  nearly  two 
miles  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Thus, 
the  Mormons  form  an  isolated  people, 
and  their  home  is  almost  shut  out  from 
the  rest  of  mankind.  The  city  was  laid 
out  so  as  to  contain  two  hundred  and 
sixty  blocks  of  ten  acres  each,  divided 
into  eight  lots  and  four  public  squares  ; 
the  streets,  one  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
feet  wide,  and  a  stream  of  water  flowing 
through  each,  for  the  purpose  of  irrigat- 
ing the  gardens ;  and  the  squares  being 
adorned  with  trees  from  the  four  quarters 
of  the  globe,  and  adorned  with  fountains. 
The  houses  are  built  of  sun-dried  brick, 
and  are  generally  small  and  of  one  story, 
with  separate  entrances  where  there  are 
several  wives.  The  great  temple,  built  in 
the  Gothic  style,  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long  and  sixty  feet  wide.  One  of  the 
largest  buildings  is  the  tithing-house, 
where  is  deposited  one-tenth  of  all  the 
products  of  the  territory  for  the  benefit 
of  the  church.  Almost  "  all  the  authorities 
of  Zion "  live  in  this,  the  great  city 
thereof,  with  families  comprising  from 
twenty-five  to  two  wives  each,  and  there 
are  many  more  girls  than  boys  born.  The 
population  is  composed  largely  of  English, 
Scotch,  Welsh  and  Danes.  In  the  taber- 
nacle, a  large  public  building,  the  people 
assemble  on  the  Sabbath,  to  hear  the 
Mormon  gospel  preached  by  the  prophet 
and  his  coadjutors.  In  another  building, 
called  the  Endowment  House,  the  secret 
orders,  sacred  ordinances,  and  solemn  mys- 
teries of  Mormonism  are  administered. 


XXVII. 

CAREER,    CAPTURE,    AND    EXECUTION    OF    GIBBS,   THE 
MOST    NOTED    PIRATE    OF   THE    CENTURY.— 1831. 


His  Bold,  Enterprising,  Desperate,  and  Successful  War,  for  Many  Years,  Against  the  Commerce  of  all 
Nations. — Terror  inspired  by  His  Name  as  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean  and  the  Enemy  of  Mankind. — 
Scores  of  Vessels  Taken,  Plundered,  and  Destroyed. — Their  Crews  and  Passengers,  Male  and  Female, 
Instantly  Butchered. — Gibbs  Born  in  Rhode  Island  — Joins  the  Privateer  Maria. — Captures  Her  in  a 
Mutiny. — Hoists  the  Black  Flag. — Gibbs  Chosen  Leader. — Rendezvous  at  Cape  Antonio. — Booty 
Sold  in  Havana. — No  Lives  Spared. — One  Beautiful  Girl  Excepted. — Atrocious  Use  Made  of  Her. — 
The  Maria  Chased  All  Day. — Her  Final  Abandonment. — A  New  Craft:  Rich  Prizes — Fight  with  a 
United  States  Frigate. — Gibbs  Overmatched  and  Flees — Fatal  Voyage  in  the  Vineyard. — Lands  at 
Southampton,  L.  I. — His  Infamy  Brought  to  Light. — Arrested  With  His  Treasure. — Confession  of 
His  Guilt.— Black  Record  of  Crime  and  Blood.— Close  of  Hi»  Ill-S tarred  Life. 


•'  Leading  a  pirate's  crew, 
O'er  the  dark  pea  I  flow. 
Wild  wn«  the  life  we  led. 
Many  the  eouls  that  Bped. 
Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 

By  our  Btern  ordert." 


APPEAL  OF  A  GIEL  TO  GIBBS  TO  SPABB  HER  LIFE. 


OX/WITHSTANDING  a  new  generation 
has  come  upon  the  stage  of  human  af- 
fairs, since  "  GIBBS,  the  pirate,"  startled 
the   world   by   his   bold   and   atrocious 
career  on  the  high  seas,  his  deeds  are 
still  read  of,  rehearsed,  and  listened  to, 
\     with  the  same  wondering  interest  and 
involuntary  shudder,,  as  when,    in    the 
days  of  their  actual  occurrence,  they  broke 
fresh  upon  the  ears  of  an  astonished  and 
outraged  community ; — a  career  which,  in 
spite  of  the  destiny  that  inevitably  awaits 
such  a  course  of  crime  against  mankind, 
seemed  for  years  to  defy  and  baffle  all  the 
efforts  of  pursuit  and  of  retributive  justice. 
From  the  various  accessible  resources  of 
information     concerning     this     notorious 
adept  in  piracy  and  blood,  it  appears  that 
his  native  place  was  Providence,  R.  I.,  his 
real  name,  James  D.  Jeffers,  having  been 
given  up,  and  that  of  Charles  Gibbs  sub- 
stituted.    Bearing  this  name,  at  the  very 


CAREER  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  PIRATE. 


223 


mention  of  which  mankind  would  after- 
wards shudder,  he  became,  in  the  widest 
and  most  ghastly  sense  of  the  term,  ever 
applied  to  man,  the  Scourge  of  the  Ocean. 

In  November,  1830,  there  sailed  from 
New  Orleans  for  Philadelphia,  the  brig 
Vineyard,  Captain  William  Thornby,  with 
William  Roberts  as  mate,  and  the  follow- 
ing crew :  Charles  Gibbs,  John  Brownrigg, 
Robert  Dawes,  Henry  Atwell,  James 
Talbot,  A.  Church,  and  Thomas  I.  Wans- 
ley,  a  young  negro  native  of  Delaware, 
who  acted  as  cook.  When  the  Vinej'ard 
had  been  five  days  at  sea,  Wansley  made  it 
known  to  the  crew  that  there  were  fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  specie  on  board.  This 
information  excited  their  cupidity,  and 
induced  them  to  secretly  consult  as  to 
whether  and  how  they  could  get  the  money 
into  their  own  hands.  Many  conversa- 
tions took  place  on  the  subject,  and  while 
these  were  going  on,  Dawes,  who  was  a 
mere  boy,  was  sent  to  converse  with  the 
officers,  in  order  to  divert  their  attention 
from  what  was  passing. 

Finally,  the  resolution  was  taken,  that 
as  the  master  and  mate  were  old  men,  it 
was  time  they  should  die  and  make  room 
for  the  rising  generation.  Moreover,  they 
were  of  the  opinion  that  as  the  mate  was 
of  a  peevish  disposition,  he  deserved  death. 
It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  Brown- 
rigg or  Talbot  had  any  part  in  these  plans, 
or  in  the  foul  deed  that  resulted  from 
them.  The  conspirators  agreed  to  commit 
the  fiendish  crimes  of  murder  and  piracy, 
on  the  night  of  the  twenty-third.  The 
murder  of  the  master  was,  by  agreement, 
to  Gibbs  and  Wansley,  and  that  of  the 
mate  to  Atwell  and  Church.  This  plan 
was  carried  out. 

The  pirates  took  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  Wansley  busied  himself  in  wiping  up 
the  blood  that  had  been  spilled  on  deck, 
declaring,  with  an  oath,  that  though  he 
had  heard  that  the  stains  of  the  blood  of  a 
murdered  person  could  not  be  effaced,  he 
would  wipe  away  these.  Then,  after 
drinking  all  round,  they  got  up  the  money. 
It  was  distributed  in  equal  portions  to  all 
on  board;  Brownrigg  and  Talbot  being 


assured  that,  if  they  would  keep  the  secret, 
and  share  the  plunder,  they  should  receive 
no  injury. 

They  then  steered  a  north-easterly 
course  toward  Long  Island,  till  they  came 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  of  South- 
ampton light,  where  they  resolved  to  leave 
the  vessel  and  take  to  the  boats,  though 
the  wind  was  blowing  very  hard.  Atwell 
scuttled  the  brig  and  got  into  the  jolly- 
boat  with  Church  and  Talbot,  while 
Gibbs,  Wanslej',  Dawes,  and  Brownrigg, 
put  off  in  the  long-boat.  The  jolly-boat 
swamped  on  a  bar  two  miles  from  the 
shore,  and  all  on  board  were  drowned. 
The  long-boat  was  also  in  great  danger, 
and  was  only  saved  from  a  like  fate  by 
throwing  over  several  bags  of  specie.  Nev- 
ertheless, the  crew  at  last  got  on  shore  at 
Pelican  Island,  where  they  buried  their 
money,  and  found  a  sportsman  who  told 
them  where  they  were.  They  then  crossed 
to  Great  Barn  Island,  and  went  to  the 
house  of  a  Mr.  Johnson,  to  whom  Brown- 
rigg gave  the  proper  information.  Thence 
they  went  to  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Leonard, 
where  they  procured  a  wagon  to  carry 
them  farther.  As  they  were  about  to  get 
in,  Brownrigg  cried  aloud  that  they  might 
go  where  they  pleased,  but  he  would  not 
accompany  them,  for  they  were  murderers. 
On  hearing  this,  Mr.  Leonard  obtained  the 
presence  of  a  magistrate,  and  Gibbs  and 
Dawes  were  apprehended.  Wansley  es- 
caped into  the  woods,  but  was  followed 
and  soon  taken.  The  maritime,  and 
indeed  the  whole  civilized  world,  breathed 
freer,  when  the  news  spread  abroad  of  the 
great  pirate's  capture. 

The  evidence  of  the  guilt  of  the  accused 
was  full  and  conclusive.  Their  own  con- 
fession of  the  crime,  voluntarily  made  to 
Messrs.  Merritt  and  Stevenson,  who  had 
the  custody  of  them  from  Flatbush  to  New 
York,  could  have  left  not  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt  on  the  mind  of  any  person  who  heard 
the  testimony  of  those  officers.  Wansley 
told  the  whole  story,  occasionally  prompted 
by  Gibbs;  and  while  both  admitted  that 
Brownrigg  was  innocent,  their  confession 
was  not  so  favorable  as  to  Dawes. 


224 


CAREER  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  PIRATE. 


Gibbs  was  arraigned  for  the  murder  of 
William  Roberts,  and  Wansley  for  that  of 
Captain  Thornby,  and,  being  found  guilty, 
judgment  in  accordance  with  the  law  was 
pronounced.  During  the  trial,  the  iron 
visage  of  Gibbs  was  occasionally  changed 
by  a  transient  emotion  ;  he  had  evidently 
abandoned  all  hope  of  escape,  and  sat  the 
greater  part  of  his  time  with  his  hands 
between  his  knees,  calmly  surveying  the 
scene  before  him.  Wansley  was  more 
agitated,  and  trembled  visibly  when  he 
rose  to  hear  the  verdict  of  the  jury. 

And  now,  as  was  to  be  expected,  there 
was  revealed  the  bloody  annals  of  Gibbs's 
ill-starred  career. 


PIRATE  GIBBS. 


It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  1813,  that 
he  entered  on  board  a  ship  bound  to  New 
Orleans  and  thence  to  Stockholm.  On  the 
homeward  passage  they  were  forced  to  put 
into  Bristol,  England,  in  distress,  where 
the  ship  was  condemned,  and  he  proceeded 
to  Liverpool.  He  returned  to  the  United 
States  in  the  ship  Amity,  Captain  Max- 
well. Shortly  after  his  arrival  home,  the 
death  of  an  uncle  put  him  in  possession 
of  about  two  thousand  dollars,  with  which 
he  established  himself  in  the  grocery  busi- 
ness in  Boston,  an  undertaking  which  did 
not  prove  profitable,  so  that  he  was  often 
under  the  necessity  of  applying  to  his 
father  for  assistance,  which  was  always 
afforded,  together  with  the  best  advice. 
The  stock  was  finally  sold  at  auction,  for 
about  nine  hundred  dollars,  which  he  soon 
squandered  in  tippling-houses  and  among 
profligates.  His  father,  hearing  of  his 
dissipation,  wrote  affectionately  to  him  to 
come  home,  but  he  stubbornly  refused,  and 
again  turned  his  attention  to  the  sea. 


Sailing  in  the  ship  John,  Captain  Brown, 
bound  for  the  island  of  Margaretta,  he 
left  the  ship  soon  after  its  arrival  at  that 
place,  and  entered  on  board  the  Colombian 
privateer  Maria,  Captain  Bell.  They 
cruised  for  about  two  months  in  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico,  around  Cuba,  but  the  crew 
becoming  dissatisfied  in  consequence  of 
the  non-payment  of  their  prize-money,  a 
mutiny  arose,  the  crew  took  possession  ef 
the  schooner,  and  landed  the  officers  near 
Pensacola.  A  number  of  days  elapsed 
before  it  was  finally  decided  by  them  what 
course  to  pursue.  Some  advised  that  they 
should  cruise  as  before,  under  the  Colom- 
bian commission;  others  proposed  to  hoist 
the  black  flag.  They  cruised  for  a  short 
time  without  success,  and  it  was  then 
unanimously  determined  to  hoist  the  black 
flay,  and  wage  war  against  the  commerce 
of  all  nations.  Their  bloody  purpose, 
however,  was  not  carried  into  full  and 
immediate  execution;  for,  though  they 
boarded  a  number  of  vessels,  they  allowed 
them  to  pass  unmolested,  there  being  no 
specie  on  board,  and  their  cargoes  not 
being  convertible  into  anything  valuable 
to  themselves. 

At  last,  one  of  the  crew,  named  Anto- 
nio, suggested  that  an  arrangement  could 
be  made  with  a  man  in  Havana,  that 
would  be  mutually  beneficial ;  that  he 
would  receive  all  their  goods,  sell  them, 
and  divide  the  proceeds.  This  plan  being 
received  favorably,  they  ran  up  within 
two  miles  of  Moro  Castle,  and  sent  Anto- 
nio on  shore  to  see  the  merchant  and  make 
a  contract  with  him.  Previous  to  this, 
Gibbs  was  chosen  to  navigate  the  vessel. 
Antonio  succeeded  in  arranging  every- 
thing according  to  their  wishes,  and  Cape 
Antonio  was  appointed  to  be  the  place  of 
rendezvous.  The  merchant  was  to  furnish 
facilities  for  transporting  the  goods  to 
Havana,  which  he  did  for  more  than  three 
years. 

The  Maria  now  put  to  sea,  with  a  crew 
of  about  fifty  men,  mostly  Spaniards  and 
Americans,  with  every  expectation  of  suc- 
cess. The  first  vessel  she  fell  in  with  was 
the  Indispensable,  an  English  ship  bound 


CAREER  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  PIRATE. 


225 


to  Havana,  which  was  taken  and  carried 
to  Cape  Antonio.  The  crew  were  imme- 
diately destroyed  ;  those  who  resisted  were 
hacked  to  pieces;  those  who  offered  no 
resistance  were  reserved  to  be  shot  and 
thrown  overboard.  The  maxitn  to  which 
they  scrupulously  adhered,  was,  that  'dead 
-men  tell  no  tales'  According  to  Gibbs's 
•statement,  he  never  had  occasion  to  give 
orders  to  begin  the  work  of  death.  The 
Spaniards  were  eager  to  accomplish  that 
object  without  delay,  and  generally  every 
unhappy  victim  disappeared  in  a  very  feiv 
minutes  after  the  pirates'  feet  trod  the 
deck  of  the  fated  vessel. 

Gibbs  now  directed  his  course  towards 
the  Bahama  Banks,  where  they  captured  a 
brig,  believed  to  be  the  William,  of  New 
York,  from  some  port  in  Mexico,  with  a 
cargo  of  furniture,  destroyed  the  crew,  took 
the  vessel  to  Cape  Antonio,  and  sent  the 
furniture  and  other  articles  to  their  accom- 
plice in  Havana.  Sometime  during  this 
cruise,  the  pirate  was  chased  for  nearly  a 
whole  day,  by  a  United  States  frigate, 
supposed  to  be  the  John  Adams;  he 
hoisted  patriot  colors,  and  finally  escaped. 
In  the  early  part  of  the  summer  of  1817, 
they  took  the  Earl  of  Moria,  an  English 
ship  from  London,  with  a  cargo  of  dry- 
goods.  The  crew  were  destroyed,  the 
vessel  burnt,  and  the  goods  carried  to  the 
Cape ;  here  the  pirates  had  a  settlement 
with  their  Havana  agent,  and  the  proceeds 
were  divided  according  to  agreement. 
Gibbs  repaired  personally  to  Havana,  in- 
troduced himself  to  the  merchant,  and 
made  arrangements  for  the  successful  pros- 
ecution of  his  piracies.  While  there,  he 
became  acquainted  with  many  of  the  En- 
glish and  American  naval  officers,  and, 
adroitly  concealing  his  own  character  and 
calling,  inquired  respecting  the  success  of 
their  various  expeditions  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  piracy,  and  all  their  intended 
movements ! 

On  the  return  to  Cape  Antonio,  Gibbs 
found  his  comrades  in  a  state  of  mutiny 
and  rebellion,  and  that  several  of  them  had 
been  killed.  His  energy  checked  the  dis- 
turbance, and  all  agreed  to  submit  to  his 
15 


orders,  and   put  any   one   to   death   who 
should  dare  to  disobey  them. 

During  the  cruise  which  was  made  in 
the  latter  part  of  1817  and  the  beginning 
of  1818,  a  Dutch  ship  from  Curacoa  was 
captured,  with  a  cargo  of  West  India 
goods,  and  a  quantity  of  silver  plate.  The 
passengers  and  crew,  to  the  number  of 
thirty,  were  all  killed,  with  the  exception 
of  a  young  and  beautiful  female,  about 
seventeen,  who,  in  the  midst  of  the  awful 
scene  of  death-blows  and  shrieks  and  man- 
gled corpses,  kneeled  upon  the  gory  deck, 
and  piteously  implored  Gibbs  to  save  her 
life!  The  appeal  was  successful;  and  he 
promised  to  save  her,  though  he  knew  it 
would  lead  to  dangerous  consequences 
among  his  crew.  She  was  carried  to  Cape 
Antonio,  and  kept  there  about  two  months ; 
but  the  dissatisfaction  increased  until  it 
broke  out  at  last  into  open  mutiny,  and 
one  of  the  pirates  was  shot  by  Gibbs  for 
daring  to  lay  hold  of  her  with  a  view  to 
beating  out  her  brains.  Gibbs  was  com- 
pelled, however,  in  the  end,  to  submit  her 
fate  to  a  council  of  war,  at  which  it  was 
decided  that  the  preservation  of  their  own 
lives  made  her  sacrifice  indispensable.  He 
therefore  acquiesced  in  the  decision,  and 
gave  orders  to  have  her  destroyed  by 
poison,  which  was  immediately  adminis- 
tered to  her,  and  thus  the  young,  beautiful, 
and  unfortunate  creature  was  launched 
into  the  other  world. 

Shortly  after  this,  the  piratical  schooner 
was  driven  ashore  near  the  Cape,  and  so 
much  damaged  that  it  was  found  necessary 
to  destroy  her.  A  new,  sharp-built 
schooner  was  in  consequence  provided  by 
their  faithful  ally  in  Havana,  called  the 
Picciana,  and  dispatched  to  their  rendez- 
vous. 

In  this  vessel,  they  cruised  successfully 
for  more  than  four  years.  Among  the 
vessels  taken  and  destroyed  —  and  their 
crews  and  passengers  remorselessly  hurried 
into  eternity — were  the  Belvidere,  Dido,  a 
Dutch  brig,  the  British  barque  Larch,  and 
many  others. 

Gibbs  further  stated  that  he  had  been 
concerned  in  robbing  forty  different  ves- 


226 


CAJiEEIt  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  P1KATE. 


GIBBS   BUTCifEKIXG  THE  CREW  OF  ONE  OF  HIS    PHIZES. 


sels.  He  gave  the  names  of  upwards  of  a 
score  of  vessels  taken  by  the  pirates  under 
his  command,  the  crews  of  which  had  been 
murdered. 

Sometime  in  the  course  of  the  year 
1819,  Gibbs  left  Havana  for  the  United 
States,  carrying  with  him  about  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  He  passed  several 
weeks  in  New  York,  and  then  went  to 
Boston,  whence  he  took  passage  for  Liver- 
pool, in  the  ship  Emerald.  Before  he 
sailed,  however,  he  had  squandered  a  large 
part  of  his  money  in  dissipation  and  gam- 
bling. He  Remained  in  Liverpool  a  few 
months,  and  then  returned  to  Boston  iii 
the  ship  Topaz.  His  residence  in  Liver- 


pool, at  that  time,  was  testified  to  by  a 
female  in  New  York,  who  was  well 
acquainted  with  him  there,  and  where,  as 
she  stated,  he  lived  like  a  wealthy  gentle- 
man. In  speaking  of  his  acquaintance 
with  this  female,  Gibbs  said  : 

"  I  fell  in  with  a  woman,  who,  I  thought, 
was  all  virtue,  but  she  deceived  me,  and  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  a  heart  that  never 
felt  abashed  at  scenes  of  carnage  and 
blood,  was  made  a  child  of,  for  a  time,  by 
her,  and  I  gave  way  to  dissipation  and 
torment.  How  often,  when  the  fumes  of 
liquor  have  subsided,  have  I  thought  of 
my  good  and  affectionate  parents,  and  of 
their  godly  advice !  But  when  the  little 


CAREER  OF  GIBBS,  THE  NOTED  PIRATE. 


227 


monitor  began  to  move  within  me,  I  imme- 
diately seized  the  cup  to  hide  myself  from 
myself,  and  drank  until  the  sense  of  intoxi- 
cation was  renewed.  My  friends  advised 
me  to  behave  like  a  man,  and  promised  me 
their  assistance,  but  the  demon  still 
haunted  me,  and  I  spurned  their  advice." 

He  readily  admitted  his  participation  in 
the  Vineyard  mutiny,  revolt  and  robbery, 
and  in  the  murder  of  Thornby  ;  and,  so 
impressed  was  he  with  the  universal  detes- 
tation and  horror  which  his  heinous  crimes 
had  excited  against  him,  that  he  often 
inquired  if  he  should  not  be  murdered  in 
the  streets,  in  case  he  had  his  liberty,  and 
was  recognized.  He  would  also  frequently 
exclaim,  '•  Oh,  if  I  had  got  into  Algiers, 
I  should  never  have  been  in  this  prison, 
to  be  hung  for  murder  !  " 

Though  he  gave  no  evidence  of  contri- 
tion for  the  horrible  and  multiplied  crimes 
of  which  he  confessed  himself  guilty,  yet 
he  evidently  dwelt  upon  their  recollection 
with  great  unwillingness.  If  a  question 
was  asked  him,  in  regard  to  how  the  crews 
were  generally  destroyed,  he  answered 
quickly  and  briefly,  and  instantly  changed 
the  topic  either  to  the  circumstances 
attending  his  trial,  or  to  his  exploits  in 
Buenos  Ayres.  On  being  asked  why  with 
such  cruelty  he  killed  so  many  persons, 
after  getting  all  their  money,  which  was 
all  he  wanted,  he  replied  that  the  laws 
themselves  were  responsible  for  so  many 
murders ;  that,  by  those  laws,  a  man  has 
to  suffer  death  for  piracy,  and  the  punish- 
ment for  murder  is  no  more, — besides,  all 
witnesses  are  out  of  the  way,  and,  conse- 
quently, if  the  punishment  was  different, 
there  would  not  be  so  many  murders. 

On  Friday,  April  twenty-second,  1831, 


Gibbs  and  Wansley  paid  the  penalty  of 
their  crimes.  Both  prisoners  arrived  at 
the  gallows  about  twelve  o'clock,  accom- 
panied by  the  marshal,  his  aids,  and  a 
body  of  United  States  marines.  Two 
clergymen  attended  them  to  the  fatal  spot, 
where,  everything  being  in  readiness,  the 
ropes  were  adjusted  about  their  necks,  and 
prayers  offered.  Gibbs  addressed  the 
spectators,  acknowledging  the  heinousness 
of  his  career,  and  adding — 

"  Should  any  of  the  friends  of  those 
whom  I  have  been  accessory  to,  or  engaged 
in,  the  murder  of,  be  now  present,  before 
my  Maker  I  beg  their  forgiveness — it  is 
the  only  boon  I  ask — and,  as  I  hope  for 
pardon  through  the  blood  of  Christ,  surely 
this  request  will  not  be  withheld  by  man, 
from  a  worm,  like  myself,  standing,  as  I 
do,  on  the  very  verge  of  eternity !  An- 
other moment,  and  I  cease  to  exist — and 
could  I  find  in  my  bosom  room  to  imagine 
that  the  spectators  now  assembled  had 
forgiven  me,  the  scaffold  would  have  no 
terrors.  My  first  crime  was  piracy,  for 
which  my  life  would  pay  the  forfeit  on 
conviction;  no  punishment  could  be 
inflicted  on  me  farther  than  that,  and 
therefore  I  had  nothing  to  fear  but  detec- 
tion, for  had  my  offenses  been  millions  of 
times  more  aggravated  than  they  now  are, 
death  must  have  satisfied  all." 

Gibbs  shook  hands  with  Wansley,  the 
officers  and  clergymen,  the  caps  were  then 
drawn  over  the  faces  of  the  two  criminals, 
and  a  handkerchief  dropped  by  Gibbs  as  a 
signal  to  the  executioner  caused  the  cord 
to  be  severed,  and  in  an  instant  they  were 
suspended  in  air.  Wansley  expired  with 
only  a  few  slight  struggles.  Gibbs  died 
hard. 


XXVIII. 

SUBLIME  METEORIC   SHOWER  ALL  OVER  THE  UNITED 

STATES.— 1833. 


The  Most  Grand  and  Brilliant  Celestial  Phenomenon  Ever  Beheld  and  Recorded  by  Man.— The  Whole 
Firmament  of  the  Universe  in  Fiery  Commotion  for  Several  Hours. — Amazing  Velocity,  Size,  and 
Profusion  of  the  Falling  Bodies. — Their  Intense  Heat,  Vivid  Colors,  and  Strange,  Glowing  Beauty. — 
Unequaled  in  Every  Respect. — Cloudless  Serenity  of  the  Sky. — The  People  Wonder-Struck.— 
Admiration  Among  the  Intelligent. — Alarm  Among  the  Ignorant — Conflagration  of  the  World 
Feared. — Impromptu  Prayer-Meetings. — Prodigious  Star-Shower  at  Boston. — Myriads  of  Blood-Red 
Fire-Balls. — The  Display  at  Niagara  Falls. — Blazing  Heavens,  Roaring  Cataracts. — Some  of  the 
Meteors  Explode.— Trains  of  Light  in  their  Track.— Radiant  Prismatic  Hues.— Substance  Compos- 
ing these  Bodies. — Dissipated  by  Bursting. — One  Great  Central  Source. — Velocity,  Four  Miles  a 
Second. — Novel  Shapes  and  Motions. — Hotter  than  the  Hottest  Furnace.— Possible  Result  to  th« 
Earth. — Half  a  Continent  in  Presumed  Jeopardy. 


"  the  sanguine  flood 

Boiled  n  broad  slaughter  o'er  the  plains  of  heaven, 
And  nature's  self  did  seem  to  totter  on  the  brink  of  lima." 


^TENSIVE  and  magnificent  showers  of  shooting  stars  have  been  known 
to  occur  at  various  places  in  modern  times  ;  but  the  most  universal  and 
wonderful  which  has  ever  been  recorded  is  that 
of  the  thirteenth  of  November,  1833,  the  whole 
firmament,  over  all  the  United  States,  being 
then,  for  hours,  in  fiery  commotion  !  No  celestial 
phenomenon  has  ever  occurred  in  this  country,  since 
its  first  settlement,  which  was  viewed  with  such  in- 
tense admiration  by  one  class  in  the  community,  or 
with  so  much  dread  and  alarm  by  another.  It  was 
the  all-engrossing  theme  of  conversation  and  of 
scientific  disquisition,  for  weeks  and  months.  In- 
deed, it  could  not  be  otherwise,  than  that  such  a 
rare  phenomenon, — next  in  grandeur  and  sublimity 
to  that  of  a  total  solar  eclipse,  or  a  great  comet 
stretched  athwart  the  starry  heavens,  in  full  view 
of  a  wonder-struck  universe, — should  awaken  the 
deepest  interest  among  all  beholding  it.  Nor  is  the 
memory  of  this  marvelous  scene  yet  extinct ;  its 
sublimity  and  awful  beauty  still  linger  in  many  minds,  who  also  remember  well  the 
terror  with  which  the  demonstration  was  regarded,  and  the  mortal  fear  excited  among 
the  ignorant  that  the  end  of  the  world  had  come.  During  the  three  hours  of  its  con- 


METEORIC   SHOWER  AT  BOSTON. 


SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER. 


229 


tinuance,  the  day  of  judgment  was  be- 
lieved to  be  only  waiting  for  sunrise,  and, 
long  after  the  shower  had  ceased,  the 
morbid  and  superstitious  still  were  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  the  final  day 
was  at  least  only  a  week  ahead.  Impromptu 
meetings  for  prayer  were  held  in  many 
places,  and  many  other  scenes  of  religious 
devotion,  or  terror,  or  abandonment  of 
worldly  affairs,  transpired,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  fear  occasioned  by  so  sudden 
and  awful  a  display. 

But,  though  in  many  districts  the  mass 
of  the  population  were  thus  panic-stricken, 
through  fear,  as  well  as  want  of  familiarity 
with  the  history  of  such  appearances,  the 
more  enlightened  were  profoundly  awed 
at  contemplating  so  vivid  a  picture  of  the 
apocalyptic  image — that  of  'the  stars  of 
heaven  falling  to  the  earth,  even  as  a  fig 
tree  casting  her  untimely  figs,  when  she  is 
shaken  of  a  mighty  wind.'  In  describing 
the  effect  of  this  phenomenon  upon  the 
black  population,  a  southern  planter  says : 

'I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  the  most 
distressing  cries  that  ever  fell  on  my  ears. 
Shrieks  of  horror  and  cries  for  mercy, 
could  be  heard  from  most  of  the  negroes  of 
three  plantations,  amounting  in  all  to  some 
six  or  eight  hundred.  While  earnestly 
and  breathlessly  listening  for  the  cause,  I 
heard  a  faint  voice  near  the  door  calling 
my  name.  I  arose,  and,  taking  my  sword, 
stood  at  the  door.  At  this  moment  I 
heard  the  same  voice  still  beseeching  me 
to  rise,  and  saying,  "  0,  my  God,  the  world 
is  on  fire!  "  I  then  opened  the  door,  and 
it  is  difficult  to  say  which  excited  me  most 
— the  awfulness  of  the  scene,  or  the  dis- 
tressed cries  of  the  negroes.  Upwards  of 
one  hundred  lay  prostrate  on  the  ground, 
some  speechless,  and  others  uttering  the 
bitterest  moans,  but  with  their  hands 
raised,  imploring  God  to  save  the  world 
and  them.  The  scene  was  truly  awful,  for 
never  did  rain  fall  much  thicker  than  the 
meteors  fell  towards  the  earth ;  east,  west, 
north,  and  south,  it  was  the  same.'  In  a 
word,  the  whole  heavens  seemed  in  motion. 

The  display,  as  described  in  Professor 
Silliman's  Journal,  was  seen  all  over  North 


America.  The  chief  scene  of  the  exhibi- 
tion was  within  the  limits  of  the  longitude 
of  sixty-one  degrees  in  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
and  that  of  one  hundred  degrees  in  Cen- 
tral Mexico,  and  from  the  North  Ameri- 
can lakes  to  the  southern  side  of  the  island 
of  Jamaica. 

Over  this  vast  area,  an  appearance  pre- 
sented itself  far  surpassing,  in  grandeur 
and  magnificence,  the  loftiest  reach  of  the 
human  imagination.  From  two  o'clock 
until  broad  daylight,  the  sky  being  per- 
fectly serene  and  cloudless,  an  incessant 
play  of  dazzlingly  brilliant  luminosities 
was  kept  up  in  the  whole  heavens.  Some 
of  these  were  of  great  magnitude  and  most 
peculiar  form.  One,  of  large  size,  remained 
for  some  time  almost  stationary  in  the  ze- 
nith, over  the  Falls  of  Niagara,  emitting 
streams  of  light  which  radiated  in  all  direc- 
tions. The  wild  dash  of  the  waters,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  fiery  commotion  above 
them,  formed  a  scene  of  unequaled  and 
amazing  sublimity.  Arago  computes  that 
not  less  than  two  hundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand meteors  were  at  the  same  time  visible 
above  the  horizon  of  Boston  !  To  form  some 
idea  of  such  a  spectacle,  one  must  imagine 
a  constant  succession  of  fire-balls,  resem- 
bling sky-rockets  radiating  in  all  direc- 
tions, from  a  point  in  the  heavens  near  the 
zenith,  and  following  the  arch  of  the  sky 
towards  the  horizon.  They  proceeded  to 
various  distances  from  the  radiating  point, 
leaving  after  them  a  vivid  streak  of  light, 
and  usually  exploding  before  they  disap- 
peared. The  balls  were  of  various  sizes 
and  degrees  of  splendor ;  some  were  mere 
points,  but  others  were  larger  and  brighter 
than  Jupiter  or  Venus  ;  and  one,  in  par- 
ticular, appeared  to  be  nearly  of  the  moon's 
size.  But  at  Niagara,  no  spectacle  so  ter- 
ribly grand  and  sublime  was  ever  before 
beheld  by  man  as  that  of  the  firmament 
descending  in  fiery  torrents  over  the  dark 
and  roaring  cataract ! 

Everywhere  within  the  range  of  the 
exhibition,  the  first  appearance  was  that  of 
fire-works  of  the  most  imposing  grandeur, 
covering  the  entire  vault  of  heaven  with 
myriads  of  fire-balls  resembling  sky-rock- 


230 


SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER. 


ets.  On  more  attentive  inspection,  it  was 
seen  that  the  meteors  exhibited  three  dis- 
tinct varieties,  as  follows,  described  by  Dr. 
Olmsted  :— 

First,  those  consisting  of  phosphoric 
lines,  apparently  described  by  a  point. 
This  variety  was  the  most  numerous, 
every-where  filling  the  atmosphere,  and 
resembling  a  shower  of  fiery  snow  driven 
with  inconceivable  velocity  to  the  north  of 
west,  and  transfixing  the  beholder  with 
wondering  awe. 

Second,  those  consisting  of  large  fire- 
balls, which  at  intervals  darted  along  the 
sky,  leaving  luminous  trains  which  occa- 
sionally remained  in  view  for  a  number  of 
minutes,  and,  in  some  cases,  for  half  an 
hour  or  more.  This  kind  appeared  more 
like  falling  stars,  giving  to  many  persons 
the  very  natural  impression  that  the  stars 
were  actually  falling  from  the  sky ;  and  it 
was  principally  this  spectacle  which  caused 
such  amazement  and  terror  among  the 
unenlightened  classes. 

Third,  those  undefined  luminous  bodies 
which  remained  nearly  stationary  in  the 
heavens  for  a  considerable  period  of  time ; 
these  were  of  various  size  and  form. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  circum- 
stances attending  this  display  was,  that 
the  meteors  all  seemed  to  emanate  from 


sky,  ran  along  the  vault  with  immense 
velocity,  describing  in  some  instances  an 
arc  of  thirty  or  forty  degrees  in  less  than 
four  seconds.  The  trains  which  they  left 
were  commonly  white,  but  were  sometimes 
tinged  with  various  prismatic  colors. 

One  ball — seen  at  New  Haven,  and  sup- 
posed to  have  been  identical  with  one 
described  by  various  observers — that  shot 
off  in  the  north-west  direction,  and  ex- 
ploded a  little  northward  of  the  star 
Capella,  left,  just  behind  the  place  of 
explosion,  a  phosphorescent  train  of  pecu- 
liar beauty.  The  line  of  direction  was  at 
first  nearly  straight ;  but  it  soon  began  to 
contract  in  length,  to  dilate  in  breadth, 
and  to  assume  the  figure  of  a  serpent  draw- 
ing himself  up,  until  it  appeared  like  a 
small  luminous  cloud  of  vapor.  This 
cloud  was  borne  eastward,  —  the  wind 
blowing  gently  in  that  direction, — oppo- 
site to  the  course  in  which  the  meteor  had 
proceeded,  remaining  in  sight  several 
minutes. 

Of  the  third  variety  of  meteors,  the  fol- 
lowing are  remarkable  examples.  At 
Poland,  Ohio,  a  luminous  body  was  dis- 
tinctly visible  in  the  north-east  for  more 
than  an  hour ;  it  was  very  brilliant,  in  the 
form  of  a  pruning-hook,  and  apparently 
twenty  feet  long  and  eighteen  inche* 


MBTEOKIO  SHOWER  AS  SEEN  AT  NIAGARA  FALLS. 


one  and  the  same  point ;  that  is,  if  their 
lines  of  direction  had  been  continued  back- 
ward, they  would  have  met  in  the  same 
point,  south-east  a  little  from  the  zenith. 
They  set  out  at  different  distances  from 
this  point,  and,  following  the  arch  of  the 


broad ;  it  gradually  settled  towards  the 
horizon,  until  it  disappeared.  At  Niagara 
Falls,  a  large,  luminous  body,  shaped  like 
a  square  table,  was  seen  nearly  in  the 
zenith,  remaining  for  some  time  almost 
stationary,  and  emitting  large  streams  of 


SUBLIME  METEOEIC  SHOWER. 


231 


light.  At  Charleston,  S.  C.,  a  meteor  of 
extraordinary  size  was  seen  to  course  the 
hearens  for  a  great  length  of  time,  and 
then  was  heard  to  explode  with  the  noise 
of  a  cannon. 

The  point  from  which  the  meteors 
seemed  to  issue,  was  observed,  by  those 
who  fixed  the  position  of  the  display 
among  the  stars,  to  be  in  the  constellation 
Leo.  At  New  Haven,  it  appeared  in  the 
bend  of  the  '  sickle  ' — a  collection  of  stars 
in  the  breast  of  Leo, — a  little  to  the  west- 
ward of  the  star  Gamma  Leonis.  By 
observers  at  other  places  remote  from  each 
other,  it  was  seen  in  the  same  constella- 
tion, although  in  different  parts  of  it.  An 
interesting  and  important  fact,  in  this 
connection,  is,  that  this  radiating  point 
was  stationary  among  the  fixed  stars  — 
that  is,  that  it  did  not  move  along  with  the 
earth,  in  its  diurnal  revolution  eastward, 
but  accompanied  the  stars  in  their  appar- 
ent progress  westward. 

According  to  the  testimony  of  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  observers,  the  meteors 
were,  in  general,  unaccompanied  by  any 
very  peculiar  sound;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  such  a  sound,  proceeding,  as  was 
supposed,  from  the  meteors,  was  said  to  be 
distinctly  heard  by  a  few  observers  in 
various  places.  These  sounds  are  repre- 
sented either  as  a  hissing  noise,  like  the 
rushing  of  a  sky-rocket,  or  as  explosions, 
like  the  bursting  of  the  same  bodies  ;  and 
these  instances  were  too  numerous  to 
permit  the  supposition  that  they  were 
'•^aginary. 

A  remarkable  change  of  wsather,  from 
warm  to  cold,  accompanied  the  meteoric 
shower,  or  immediately  followed  it.  In 
all  parts  of  the  United  States,  this  change 
was  remarkable  for  its  suddenness  and 
intensity.  In  many  places,  the  day  pre- 
ceding had  been  unusually  warm  for  the 
season,  but,  before  morning,  a  severe  frost 
ensued,  unparalleled  for  the  time  of  year. 
Indeed,  the  seasons  and  atmospheric 
changes  exhibited  remarkable  anomalies 
long  after  that  period.  Thus,  in  parts  of 
Michigan,  so  uncommonly  mild  was  the 
season  throughout  the  latter  part  of 


November,  and  the  whole  of  December, 
that  the  Indians  made  maple  sugar  during 
this  month,  and  the  contiguous  lakes 
remained  unfrozen  as  late  as  January 
third.  At  the  same  period,  the  season  in 
the  south-western  states,  as  far  as  New 
Orleans,  was  uncommonly  cold.  In  most 
portions  of  New  England,  an  unusually 
mild  winter  was  succeeded  by  a  remarka- 
bly cold  and  backward  spring,  requiring 
domestic  fires  to  be  kept  throughout  the 
month  of  May,  and  frequently  in  the 
month  of  June.  A  succession  of  gales 
commenced  about  the  time  of  the  meteoric 
shower,  first  in  the  Atlantic  ocean,  and 
afterwards  in  various  parts  of  the  United 
States,  almost  unequaled  in  this  country 
for  their  frequency  and  violence. 

The  meteors  were  constituted  of  very 
light,  combustible  materials.  Their  com- 
bustibility was  rendered  evident  by  their 
exhibiting  the  actual  phenomena  of  com- 
bustion, being  consumed,  or  converted 
into  smoke,  with  intense  light  and  heat; 
and  the  extreme  tenuity  of  the  substance 
composing  them  is  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  they  were  stopped  by  the  air.  Had 
their  quantity  of  matter  been  considerable, 
with  so  prodigious  a  velocity,  they  would 
have  had  a  sufficient  momentum  to  enable 
them  to  reach  the  t-arth,  and  the  most  dis- 
astrous consequences  might  have  ensued. 
Upon  submitting  this  subject  to  accurate 
calculation,  upon  established  principles, 
Dr.  Olmsted  ascertained  that  the  quantity 
of  heat  extricated  from  the  air  by  the  fall- 
ing meteors,  exceeded  that  of  the  hottest 
furnaces,  and  could  be  compared  only  to 
those  immeasurable  degrees  of  heat  pro- 
duced in  the  laboratory  of  the  chemist, 
before  which  the  most  refractory  sub- 
stances are  melted,  and  even  dissipated  in 
vapor. 

Some  of  the  larger  meteors  must  have 
been  bodies  of  very  great  size.  Dr.  Smith, 
of  North  Carolina,  and  other  persons  in 
various  places,  saw  a  meteor  which  ap- 
peared as  large  as  the  full  moon.  If  this 
body  were  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred 
and  ten  miles  from  the  observer,  it  must 
have  had  a  diameter  of  one  mile  ;  if  at  a 


232 


SUBLIME  METEOEIC  SHOWER. 


distance  of  eleven  miles,  its  diameter  was 
five  hundred  and  twenty-eight  feet;  and 
if  only  one  mile  off,  it  must  have  been 
forty-eight  feet  in  diameter.  These  con- 
siderations leave  no  doubt  that  many  of 
the  meteors  were  of  great  size,  though  it 
may  be  difficuk  to  say  precisely  how  large. 
The  fact  that  they  were  stopped  by  the 
resistance  of  the  air,  proves  that  their 
substance  was  light ;  still,  the  quantity  of 
smoke,  or  residuum,  which  resulted  from 
their  destruction,  indicates  that  there  was 
quite  a  body  of  matter. 

The  momentum  of  even  light  bodies  of 
such  size,  and  in  such  numbers,  traversing 
the  atmosphere  with  such  astonishing 
velocity,  must  have  produced  extensive 
derangements  in  the  atmospheric  equilib- 
rium, as  the  consideration  of  certain  points 
will  show. 

These  large  bodies  were  stopped  in  the 
atmosphere,  only  by  transferring  their 
motion  to  columns  of  air,  large  volumes  of 
which  would  be  suddenly  and  violently 
displaced.  Cold  air  of  the  upper  regions 
would  be  brought  down  to  the  earth  ;  the 
portions  of  air  incumbent  over  districts  of 
country  remote  from  each  other,  being 
mutually  displaced,  would  exchange  places, 
the  air  of  the  warm  latitudes  being  trans- 
ferred to  colder,  and  that  of  cold  latitudes 
to  warmer  regions ;  remarkable  changes 
of  season  would  be  the  consequence,  and 
numerous  and  violent  gales  would  prevail 
for  a  long  time,  until  the  atmosphere 
should  have  regained  its  equilibrium.  That 
the  state  of  the  weather,  and  the  condition 
of  the  seasons  that  followed  the  meteoric 
shower,  corresponded  to  these  consequences 
of  the  disturbance  of  the  atmospheric  equi- 
librium, is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  favors 
the  opinion  early  suggested,  that  such 
disturbance  is  a  natural  effect  of  the  mete- 
oric shower,  and  it  is  a  consequence  from 
which  the  most  formidable  dangers  attend- 
ing phenomena  of  this  kind  are  to  be 
apprehended. 

With  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  mete- 
ors, Dr.  Olmsted,  after  establishing  the 
fact  that  they  were  combustible,  light, 
and  transparent  bodies,  infers  that  the 


cloud  which  produced  the  fiery  shower, 
consisted  of  nebulous  matter,  analogous  to 
that  which  composes  the  tails  of  comets. 
It  cannot  be  said,  indeed,  precisely  what 
is  the  constitution  of  the  material  of  which 
the  latter  are  composed  ;  but  it  is  known 
that  it  is  very  light,  since  it  meets  no 
appreciable  force  of  attraction  on  the  plan- 
ets, moving  even  among  the  satellites  of 
Jupiter  without  disturbing  their  motions, 
although  its  own  motions,  in  such  cases, 
are  greatly  disturbed,  thus  proving  its 
materiality ;  and,  that  it  is  exceedingly 
transparent,  is  evinced  by  the  fact  that 
the  smallest  stars  are  visible  through  it 
Hence,  so  far  as  there  can  be  gathered 
any  knowledge  of  the  material  of  the  neb- 
ulous matter  of  comets,  and  of  the  matter 
composing  these  November  meteors,  they 
appear  to  be  analogous  to  each  other. 

Various  hypotheses  have  been  proposed 
to  account  for  this  wonderful  phenomenon. 
The  agent  most  readily  suggesting  itself 
in  this  and  in  most  other  unexplained 
natural  appearances — electricity — has  no 
known  properties  adequate  to  account  for 
the  production  of  the  meteors,  for  the 
motions  which  they  exhibited,  or  for  the 
trains  which,  in  many  instances,  they  left 
behind  them.  And,  if  this  agent  be  sup- 
posed to  have  some  connection  with  the 
light  and  heat  which  they  exhibited,  it  ia 
to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  compression 
of  the  air  which  must  result  from  the 
rapid  progress  of  large  bodies  through  it, 
is  a  sufficient  cause  of  this. 

Magnetism  has  also  been  assigned  as  the 
principal  agent  concerned  in  producing 
the  meteoric  shower.  The  aurora  borealis, 
and  the  remarkable  auroral  arches  which 
occasionally  appear  in  the  sky,  have  been 
found  to  have  peculiar  relations  to  the 
magnetism  of  the  earth,  arranging  them- 
selves in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  magnetic 
attraction.  Something  of  this  kind  was 
supposed  by  some  to  appear  during  the 
meteoric  phenomenon,  especially  in  the 
position  of  the  apparent  center  or  radiant- 
point,  which  was,  as  noticed  by  many 
observers,  very  nearly  in  the  place  towards 
which  the  dipping-needle  is  directed. 


SUBLIME  METEOKIC  SHOWER. 


233 


REMARKABLE  METEORIC   DISPLAY  ON  THE   MISSISSIPPI 


From  other  observations,  however,  it 
appears  that  the  radiant-point  was  not 
stationary  with  respect  to  the  meridian, 
but  accompanied  the  stars  in  their  westerly 
progress ;  the  apparent  coincidence  with 
the  pole  of  the  dipping-needle  being, 
according  to  this,  purely  accidental. 

According  to  the  view  that  has  been 
taken,  by  some,  of  the  origin  of  meteoric 
stones,  namely,  that  of  ascribing  them  to 
terrestrial  comets,  the  hypothesis  has  been 
suggested,  that  the  meteors  in  question 
might  have  a  similar  origin.  But  the 
body  which  afforded  the  meteoric  shower, 
could  not  have  been  of  the  nature  of  a 
satellite  to  tlie  earth,  because  it  remained 


so  long  stationary  witb  respect  to  th« 
earth — at  least  two  hours,  -~a  period  suffi- 
cient to  have  carried  it  nearly  rowid  the 
earth  in  a  circular  orbit. 

Nor  can  it  be  supposed  that  the  eartb 
in  its  annual  progress,  came  into  the  vicin 
ity  of  a  nebula,  which  was  either  station' 
ary,  or  wandering  lawless  through  space. 
Such  a  collection  of  matter  could  not 
remain  stationary  within  the  solar  system, 
in  an  insulated  state  ;  and  had  it  been  in 
motion  in  any  other  direction  than  that  in 
which  the  earth  was  moving,  it  would  soon 
have  been  separated  from  the  earth,  since, 
during  the  eight  hours  while  the  meteoric 
shower  lasted, — and  perhaps,  in  all  it» 


234 


SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWEK. 


wide  range,  it  lasted  much  longer, — the 
earth  moved  in  its  orbit  through  the  space 
of  nearly  five  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
miles. 

In  connection  with  the  account  of  this 
meteoric  shower,  mention  may  he  made  of 
a  remarkable  light,  seen  in  the  east  at  the 
time  of  that  great  display,  and  subse- 
quently in  the  west  after  twilight  at  differ- 
ent times,  until  the  month  of  May,  which 
light  assumed  different  aspects,  corre- 
sponding, apparently,  to  those  which  the 
body  revolving  around  the  sun,  in  the 
manner  contemplated  by  theory,  would 
occupy.  Hence  it  was  conjectured,  that 
this  luminous  appearance  proceeded  from 
the  body  itself,  which  afforded  the  mete- 
oric shower.  It  has  also  been  suggested, 
that  this  light  may  result  from  the  same 
cause  as  the  zodiacal  light,  and  that  the 
latter  interesting  phenomenon  perhaps  re- 
sults from  a  nebulous  body  revolving 
around  the  sun,  interior  to  the  orbit  of  the 
earth. 

It  is  a  point  worthy  of  contemplation, 
namely,  the  direful  effects  which  such  a 
"  fiery  shower "  mi  ght,  in  the  absence  of 
that  law  of  harmony  which  governs  the 
universe,  have  unquestionably  produced. 
Had  the  meteors  been  constituted  of  mate- 
rials a  little  more  dense,  their  momentum 
would  have  enabled  them  to  reach  the 
earth ;  and  had  they  held  on  their  course 
three  seconds  longer,  it  is  impossible  to 
conceive  of  the  calamities  which  would 
have  ensued  by  the  descent  to  the  earth  of 
bodies  of  such  magnitude,  glowing  with 
the  most  intense  heat.  Half  the  continent 
must  have  been  involved  in  one  common 
destruction  ! 

One  of  the  most  interesting  facts  per- 
taining to  this  grand  celestial  phenomenon, 
is  its  periodical  character.  Between  the 
years  903  and  1833,  of  the  modern  era, 
thirteen  of  these  great  showers  are  re- 
corded, separated  from  each  other  by  inter- 
vals of  thirty-three  and  sixty-six  years. 
It  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  too,  that  the 
epoch  of  these  periodic  displays  coincides 
with  the  annual  November  showers  so 
familiar  in  their  occurrence  to  all,  and 


that  their  point  of  divergence  in  the  heav- 
ens is  the  same.  Indeed,  the  phenomenon 
of  the  long  interval  or  period  differs  from 
that  of  the  annual  period  only  in  its 
numerical  character. 

The  last  of  these  magnificent  stellar 
showers — second,  perhaps,  in  grandeur  of 
demonstration  to  that  of  November,  1833, 
which  latter  stands  solitary  in  its  unsur- 
.passed  extent  and  splendor, — occurred 
November  fourteenth,  1867,  beginning  at 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  At 
half-past  three,  a  meteor  of  a  greenish  blue 
color,  and  about  the  size  of  a  star  of  the 
first  magnitude,  shot  out  from  the  direc- 
tion of  the  constellation  Leo,  lighting  up 
the  sky  with  a  long  train  of  crimson  fire, 
and  traveling  in  a  north-westerly  direction. 
It  had  scarcely  faded  from  the  sight,  when 
another  and  equally  brilliant,  though  not 
quite  so  large,  came  speeding  along  in  its 
track,  and  it  was  followed  by  fourteen  of 
smaller  magnitude,  one  by  one,  in  quick 
succession.  At  this  moment  a  heavy 
cloud  drifted  towards  the  north,  and  for 
some  minutes  the  spectacle  was  partially 
lost  to  view.  That  the  meteors  were  fall- 
ing rapidly,  however,  was  plainly  evident ; 
for,  from  all  points  where  the  mass  of 
clouds  was  thin,  occasional  meteors  flashed 
out,  and  the  frequent  lighting  up  of  the 
clouds,  as  they  passed  over,  left  no  doubt 
that  the  mysterious  phenomenon  was 
having  full  play  in  the  regions  beyond. 

At  ten  minutes  before  four  o'clock,  the 
northern  sky  again  became  clear ;  a  thick 
and  almost  impenetrable  cloud  passed  over 
the  moon,  partially  obscuring  its  light, 
and  thus  enabling  the  observers  to  view 
with  greater  distinctness  the  size  and  bril- 
liancy of  the  meteors. 

The  display  was  now  a  most  magnifi- 
cent one  indeed.  The  meteors  shot  out 
from  Leo  in  all  directions,  and  with 
remarkable  swiftness  traveled  across  the 
horizon.  Sixty-three  were  counted  in  one 
minute  and  ten  seconds,  of  which  three 
were  of  extraordinary  size  and  beauty. 
One  of  these,  of  a  greenish  hue,  and  fol- 
lowed by  a  long  train  of  the  same  color, 
traveled  in  the  direction  of  .Ursa  Major, 


SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER. 


235 


and  as  it  was  disappearing  in  the  southern 
horizon,  apparently  burst,  lighting  up  the 
sky  for  a  great  distance  on  all  sides.  It 
soon  became  utterly  impossible  to  keep  any 
correct  account  of  the  number  falling. 
Eight,  ten  and  twelve  sped  onwards,  on 
their  erratic  course,  at  the  same  moment, 
scarcely  disappearing  before  others  of 
equal  splendor  took  their  places.  For 
fully  twenty  minutes  they  continued  to 
fall  with  the  same  rapidity,  during  which 
time,  there  were  counted,  exclusive  of  those 
already  mentioned,  three  hundred  and 
thirteen.  This  number,  however,  was  not 
one-fifth  of  that  which  really  fell,  w 
observed  in  New  York  city.  Not  less 
than  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  were 
estimated  by  observers  at  that  city,  to 
have  radiated  from  Leo,  during  this  space 
of  time,  some  of  which  were  splendid  in 
color  and  movement. 

One  of  the  meteors  constituting  this 
display  is  described  as  of  surpassing 
beauty,  size  and  brilliancy.  It  radiated 
from  Leo,  and  took  a  direct  northerly 
course  toward  Ursa  Major,  followed  by  a 
long  train  of  a  yellowish  red  hue,  which 
spanned  the  horizon  from  its  point  of 
appearance  to  that  of  its  disappearance. 
This  meteor  was  of  the  same  greenish  blue 
color  as  the  others  which  preceded  it, 


and  as  it  passed  over  about  one-half  of  the 
course  traversed,  it  seemed  to  burst,  and 
then  the  spectacle  was  one  of  extreme 
beauty.  Apparently,  hundreds  of  frag- 
ments of  an  almost  blood-red  color  broke 
from  it  and  scattered  in  every  direction, 
while  it  continued  its  course  towards  the 
north,  no  longer  wearing  its  greenish-blue 
color,  but  of  one  uniform  and  beautiful 
blue.  The  panorama  it  presented  was 
exceedingly  grand,  and  lasted  about  three 
minutes,  before  the  varied  colors  disap- 
peared and  the  fire-lit  skies  resumed  their 
wonted  serenity.  After  the  appearance  of 
this,  the  display  gradually  died  away. 

Although  it  is  doubtful,  from  the  want 
of  the  requisite  data,  whether  the  source 
of  the  meteors,  or  the  height  of  the  mete- 
oric cloud,  has  been  accurately  ascertained, 
yet  the  truth  in  regard  to  the  latter  may 
be  approximated.  According  to  the  estab- 
lished laws  of  falling  bodies,  the  velocity 
the  meteors  would  acquire  in  falling  from 
a  point  two  thousand  two  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  miles  above  the  earth  to  within 
fifty  miles  of  its  surface — this  being  con- 
sidered as  nearly  the  height  of  the  atmos- 
phere— is  about  four  miles  per  second 
which  is  more  than  ten  times  the  maxi- 
mum velocity  of  a  cannon-ball,  and  about 
nineteen  times  that  of  sound  ' 


XXIX. 

ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION.  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON, 
AT   THE  UNITED  STATES  CAPITOL  IN  WASHING- 
TON, BY   RICHARD    LAWRENCE.— 1835. 


Failure  of  the  Pistols  to  Discharge. — The  President  Rushes  Furiously  Upon  His  Assailant,  and  is 
Restrained  from  Executing  Summary  Vengeance  only  by  His  Friends. — Political  Hostility  Supposed, 
at  First,  to  Have  Instigated  the  Act. — Lawrence  Proves  to  be  a  Lunatic,  Without  Accomplices. — His 
History  and  Trial. — Funeral  of  a  Member  of  Congress. — Great  Concourse  at  the  Capitol. — President 
Jackson  and  Cabinet  Present. — Lawrence  Enters  During  the  Sermon. — Moves  to  the  Eastern  Portico. 
— President  Jackson  Leaves  with  Secretary  Woodbury. — Their  Carriage  at  the  Portico  Steps. — 
Approach  to  Lawrence's  Position. — He  Levels  a  Pistol  at  Jackson. — Explosion  of  the  Percussion  Cap. 
— A  Second  Pistol  Snapped. — Jackson  Raises  His  Cane  Fiercely. — Lion-Like  Energy  of  the  Old  Hero. 
— It  with  Difficulty  Kept  Back. — Lawrence  Stunned  and  Secured. — His  Perfect  Calmness  Through 
All. — The  Crowd  Wish  to  Kill  Him. — Fine  Appearance  of  the  Assassin. — Frank  Avowal  of  His 
Motives.— Insane  Idea  Possessing  Him.— Claims  to  be  a  King.— Is  Confined  in  a  Madhouse. 


"Ltt  me  go,  gentlemen  I    I  am  not  afraid— they  CAN'T  kill  me— I  can  protect  myielf  I  "— JACXSOX'S  EXCLAMATION  WHBK 

DPOM   TUK  ASSAS8I1I. 


IKE  wildfire  on  the  flowing  prairie,  did  the  announcement  of   the   attempted 

assassination  of  President  Andrew  Jackson,  on  the 
thirtieth  of  January,  1835,  spread  over  the  countr}-, 
to  its  furthermost  limits.  Consternation  filled  the 
public  mind,  at  the  thought  that  the  tragical  mode 
of  dealing  with  the  crowned  heads  of  kingdoms  and 
empires,  had  at  last  been  tried — though  fortunately 
with  abortive  result — upon  the  person  of  the  popu- 
larly elected  ruler  of  a  free  republic  ! 

On  the  afternoon  of  die  day  above-named,  while 
President  Jackson  was  in  the  capitol,  in  attendance 
on  the  funeral  of  the  Hon.  Warren  K.  Davis,  of 

THE  PRESERVATION.  South    Carolina,    Richard     Lawrence,    a    painter, 

residing  in  Washington,  attempted  to  shoot  him.  This  individual  was  seen 
to  enter  the  hall  of  the  house  of  representatives  during  the  delivery  of  the  funeral 
sermon;  before  its  close,  however,  he  had  taken  his  stand  on  the  eastern 
portico,  near  one  01  the  columns.  The  president,  with  the  secretary  of  the 
treasury  on  his  left  arm,  on  retiring  from  the  rotunda  to  reach  his  carriage  at  the 
steps  of  the  portico,  advanced  towards  the  spot  where  Lawrence  stood, — who  had  his 
pistol  concealed  under  his  coat,  —  and  when  he  approached  within  two  yards  and 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION   OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON.        237 


a  half  of  him,  the  assassin  extended  his 
arm  and  leveled  the  pistol  at  the  presi- 
dent's breast.  The  percussion  cap  ex- 
ploded with  a  noise  so  great,  that  several 
witnesses  supposed  the  pistol  had  fired. 
On  the  instant,  the  assassin  dropped  the 
pistol  from  his  right  hand,  and  taking 
another  ready  cocked  from  his  left,  pre- 
sented and  snapped  it  at  the  president, 
who  at  the  moment  raised  his  cane  and 
made  for  the  assailant  with  lion-like 
energy,  and  would  have  executed  summary 
vengeance ;  but  Secretary  Woodbury  and 
Lieutenant  Gedney  at  the  same  instant 
laid  hold  of  the  man,  who  gave  way 
through  the  crowd  and  was  at  last  knocked 
down,  the  president  pressing  after  him 
until  he  saw  he  was  secured.  The  presi- 
dent's friends  then  urged  him  to  go  to  the 
capitol,  which  the  brave-hearted  man  did, 
with  great  firmness  and  self-possession, 
though  during  the  eventful  moment  the 
president's  commanding  voice  was  heard 
above  all  others,  as,  tearing  himself  from 
his  friends  and  rushing  upon  the  assassin, 
he  said,  "  Let  me  go,  gentlemen, — /  am  not 
afraid — they  can't  kill  me — I  can  protect 
myself!  "  As  soon  as  the  act  was  known 
to  the  crowd,  they  wished  to  kill  the  assas- 
sin on  the  spot. 

Lawrence  was  forthwith  carried  to  jail, 
after  a  brief  preliminary  examination 
before  Judge  Cranch.  At  this  examina- 
tion, Mr.  Randolph,  sergeant  of  the  house 
of  representatives,  who  attended  the  mar- 
shal to  conduct  the  prisoner  to  the  city 
hall,  gave  in  testimony  that  the  prisoner, 
when  asked  by  the  marshal  what  motive 
he  had  to  make  his  horrid  attempt,  stated 
that  the  president  had  killed  his  father. 
His  father  was  an  Englishman  who  died 
many  years  ago  in  Washington.  The  son 
himself  was  apprenticed  afterwards  to  a 
Mr.  Clark,  with  whom  he  lived  three  years. 
Mr.  Clark,  when  called  upon,  said  that  he 
was  a  young  man  of  excellent  habits,  sober 
and  industrious;  that  he  had  seen  him 
very  frequently,  and  was  well  acquainted 
with  him  since  he  had  left  his  family,  and 
had  heard  nothing  to  his  disadvantage, 
until,  of  late,  he  was  informed  of  his  being 


quarrelsome  am:ng  his  friends,  and  had 
treated  one  of  his  sisters  badly. 

The  total  absence  of  any  personal  motive 
on  the  part  of  the  prisoner  to  commit  the 
deed  he  attempted,  suggested  the  idea  that 
he  must  be  insane.  But  his  demeanor 
when  committing  the  act,  and  on  being 
seized,  as  well  as  when  examined,  bore  not 
the  slightest  appearance  of  frenzy,  or 
derangement  of  any  sort.  When  asked 
by  the  court  if  he  wished  to  cross-examine 
the  witnesses,  or  to  make  explanation,  he 
answered  in  the  negative — said  that  those 
who  had  seen  the  act  could  state  the  facts 
— and  at  the  conclusion,  when  asked  if  he 
had  anything  to  offer,  said  that  he  could 
not  contradict  what  had  been  given  in 
evidence.  In  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
and  anxiety  which  prevailed  around  him, 
Lawrence  appeared  perfectly  calm  and 
collected ;  and  the  president,  in  speaking 
of  the  event,  remarked  that  Lawrence's 
manner,  from  the  moment  his  eye  caught 
his,  was  firm  and  resolved,  until  the  failure 
of  his  last  pistol,  when  he  seemed  to  shrink, 
rather  than  resist. 

Lawrence  was  a  handsome  young  man 
of  about  thirty-five  years,  small  in  stature, 
pale  complexion,  black  hair,  dark  eyes, 
genteel  deportment,  and  well-dressed.  The 
keeper  of  the  rotunda  stated  that  he  had 
frequently  observed  the  man  about  the 
capitol,  so  frequently  that  he  had  endeav- 
ored to  draw  him  into  conversation,  but 
found  him  taciturn  and  unwilling  to  talk. 
On  the  day  in  question,  he  kept  prowling 
about,  but  did  not  come  within  the  railing 
near  the  members'  seats;  his  hand  was 
held  inside  his  vest,  as  if  grasping  some- 
thing, and  his  lips  were  pale  and  quiver- 
ing. On  his  pistols  being  taken  from  him, 
after  the  affair,  they  were  found  to  be  a 
very  elegant  pair,  in  most  excellent  order, 
and  loaded  with  powder  and  ball  almost  to 
the  muzzle,  the  barrels  being  about  six 
inches  long.  On  examining  the  load  in 
one  of  the  pistols,  a  ball  was  drawn  out  by 
means  of  a  screw,  about  sixty  of  which 
balls  would  have  made  a  pound ;  it  was 
well  packed,  and  forced  down  tight  on  a 
full  charge  of  excellent  glazed  powder.  It 


238       ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 


was  a  most  astonishing  circumstance, 
loaded  as  they  were  and  with  percussion 
caps,  that  the  pistols  missed  fire.  In  view 
of  this  latter  fact,  Mr.  Key,  the  district 
attorney,  and  General  Hunter,  the  marshal 
of  the  district,  lost  no  time  in  testing  the 
actual  condition  of  the  weapons,  the  pistol 
still  loaded  being  first  tried,  by  putting  on 
another  cap.  The  tube  of  this  pistol 
showed  the  powder  at  its  summit.  Gen- 
eral Hunter,  by  inclining  the  pistol,  threw 
out  a  few  grains  of  the  powder  in  his 
hand.  They  took  from  a  box  of  caps  found 


each  of  the  pistols,  several  times,  without 
taking  any  other  means  of  forcing  the 
powder  into  the  tubes  than  that  of  ram- 
ming home  small  paper  wads  on  the 
charges.  The  discharge  of  the  weapons 
took  effect  on  every  trial.  So  great  was 
the  excitement  produced  by  the  affair, 
that  some  of  the  most  eminent  political 
opponents  of  the  president,  including  such 
men  as  Clay,  Calhoun,  Poindexter,  White, 
and  others,  were,  in  the  frenzy  of  the 
moment,  suspected  of  having  conspired  in 
a  plot  to  get  rid  of  the  president ! 


in  Lawrence's  shop  without  selecting  it, 
one,  which  was  placed  upon  the  tube.  On 
Major  Donelson  firing  it,  the  ball  passed 
through  an  inch  plank,  at  a  distance  of 
about  five  or  six  yards,  and  lodged,  nearly 
buried,  in  the  opposite  side  of  the  enclos- 
ure, six  or  seven  yards  distant.  They 
then  loaded  with  a  small  quantity  of  the 
powder  found  in  the  prisoner's  possession 


ATTEMPTED   ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 

It    was  ascertained  that,  some  time  pre- 
vious, Lawrence  had  formed  an  attachment 


to  a  young  lady,  and  frequently  told  his 
sister  that  he  would  by  his  industry  soon 
be  enabled  to  buy  a  corner  lot  near  her, 
and  build  on  it  a  good  house,  when  he 
would  marry  the  object  of  his  attachment ; 
and,  with  this  view,  he  labored  diligently, 
day  and  night,  until  he  had  by  him  about 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION   OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON.       239 


eight  hundred  dollars.  He  was  disap- 
pointed— became  extremely  pensive — quit 
all  employment  —  and  would  stand  for 
hours  in  a  little  parlor,  gazing  upon  the 
spot  which  he  had  selected  as  his  future 
residence.  Up  to  this  time,  he  was  quiet, 
kind  and  affectionate. 

His  brother-in-law,  with  whom  he  lived, 
endeavored  to  persuade  Lawrence  to 
resume  his  work — he  said  that  he  would 
go  to  England,  that  he  had  something  of 
great  importance  which  demanded  his 
presence,  and  in  the  fall  of  1833  went  to 
New  York  for  the  purpose  of  taking  pas- 
sage from  that  port.  During  the  winter 
he  returned,  saying  that  he  found  the 
papers  filled  with  notices  of  his  contem- 
plated enterprise,  and  that  he  could  get  no 
captain  to  take  him  on  board.  In  the 
spring  of  1834.  he  again  went  as  far  as 
Philadelphia,  put  up  at  the  Mansion  House, 
kept  his  room,  or  else  would  stand  for 
hours  on  the  porch,  engaged  in  deep 
thought,  without  speaking  to  any  one. 
After  a  few  days  he  returned  to  Washing- 
ton, and  said  that  he  found  his  purpose  of 
going  to  England  was  known,  that  none  of 
the  captains  would  consent  to  take  him  on 
board,  but  that  he  would  soon  have  a  vessel 
of  his  own — that  he  had  engaged  men  who 
would  put  all  things  right.  About  this 
time  he  became  very  quarrelsome,  and  his 
relatives  were  afraid  to  keep  him  in  the 
house.  His  brother-in-law  endeavored 
again  to  induce  him  to  go  to  work,  which 
he  obstinately  refused  to  do,  saying  that 
his  hands  would  do  no  more  work — that 
others  might  work,  but,  as  for  him,  he 
would  soon  have  money  enough.  At 
length,  he  committed  an  assault  upon  his 
sister,  for  which  he  was  handed  over  to  the 
officers  of  justice,  and  lodged  in  jail.  The 
case  was  carried  before  the  grand  jury, 
only  a  short  time  previous  to  the  assault 
on  the  president,  and,  after  an  examina- 
tion of  witnesses  who  knew  him,  the  grand 
jury  refused  to  find  a  bill  against  him,  on 
the  ground  of  his  insanity. 

In  a  conversation  between  Lawrence 
and  some  visitors,  held  soon  after  the  rash 
act,  the  following  curious  statements  were 


made  by  the  prisoner,  in  reply  to  the 
questions  put  to  him  : 

"  What  object  had  you  in  view  in  shoot- 
ing the  president  ?  " 

"About  ten  days  before  making  the 
attempt,  I  called  on  the  president  at  his 
house,  and  stated  to  him  that  I  was  in 
want  of  money,  and  wished  him  to  give  a 
check  for  it.  The  president  made  no  par- 
ticular objection  to  this  demand,  but  stated 
that  Mr.  Dibble  wished  to  see  him,  and 
that  I  must  call  again." 

"Do  you  suppose  the  president  knew  of 
your  intention  to  kill  him  ?  " 

"  He  must  have  known  what  my  inten- 
tion was,  if  he  did  not  comply  with  my 
wishes." 

"Why  did  you  call  upon  the  president 
with  such  a  demand  ?  " 

"  Because  he  knew,  as  I  supposed  every 
person  did,  the  true  situation  of  things. 
The  president  is  my  clerk,  and  I  have 
control  over  his  money  and  his  bank,  and 
the  sword;  and  if  he  refused  to  comply, 
he  knew  the  consequences." 

"  By  what  means  did  you  expect  to 
enforce  compliance  with  your  wishes,  and 
how  much  money  did  you  expect  to  get  ?  " 

"  The  president  knew  I  had  the  right  to 
the  money,  and,  if  he  refused,  that  I  had 
the  right  to  kill  him.  One  or  two  thou- 
sand dollars  would  have  satisfied  me,  but 
I  would  have  accepted  three  or  four  hun- 
dred." 

"  How  came  the  president  to  know  that 
you  had  the  right  ?  " 

"Because  there  was  an  understanding, 
and  it  would  have  been  taking  the  law  in 
his  own  hands  to  refuse." 

"  Did  you  expect  any  aid  in  your  under- 
taking to  kill  the  president  ?  " 

"No,  I  needed  none.  I  have  the  right 
to  the  crown  of  England.  It  has  always 
been  in  my  ancestors.  They  were  deprived 
of  it  by  force.  My  father  was  then  re- 
duced to  labor,  and  had  to  drive  a  coal  cart 
in  England.  He  was  fond  of  hunting, 
riding,  and  shooting,  and  was  frequently 
called  on  by  noblemen  and  persons  of  dis- 
tinction, notwithstanding  his  reduced  cir- 
cumstances." 


240       ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION    OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 


"  How  came  General  Jackson  to  get  the 
power  over  your  rights  and  money  ?  " 

"  The  first  cause  was  what  took  place 
at  Orleans.  He  leagued  in  with  Lord 
Wellington,  and  the  consequence  was,  that 
out  of  twenty-five  thousand  English  sol- 
diers sent  over,  only  a  small  remnant  was 
left;  with  the  aid  of  cotton-bags  fixed  by 
Jackson,  they  were  wasted  away.  A 
number  of  officers  were  drafted  for  this 
campaign,  among  them  Pakenham  and 
Gibbs,  and  they  were  killed.  This  is  the 
unjust  treatment  my  father  received  on 
that  occasion,  and  it  is  my  business  to  put 
things  right — I  have  the  power — Jackson 
is  my  clerk — he  knew  what  would  be  the 
consequence  of  refusing  to  obey." 

"  If  you  were  now  set  at  liberty,  would 
you  endeavor  to  go  on  with  your  determin- 
ation ?  " 

"After  a  while,  I  should  call  on  the 
president  for  the  money,  and  if  he  refused, 
I  would  pursue  the  same  plan  I  did 
before." 

On  the  day  appointed  for  the  trial  of 
Lawrence,  he  appeared  in  court  dressed  in 
a  gray  coat,  black  cravat  and  vest,  and 
brown  pantaloons.  His  conduct  was  that  of 
a  man  perfectly  at  his  ease,  and  collected, 
though  his  eyes  showed  indications  of 
mania,  and  there  was  an  evident  assump- 
tion of  kingly  dignity  in  his  demeanor 
and  the  expression  of  his  countenance. 
He  took  his  seat,  however,  very  quietly  by 
the  side  of  his  counsel,  and  conversed 
smilingly  with  them.  That  his  appear- 
ance was  decidedly  handsome  and  prepos- 
sessing, was  the  opinion  universally  ex- 
pressed. 

The  witnesses  having  been  called  into 
court,  Mr.  Key,  the  prosecuting  attorney, 
commenced  some  observations  to  the 
bench,  when — up  jumped  Lawrence  from 
his  chair,  under  evident  excitement  of 
mind,  and  said  he  wished  to  know  whether 
it  was  correct  to  bring  him  or  not  ?  He 
claimed  the  crown  of  Great  Britain,  he 
said,  and  also  that  of  the  United  States ; 
and  he  wished  to  know  if  they  could  bring 
him  there-?  The  judge  desired  him  to 
take  his  seat,  and  to  allow  his  counsel  to 


manage  his  case  for  him.  Lawrence  com- 
plied, but  still  continued  the  subject,  in 
conversation  with  his  counsel.  The  latter 
now  inquired  of  the  court,  whether,  as  this 
was  simply  the  case  of  a  misdemeanor,  the 
presence  of  the  prisoner,  considering  his 
state  of  mind,  might  not  be  dispensed  with. 
Lawrence  again  rose,  and  addressed  the 
court,  saying,  "  I  wish  to  know,  if,  having, 

jis  I  have,  the  sword ."     He  was  again 

stopped.  His  counsel  once  more,  but  still 
without  success,  appealed  to  the  bench. 


RICDARD  J.AWREXCE. 


to  allow  the  prisoner  to  be  removed, 
saying  that  he  had  done  all  he  could  to 
quiet  the  man's  feelings,  but  had  not  been 
able  to  present  any  course  of  which  he 
would  make  choice.  The  judge  replied, 
that  it  was  always  customary  for  the  pris- 
oner to  be  in  court,  in  cases  like  this;  he 
wished  the  trial  to  proceed  in  the  ordinary 
way.  On  proceeding  to  call  the  panel,  the 
following  passage  ensued : 

"I  observe,"  said  Lawrence,  "that  a 
jury  has  been  called.  I  wish  to  know  if 
this  is  correct.  I  certainly  am  king !  " 

"  You  must  sit  down,"  commanded  the 
judge,  "  and  be  quiet,  Mr.  Lawrence,  until 
called  on  to  answer." 

Lawrence  sat  down  ;  but  not  until  he 
had  reiterated  the  assertion  that  he  was 
king  of  Great  Britain,  and  likewise  of 
America,  and  that  he  was  protected  by  the 
law  in  his  claim. 

On  the  examination  of  witnesses,  Sec- 
retary Woodbury  testified  as  follows  :  On 
the  occasion  of  the  funeral  ceremony  which 
took  place  in  the  hall  of  the  house  of  rep- 
resentatives, in  consequence  of  the  death 
of  one  of  its  members,  I  attended,  together 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION   OF  PKESIDENT  JACKSON.       241 


with  the  president  and  other  officers  of  the 
government;  had  listened  to  the  funeral 
service  in  the  hall  ;  left  it;  the  president 
being  on  my  right  arm,  had  passed  through 
the  rotunda,  and  through  the  eastern  door, 
where  we  came  rather  to  a  halt — being  in 
the  rear, — in  consequence  of  the  delay 
occasioned  by  the  gentlemen  who  had  pre- 
ceded us  getting  into  the  coaches.  We 
had  perhaps  passed  some  two  or  three  steps 
on  to  the  portico,  when  I  heard  a  noise 
like  the  discharge  of  a  pistol;  looked 
round  directly,  and  there  saw  a  person, 
about  six  or  eight  feet,  a  little  obliquely  to 
the  left,  who  was  just  in  the  act  of  lower- 
ing his  hand  when  my  eye  caught  him. 
It  was  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  Saw  him 
distinctly  when  I  turned,  and  saw  the 
pistol  in  his  hand;  presumed  he  was  the 
person  who  fired.  It  was  directed  right 
towards  the  president.  At  first  I  doubted 
whether  it  was  not  myself  who  was  aimed 
at,  but  saw  that  it  was  towards  the  presi- 
dent, who  was  on  my  right ;  turned  to  the 
president  to  see  if  he  was  injured,  and, 
seeing  that  he  was  not,  I  turned  to  look 
for  the  prisoner.  He  was  then  in  the  act 
of  raising  his  hand  again  ;  had  something 
in  it ;  presumed  it  was  a  pistol.  I  gave  a 
pull  from  the  president's  arm  and  sprang 
towards  the  prisoner,  seized  him  by  the 
collar,  and  at  that  moment  the  second 
explosion  took  place.  Other  persons  had 
previously  got  hold  of  him,  which  proceed- 
ing appeared  to  have  rather  put  him  out  of 
his  first  position  ;  they  continued  to  pull 
him,  with  some  violence,  in  a  somewhat 
opposite  direction.  Seeing  he  was  secured, 
and  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  he 
had  no  other  weapon,  I  let  go  my  hold  to 
learn  what  was  the  state  of  the  president. 
The  prisoner  was  dragged  forwards  towards 
the  front  of  the  piazza.  I  saw  no  more  of 
him  until  I  saw  him  here  an  hour  after. 
Found  the  president  in  the  crowd,  and  went 
home  with  him. 

Secretary  Dickerson  stated  the  circum- 
stances of  the  assault,  as  observed  by  him, 
to  be  as  follows  :  I  went  with  other  gentle- 
men of  the  cabinet,  to  the  capitol,  on  the 
day  of  the  funeral  of  the  Hon.  W.  R. 
16 


Davis.  After  the  service  in  the  hall,  the 
procession  moved  forward  towards  the 
eastern  colonnade,  there  being  a  great 
crowd.  I  was  a  little  to  the  rear  of  the 
president,  and  at  the  door  of  the  colonnade 
there  was  a  halt,  which  brought  me  up 
nearly  to  his  side.  I  had  advanced,  I 
think,  about  two  steps  from  the  door,  when 
I  heard  the  discharge  of  a  pocket  pistol ; 
have  certainly  heard  such  pistols  dis- 
charged without  making  a  louder  report — 
it  being  in  the  colonnade  might  have 
increased  the  sound.  On  turning  my  eye, 
I  saw  that  some  men  had  laid  hold  of  an 
individual.  I  was  to  the  left  of  'the  presi- 
dent, and  saw  Lieutenant  Gedney,  who 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  get  the  man  down, 
but  I  could  not  see  the  man.  It  was  some 
seconds  before  the  prisoner  could  get  at 
his  other  pistol,  and  when  he  did,  from  his 
altered  position,  he  had  to  throw  his  arm 
over  to  get  aim  at  the  president.  The 
latter  must  have  been  struck,  had  a  dis- 
charge taken  place.  In  an  instant  from 
this  time,  the  prisoner  was  crushed  to  the 
floor,  but  was  soon  raised  again.  Mr. 
Gillet,  a  member  of  congress  from  New 
York  state,  a  very  strong  man,  had  hold 
of  him,  as  also  had  Lieutenant  Gedney. 
I  looked  at  the  prisoner,  and  kept  my  eye 
on  him,  so  as  to  be  certain  of  his  identity. 
About  the  instant  the  second  explosion 
took  place,  the  president  had  lifted  his 
stick  to  strike  the  prisoner,  but  made  no 
blow,  being  prevented  by  his  friends.  The 
crowd  coming  out  at  the  door  was  very 
great.  The  president  spoke  angrily  to 
those  who  prevented  him  from  getting 
at  Lawrence,  saying,  "  Let  me  alone ! 
Let  me  alone ! "  I  recollect  hearing 
him  also  say,  "  he  knew  where  this  came 
from ! " 

After  some  further  evidence  on  the  part 
of  the  prosecution,  the  prisoner's  counsel 
asked  permission  of  the  judges  that  Law- 
rence might  leave  the  court,  saying  that  it 
was  painful  to  them  all  to  have  him 
remain — particularly  so  to  himself,  as  his 
counsel, — and  the  law  did  not  require  his 
presence.  Lawrence  now  rose,  and  ad- 
dressed the  judges  wildly,  saying — 


242       ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION   OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON. 


'•'  What  I  havj  done  to  Jackson,  was  on 
account  of  money  which  he  owes  me.  I 
went  there  for  that  purpose.  I  consider 
all  in  this  court  as  under  me.  The  United 
States  bank  has  owed  me  money  ever  since 
1802,  and  I  want  my  money.  I  must 
have  my  revenue  from  that  bank.  You 
are  under  me,  gentlemen.  (Mr.  Wood- 
ward, the  deputy-marshal,  endeavoring  to 
prevail  on  him  to  resume  his  seat,  Law- 
rence turned  round,  indignantly,  and  said, 
'  Mr.  Woodward!  mind  your  own  business, 
or  I  shall  treat  you  with  severity/')  It  is 
for  me,  gentlemen,  to  pass  upon  you,  and 
not  you  upon  me." 

Again  did  the  counsel  appeal  to  the 
feelings  of  the  court  to  spare  itself,  and 
the  jury,  this  painful  exhibition,  by  per- 
mitting Lawrence  to  depart  in  custody  of 
the  marshal.  He,  the  counsel,  felt,  for  his 
own  part,  that  he  could  not  do  justice  to 
the  cause  t>f  the  prisoner,  if  he  sat  beside 
him  ;  the  very  fact,  that  he  should  take  a 
course  in  the  defense  of  the  prisoner  with 
which  he  was  displeased,  would  prevent  it. 
The  court  replied,  that  Lawrence  should 
remain  until  proven  to  be  insane;  he 
would,  however,  be  permitted  to  withdraw, 
if  it  was  his  own  wish  so  to  do.  The 
unfortunate  maniac  here  shouted  out — 

"  I  deny  the  power  of  the  court  to  try 
me — I  am  my  own  man — I  will  have  my 
revenue ! " 

Lawrence's  counsel  here  endeavored  to 
soothe  him,  by  telling  him  he  should  have 
his  rights.  "Ay,  but  when?"  "To- 
day," replied  his  counsel ;  and  he  sat  down, 
contentedly,  on  this  assurance. 

It  was,  of  course,  not  at  all  difficult  for 
the  prisoner's  counsel  to  prove  his  insanity 
and  consequent  irresponsibleness.  Mr. 
Redfern,  who  married  Lawrence's  sister, 
testified  on  this  point,  to  the  following 
effect :  I  have  known  Lawrence  for  sixteen 
years,  and  first  observed  a  change  in  him 
i  n  1833.  In  the  fall  of  1832  he  left  Wash- 
ington with  the  intention,  he  said,  of  going 
to  England;  he  went  in  November,  and 
returned  again  in  December,  assigning  as 
a  reason,  that  the  weather  was  cold.  In 
the  spring  of  the  next  year,  he  started 


again  to  go  to  New  York  or  Philadelphia, 
but  he  certainly  got  no  farther  than  Phila- 
delphia ;  on  his  return  this  time,  he  said  the 
people  would  not  let  him  go,  that  the  gov- 
ernment opposed  his  going,  that  I  and 
others  had  prevented  him  ;  that  he  should 
not  be  able  to  go  until  he  got  a  ship  and 
captain  of  his  own, — that,  when  he  got  to 
Philadelphia,  he  found  all  the  papers  so 
full  about  him,  that  he  was  obliged  to 
come  back.  After  this,  he  remained  in 
my  house  six  months,  but  did  nothing, 
saying  he  had  no  occasion  to  labor,  that  he 
lived  on  his  people, — it  was  very  well  for 
men  such  as  me  to  work,  but  he  had  no 
such  need,  that  he  had  large  claims  on  this 
government  which  were  now  before  con- 
gress. He  used  to  attend  congress  regu- 
larly. In  January,  1834,  he  left  my 
house,  but,  previous  to  this,  had  got  quar- 
relsome with  his  sister,  said  the  colored 
girl  laughed  at  him  and  that  he  would  kill 
her,  and  that  other  people  also  laughed  at 
him.  He  struck  all  his  sisters  on  several 
occasions,  and  once  took  up  a  four-pound 
weight  to  throw  at  my  wife.  I  have  seen 
him  pass  since  this  time,  but  never  have 
spoken  to  him  since  1833;  he  would  go 
about  the  house,  without  speaking,  for 
days  together,  but  would  talk  and  laugh 
to  himself  continually  in  his  own  chamber. 
It  was  the  general  impression  of  the  neigh- 
bors, that  Lawrence  was  insane  from  the 
beginning  of  1833. 

The  question  being  put  to  Mr.  Redfern, 
as  to  whether  Lawrence  held  two  estates 
in  Ireland,  the  answer  was  in  the  nega- 
tive. On  asking  Lawrence  the  names  of 
his  estates,  he  replied,  very  gravely,  "  Tre- 
gear  and  Kinnany  !  and  they  are  attached 
to  the  crown  of  England !  " 

Similar  in  its  bearing,  was  the  testi 
mony  of  Mr.  Drury,  who  had  known  Law- 
rence twenty-five  years,  and  who  stated 
the  following  facts :  For  the  last  year  I 
have  observed  a  change  in  his  conduct ;  he 
would  talk  to  himself  continually  in  his 

shop,    sometimes   saying,    ' him,   he 

does  not  know  his  enemy ;  I  will  put  a 
pistol — erect  a  gallows.'  He  conceived 
himself  to  be  King  Richard  the  Third,  of 


ATTEMPTED  ASSASSINATION   OF  PRESIDENT  JACKSON.       243 


England,  and  likewise  king  of  this  coun- 
try ;  this  was  about  the  latter  end  of  last 
December,  or  the  beginning  of  January, 
after  which,  I  heard  him  say,  ' Gen- 
eral Jackson !  who's  General  Jackson  ? ' 
On  one  occasion  a  black  boy  called  to  col- 
lect a  bill,  and  Lawrence  said  he  would 
call  and  pay  it ;  but,  as  soon  as  the  boy 

had   left,    he    said,  ' him !  he    don't 

know  who  he's  dunning ! '  He  would 
stand  at  the  door  for  hours,  wrapt  in 
thought,  and,  even  when  I  passed,  he  took 
no  notice  of  me.  He  was  continually 
talking  to  himself,  and  would  now  and  then 
burst  into  fits  of  laughter.  I  noticed  no 
particular  change  in  him  as  to  dress — he 
was  always  fond  of  dress, — but  I  did  in  his 
conduct  and  appearance.  I  have  often 
said  he  was  a  crazy  man,  and  have  heard 
others  say  so ;  the  boys  would  call  him 
'  King  Richard.'  On  the  morning  of  his 
attack  on  the  president,  he  came  to  the 
shop  at  the  usual  time,  and  went  to  a  place 
where  I  could  see  him  through  a  partition  ; 
he  was  sitting  on  a  chest,  with  a  book  in 
his  hand,  laughing.  I  heard  soon  after 
the  lid  of  the  chest  fall,  and  heard  him 
say,  '  I'll  be-  -  if  I  don't  do  it ! '  He 
then  came  out,  left  the  shop,  and  locked 
the  door.  Lawrence  did  some  little  work 
within  the  last  twelve  months,  and  had  a 
shop.  I  had  a  room  adjoining  this. 

Much  testimony  of  the  same  purport  as 
the  preceding  was  brought  forward,  and 
nothing  of  a  conflicting  character  pre- 
sented itself.  The  law,  in  criminal  cases, 


says  that  the  existence  of  reason  is  neces- 
sary to  constitute  punishable  crime — its 
deprivation  renders  the  individual  dispun- 
ishable.  Acting  upon  this  ground,  several 
physicians  were  examined  as  to  their  opin- 
ion of  Lawrence's  condition,  judging  from 
the  facts  drawn  out  by  the  evidence,  and 
their  personal  interviews  with  the  prisoner. 
Their  testimony  was  unanimous  in  de- 
claring Lawrence's  state  of  mind  to  be 
that  of  morbid  delusion, — not  possessing  a 
judgment  of  right  and  wrong,  especially  as 
to  anything  connected  with  General  Jack- 
son,— and  therefore  not  to  be  treated  as  a 
moral  agent.  Among  the  physicians  who 
expressed  this  as  their  decided  opinion, 
were  Messrs.  Coussin  and  Thomas  Sewell, 
two  of  the  most  eminent  in  their  profes- 
sion. 

In  accordance  with  the  evidence  thus 
given,  the  jury  were  out  only  five  minutes, 
returning  at  once  with  a  verdict  of  "  Not 
guilty,  he  having  been  under  the  influence 
of  insanity  at  the  time  of  committing  the 
act."  But,  long  before  the  trial  and  its 
termination,  the  intense  excitement  pro- 
duced by  the  act,  throughout  the  country, 
had  almost  entirely  subsided, — the  first 
impression,  that  the  horrid  deed  had  been 
prompted  by  secret  political  conspiracy, 
under  partisan  instigation,  rapidly  dying 
away,  as  the  true  character  of  the  man  and 
his  unaided  deed  became  known.  Law- 
rence was  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum,  wher« 
he  remained  aa  inmate  thirty  or  forty 
years. 


XXX. 

MORSE'S  INVENTION"  OF  THE  ELECTRIC  TELEGRAPH,  1835. 


Realization  of  the  Highest  Ideal  of  a  Mechanical  Miracle. — Principle,  Structure,  and  Operation  of  the 
Machine. — Net-work  of  Lines  Established  Over  the  Four  Continents. — The  Inventor's  Experiments, 
Labors,  Discouragements,  and  Triumphs. — "  Orders  of  Glory,"  Gifts,  and  other  Honors,  Bestowed 
Upon  Him  by  Crowned  Heads. — Casual  Origin  of  die  Invention. — Mr.  M.'s  European  Voyage  in  1832. 
— Recent  French  Experiments  then  Discussed. — Important  Question  and  Answer. — Two  Great  Ex- 
isting Facts. — The  Electric  Spark  Transmissive. — Easy  Control  of  the  Current. — Theory  Applied  to 
Practice. — Completion  of  a  Crude  Model — Private  Exhibition  in  1835. — Simplicity  of  the  Instru- 
ment.— The  Invention  Made  Public  in  1837. — Wonder  and  Incredulity. — Appeal  to  Congress  for 
Pecuniary  Aid. — Merciless  Ridicule  Ensues — Scene  in  the  Committee-Room. — A  Machine  at  the 
Capitol. — Perfect  in  its  Operation. — Success  of  Morse's  Appeal. — His  Joy  at  the  Decision. — Putting 
np  th»  Wires  to  Baltimore. — First  Message  Through. 


"That  itwd  c«11fd  'Lightning'  (my  the  Fltei) 
Is  owned  In  the  l.nHed  Statci: 
'Twas  Franklin's  hand  that  canpht  the  horsef 
'Twai  hnruo&eed  by  Profetior  .M<  r-c." 


LXGS    and    courts,    presidents   and   cabi™ets,    have 
united  in  doing  honor   to  that  illustrious  American 
citizen,  who,  more  than  any  other  man  of  his  race, 
has  realized  to  the  human  mind  its  highest  ideal,  or 
conception,  of  a  mechanical  miracle,  through  human 
agency.     It  is  not  claimed  that,  previous  to  Profes- 
sor Morse's  achievement,  the  possibility  of  applying 
electricity  to  telegraphic  communication  had  not  oc- 
cupied other  minds,  but   that  to  him  belongs  the 
high  merit  of  having  effected,  after  years  of  patient 
'-"-"      study   and   ingenious  experiment, 
a  practical  application  of  the  great 
scientific  principle  involved. 

In  the  year  1829,  Mr.  Morse, 
who  was  then  an  artist  of  much 
celebrity,  having,  more  than  fifteen 
years  previously,  exhibited  before 
the  Royal  Academy  of  England  his 
picture  of  "  The  Dying  Hercules," 
of  colossal  size,  made  a  second  pro- 
fessional visit  to  Europe,  where  he 
remained  three  years ;  and  it  was 
this  visit  which  proved,  through  a 
casual  circumstance,  of  so  much 
importance  to  himself,  to  science 
and  the  world, — for  it  was  on  his 
return  in  1832,  on  board  the  ship 
Sully,  that  he  made  that  great  dis- 
covery, to  which,  is  due  the  present 
system  of  telegraphing.  A  gentle- 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


245 


man  on  board  had  been  describing  some 
experiments  made  in  Paris  with  the 
electromagnet,  and  the  question  arose  as 
to  the  time  occupied  by  the  fluid  in  pass- 
ing through  the  wire,  stated  to  be  one  hun- 
dred feet  in  length.  On  the  reply  that  it 
was  instantaneous,  Professor  Morse  (recol- 
lecting the  experiments  of  Franklin,) 
suggested  that  it  might  be  carried  to  any 
distance  instantly,  and  that  the  electric 
spark  could  be  made  a  means  of  conveying 
and  recording  intelligence.  Here  was  the 
idea,  but  a  greater  triumph  was  the  appli- 
cation of  the  theory  to  practice,  which  he 
successfully  accomplished,  after  much 
study  and  multitudinous  trials,  in  New 
York,  where,  in  1835,  he  put  in  operation 
the  model  of  his  recording  electric  tele- 
graph. 

Professor  Morse's  discovery  was  based 
on  these  two  principal  facts,  namely :  that 
a  current  of  electricity  will  pass  to  any  dis- 
tance along  a  conductor  connecting  the  two 
poles  of  a  voltaic  battery,  and  produce 
visible  effects  at  any  desired  points  on  that 
conductor;  also,  that  magnetism  is  pro- 
duced in  a  piece  of  soft  iron,  around  which 
the  conductor,  in  its  progress,  is  made  to 
pass,  when  the  electric  current  is  permit- 
ted to  flow,  and  that  the  magnetism  ceases 
when  the  current  of  electricity  is  prevented 
from  flowing.  Hence,  if  the  end  of  a  soft 
iron  lever  be  placed  beneath  the  iron  to 
be  magnetized,  it  can  be  made  to  rise  and 
fall  as  the  electricity  flows,  or  is  inter- 
rupted. The  other  end  of  the  lever,  having 
a  point  in  it,  may  be  made  to  press  on  a 
strip  of  paper  or  not,  at  the  will  *of  the 
operator.  This  point  may  be  made  to  im- 
press a  dot  or  a  line,  at  pleasure.  A  dot 
and  a  line  may  represent  letters,  and  by 
different  combinations  of  dots  and  lines 
any  letter  of  the  alphabet  could  be  repre- 
sented. The  operator  in  one  city  could 
make  the  apparatus  in  another  city,  at  any 
distance,  write  what  he  pleased,  by  break- 
ing and  closing  the  circuit  at  longer  or 
shorter  intervals. 

The  invention,  as  thus  devised  by  Pro- 
fessor Morse,  and  as  described  in  a  popular 
way  by  Antisell,  Bakewell  and  others, 


is  a  recording  instrument,  that  embosses 
the  symbols  upon  paper,  with  a  point 
pressed  down  upon  it  by  an  electro-magnet ; 
the  symbols  that  form  the  alphabet  con- 
sisting of  combinations  of  short  and  long 
strokes,  and  made  to  stand  for  different 
letters,  by  their  repetitions  and  variations. 
Thus  a  stroke  followed  by  a  dot  signifies 
the  first  letter  of  the  alphabet ;  a  stroke 
preceded  by  a  dot,  the  second  letter ;  a 
single  dot,  the  third  letter ;  and  in  this 
manner  the  whole  alphabet  could  easily  be 
indicated,  the  number  of  repetitions  in  no 
case  exceeding  four  for  each  letter, — the 
letters  and  words  being  distinguished  from 
one  another  by  a  longer  space  being  left 
between  them  than  between  each  mark 
that  forms  only  a  part  of  a  letter  or  of  a 
word. 

Simplicity  characterized  this  instrument 
in  an  eminent  degree.  The  transmitter  is 
merely  a  spring  key,  like  that  of  a  musical 
instrument,  which,  on  being  pressed  down, 
makes  contact  with  the  voltaic  battery, 
and  sends  an  electric  current  to  the  receiv- 
ing station.  The  operator  at  the  trans- 
mitting station,  by  thus  making  contact, 
brings  into  action  an  electro-magnet  at  the 
station  he  communicates  with,  and  that  pulls 
down  a  point  fixed  to  the  soft-iron  lever 
upon  a  strip  of  paper  that  is  kept  mov- 
ing by  clock-work  slowly  under  it.  The 
duration  of  the  pressure  on  the  key, 
whether  instantaneous  or  prolonged  for  a 
moment,  occasions  the  difference  in  the 
lengths  of  the  lines  indented  on  the  paper. 
A  single  circuit  is  sufficient  for  the  pur- 
pose, as  well  as  very  effective. 

•  As  the  working  of  this  telegraph  depends 
upon  bringing  into  action  at  the  receiving  , 
station  an  electro-magnet  of  force  equal  to 
mechanically  indenting  paper,  and  as  the 
resistance  to  the  passage  of  electricity 
along  the  wires  diminishes  the  quantity 
transmitted  so  greatly,  that  at  long  dis- 
tances it  was  supposed  to  be  almost 
impossible  to  obtain  sufficient  power  for 
the  purpose,  if  it  acted  directly, — to  over- 
come this  difficulty,  an  auxiliary  electro- 
magnet was  employed.  The  electro- 
magnet which  is  directly  in  connection 


246 


MOKSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


with  the  telegraph  wire  is  a  small  one, 
surrounded  by  about  five  hundred  yards 
or  more  of  very  fine  wire,  for  the  purpose 
of  multiplying  as  much  as  possible  the 
effect  of  the  feeble  current  that  is  trans- 
mitted. The  soft-iron  keeper,  which  is 
attracted  by  the  magnet,  is  also  very  light, 
so  that  it  may  be  the  more  readily  attracted. 
This  highly  sensitive  instrument  serves  to 
make  and  break  contact  with  a  local  bat- 
tery, which  brings  into  action  a  large 
electro-magnet,  and  as  the  local  battery 
and  the  magnet  are  close  to  the  place 
where  the  work  is  to  be  done,  any  required 
force  may  be  easily  obtained. 

The  batteries  used  are  Grove's  zinc  and 
platinum,  and  two  liquids  ;  any  number  of 
these  may  be  used.  To  form  the  electric 


THE  ORIGINAL  INSTRUMENT. 

circuit,  one  end  of  a  copper  wire  is  attached 
to  the  end  platina  plate,  and  the  other 
end  of  the  copper  wire  to  the  zinc  cylinder. 
A  wire  is  not  required  to  run  round  all 
the  circuit — any  metallic  connection,  such 
as  brass  plates,  etc.,  may  form  part  of  it. 
In  the  practical  working  of  the  telegraph, 
— the  battery  with  the  key  attached,  and 
a  small  table,  being  supposed,  for  example, 
to  be  at  the  Philadelphia  station,  and  the 
telegraph  register  to  be  at  New  York, — 
a  wire  runs  from  the  platina  plate  up  to 
the  metallic  binding  screw  connection  on 


the  small  table,  and  the  other  wire  runs 
from  the  zinc,  and  is  connected  by  the  first 
wire  by  the  metallic  connection  of  the 
register  at  New  York.  This  forms  the 
circuit.  The  key  is  fixed  upon  a  pivot 
axis,  to  be  gently  pressed  by  the  operator's 
fingers  on  the  top  of  an  ivory  button. 
The  circuit  is  now  broken,  and  a  small  gap 
in  the  key  above  the  wire  from  the  battery 
-shows  the  metallic  connection  to  be  open. 
By  pressing  upon  the  butt  end  of  the  key, 
its  metal  surface  comes  in  contact  with  the 
metal  termination  of  the  wire  from  the 
battery,  and  then  the  circuit  is  closed,  and 
the  electric  fluid  fleets  along  to  the  distant 
station. 

In  connection  with  the  register,  there 
is,  as  has  already  been  stated,  a  strip  or 
ribbon  of  paper  passing  from  the  roll 
between  two  small  metal  rollers  of  the 
register.  This  strip  is  drawn  through 
between  the  rollers  by  their  motion,  they 
revolving  towards  the  paper  roll,  drawing 
in  the  paper, — motion  being  given  to  these 
rollers  by  a  train  of  clock-work  gear  wheels, 
moved  by  the  weight  below  the  machine. 
The  upper  small  roll  has  a  small  groove  run- 
ning around  its  periphery,  and  the  ribbon 
of  paper  is  drawn  through  against  its 
under  surface.  The  instrument  for  in- 
denting the  paper  is  suspended  on  a 
pivot  axis  at  its  middle,  and  its  action  is 
like  a  walking-beam,  though  the  stroke 
made  is  very  short.  This  pen-lever  is 
very  nicely  poised,  and  at  its  extreme  end 
from  the  paper  its  stroke  is  neatly  regu- 
lated by  a  set  or  button  screw.  The  metal 
pen  is  attached  to  the  lever  and  fixed  on  a 
pivot  like  a  walking-beam.  When  one 
end  is  drawn  down,  the  other  end  flies  up, 
and,  having  a  steel  point  on  it,  it  marks 
the  strip  of  paper,  already  described  as 
running  along  a  roller,  and  which  is  drawn 
along  between  other  two  rollers.  Then, 
by  letting  the  other  end  of  this  pen 
come  up,  the  steel  point  drops,  and 
then  it  is  thrown  up  again,  leaving  a  space 
between  the  two  marks  on  the  paper.  As, 
therefore,  the  paper  is  always  moving  and, 
as  the  point  is  held  to  it  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  time,  marks  are  made — as  before 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


247 


explained — of  dots,  spaces  and  dashes,  and 
by  a  combination  of  these  the  whole 
alphabet  is  formed,  the  letters  made  into 
words,  and  the  words  into  sentences.  The 
electro-magnet  is  fitted  with  an  armature, 
whose  attraction  and  withdrawal  gives 
motion  to  the  lever.  Instead  of  reading 
off  from  the  strip  of  paper,  operators  in 
*ime  trusted  to  sound. 

But,  though  Professor  Morse  exhibited 
the  model  of  his  recording  apparatus  in 
1835  and  1836,  it  was  not  until  after  some 
years'  additional  toil  that  he  brought  it  to 
the  above-described  efficiency  and  its  sub- 
sequent improvement  and  perfection.  He 
made  no  efforts  to  bring  the  matter 
definitely  before  the  public  until  the 
autumn  of  1837,  when,  in  its  advanced 
state  of  completion,  he  exhibited  to  an 
appreciating  and  wonder-struck  auditory, 
its  marvelous  operation.  The  announce- 
ment of  the  invention  and  its  astonishing 
capacity,  was  for  a  long  time  the  most 
prominent  theme  of  public  and  private 
discussion,  admiration  being  largely  min- 
gled with  blank  incredulity,  and  not  a  little 
ridicule.  Even  in  congress,  on  the  appli- 
cation of  Professor  Morse  for  government 
aid,  to  enable  him  to  demonstrate  the  value 
of  his  invention  by  constructing  a  line 
between  Washington  and  Baltimore,  in 
1838,  there  were  not  found  wanting  learned 
legislators  who  treated  the  idea  as  a  mere 
chimera.  It,  was  the  same  congress  of 
which  Espy,  the  "  Storm  King,"  was 
asking  assistance,  to  test  his  favorite 
theory,  then  so  prominently  discussed. 

Both  Morse  and  Espy,  says  a  writer  of 
that  time  and  the  event,  became  the  butt 
of  ridicule,  the  target  of  merciless 
arrows  of  wit.  They  were  voted  down- 
right bores,  and  the  idea  of  giving  them 
money  was  pronounced  farcical.  They 
were  considered  monomaniacs,  and  as  such 
were  laughed  at,  punned  upon,  and  made 
the  standing  staple  for  jokes.  One  morn- 
ing, however,  a  gentleman  rose  from  his 
seat  in  the  house — quite  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  everybody,  for  he  had  never  been 
known  to  speak  before,  unless  it  was  to 
vote  or  to  address  the  speaker, — and  said, 


"I  hold  in  my  hand  a  resolution,  which  I 
respectfully  offer  for  the  consideration  of 
the  house."  In  a  moment  a  page  was  at 
his  desk,  and  the  resolution  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  speaker  and  by  him  delivered 
to  the  clerk,  who  read  as  follows : 
"  Resolved,  That  the  committee  of  ways 
and  means  be  instructed  to  inquire  into 
the  expediency  of  appropriating  $30,000, 
to  enable  Professor  Morse  to  establish  a 
line  of  telegraph  between  Washington  and 
Baltimore."  The  gentleman  who  offered 
it  was  Mr.  Ferris,  one  of  the  New  York 
representatives,  a  man  of  wealth  and 
learning,  but  modest,  retiring,  and  diffi- 
dent. 

'iais  being  merely  a  resolution  of 
ino,uiry,  it  passed  without  opposition,  and, 
oul  of  regard  to  the  mover,  without  com- 
ment. In  time,  it  came  before  the  com- 
mittee, all  the  members  of  which  had,  by 
their  public  services  and  brilliant  talents, 
acquired  a  national  reputation.  The  clerk 
of  the  committee  read  the  resolution. 
The  chairman,  Mr.  Fillmore,  in  a  clear, 
distinct  voice,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  what 
disposition  shall  be  made  of  it  ?  "  There 
was  a  dead  pause  around  the  table.  No 
one  seemed  inclined  to  take  the  initiative. 
It  was  expected  that,  inasmuch  as  the 
mover  of  the  resolution  in  the  house  was  a 
democrat,  the  democratic  side  of  the  com- 
mittee would  stand  god-father  to  it  there. 
But  not  a  bit  of  it.  They  felt  that  the 
whole  thing  was  preposterous  and  deserv- 
ing of  no  countenance.  At  length,  one  on 
the  other  side  broke  the  ominous  silence 
by  moving  that  the  committee  instruct 
the  chairman  to  report  a  bill  to  the  house, 
appropriating  thirty  thousand  dollars  for 
the  purpose  named  in  the  resolution. 

This  movement  "brought  them  all  up 
standing ! "  No  speeches  were  made. 
The  question  was  called  for.  The  yeas 
and  nays  were  taken  alphabetically,  and, 
as  four  had  voted  on  the  affirmative  side, 
and  four  on  the  negative,  it  fell  to  the  lot 
of  Governor  Wallace,  of  Indiana,  whose 
name  came  last  on  the  list,  to  decide  the 
question.  He,  however,  had  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  the  matter,  and,  like  the.  majority  of 


248 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


people,  considered  it  a  great  humbug.  He 
had  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the  importance 
to  his  country,  of  the  vote  he  was  to  cast. 
But  as  fortune  would  have  i-t,  the  thought 
came  to  mind  that  Mr.  Morse  was  even 
then  experimenting  in  the  capitol  with  the 
"  new-fangled  invention,"  having  stretched 
a  wire  from  the  basement  story  to  the 
ante-room  of  the  senate  chamber.  It  was 
therefore  in  Governor  Wallace's  power  to 
satisfy  himself  at  once  in  regard  to  the 
question  of  feasibility,  and  he  determined 
to  try  it.  He  asked  leave  to  consider  his 
vote.  This  was  granted.  He  imme- 
diately stepped  out  of  the  committee  room, 
and  went  to  the  ante-chamber,  which  was 
lound  crowded  with  representatives  and 
strangers.  Governor  Wallace  requested 
permission  to  put  a  question  to  the  "  mad- 
man "  (Morse)  at  the  other  end  of  the 
srire.  It  was  granted  immediately.  He 


wrote  the  question  and  handed  it  to  the 
telegrapher.  The  crowd  cried  "read! 
read!  "  In  a  very  short  time  the  answer 
was  received.  When  written  out  by  the 
operator,  the  same  cry  of  "  read  it  !  read 
it !  "  went  up  from  the  crowd. 

To   his   utter   astonishment,    Governor 
Wallace  found  that  the  madman  at  that  end 


of  the  wire  had  more  wit  and  force  than  the 
congressmen  at  the  other — the  laugh  was 
turned  completely  upon  the  committee-man. 
But,  as  western  men  are  rarely  satisfied 
with  one  fall — not  less  than  two  failures 
out  of  three  attempts  forcing  from  them 
any  acknowledgment  of  defeat,  —  the 
governor  put  a  second  yuestion,  and  there 
came  a  second  answer.  If  the  first  raised 
a  laugh  at  his  expense,  the  second  convert- 
ed that  laugh  into  a  roar  and  a  shout. 
He  was  more  than  satisfied.  Picking  up 
his  hat,  he  bowed  himself  out  of  the 
crowd,  the  good-natured  shout  following 
him  as  he  passed  along  the  passages  and 
halls  of  the  capitol. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  Governor  Wallace 
voted  in  the  affirmative  of  the  motion  then 
pending  before  the  committee,  and  it 
prevailed.  The  chairman  reported  the 
bill,  the  house  and  senate  concurred  in  its 
passage,  and  thus  was  Professor  Morse 
successful  in  this  his  last  struggle  to 
demonstrate  the  practicability  of — as 
it  has  proved — the  most  amazing  in- 
vention of  the  age,  the  electro-mag- 
netic telegraph.  If  the  committee  had 
ignored  the  proposition,  there  is  no 
telling  what  would  have  been  the  result. 
That  the  experiment  would  have  been 
finally  made,  no  one  can  entertain  a 
doubt.  But  when  or  by  whom  is  the 
question.  It  was  not  within  the  range 
of  ordinary  individual  fortune  to  make 
it,  and,  if  it  was,  none  but  Professor 
Morse  would  have  hazarded  it. 

It  appears,  however,  that  Professor 
Morse  came  to  the  last  stage  of  discour- 
agement, in  the  prosecution  of  his  appeal 
to  congress,  before  light  finally  broke 
in  upon  him.  On  the  very  last  day  of 
the  session,  the  bill  relating  to  his 
case  was  the  one  hundred  and  twenti- 
eth on  the  senate  docket,  to  be  acted  upon 
in  course.  Concerning  this  scene,  a 
writer  in  Harper's  Monthly  states,  that 
during  the  entire  day  Professor  Morse 
watched  the  course  of  legislation  from  the 
gallery  with  nervous  trepidation  and  the 
deepest  anxiety.  At  length,  worn  out 
by  the  interminable  discussion  of  some 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


249 


senator  who  seemed  to  be  speaking 
against  time,  and  overcome  by  his 
prolonged  watching,  he  left  the  gallery  at 
a  late  hour  and  went  to  his  lodgings, 
under  the  belief  that  it  was  not  possible 
his  bill  could  be  reached,  and  that  he  must 
again  turn  his  attention  to  those  labors  of 
the  brush  and  easel  by  means  of  which  he 
might  be  enabled  to  prosecute  appeals  to 
congress  at  a  future  time.  He  accordingly 
made  his  preparations  to  return  to  New 
York  on  the  following  morning,  and 
retiring  to  rest,  sank  into  a  profound 
slumber,  from  which  he  did  not  awake 
until  a  late  hour  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. But  a  short  time  after,  while  seated 
at  the  breakfast-table,  the  servant  an- 
nounced that  a  lad}'  desired  to  see  him. 
Upon  entering  the  parlor,  he  found  Miss 
Annie  Ellsworth,  the  daughter  of  the 
Commissioner  of  Patents,  whose  face  was 
all  aglow  with  pleasure. 

''  /  have  come  to  congratulate  you"  she 
remarked,  as  he  entered  the  room,  and 
approached  to  shake  hands  with  her. 

"  To  congratulate  me  ! "  replied  Mr. 
Morse,  "  and  for  what  ?  " 

"  Why,  upon  the  passage  of  your  bill, 
to  be  sure"  she  replied. 

"  You  must  surely  be  mistaken ;  for  I 
left  at  a  late  hour,  and  its  fate  seemed 
inevitable." 

"Indeed  I  am  not  mistaken,"  she  re- 
joined; "father  remained  until  the  close 
of  the  session,  and  your  bill  was  the  very 
last  that  was  acted  on,  and  I  begged 
permission  to  convey  to  you  the  news. 
I  am  so  happy  that  I  am  the  first  to  tell 

you." 

The  feelings  of  Professor  Morse  may  be 
better  imagined  than  described.  He 
grasped  his  young  companion  warmly  by 
the  hand,  and  thanked  her  over  and  over 
again  for  the  joyful  intelligence,  saying — 

"  As  a  reward  for  being  the  first  bearer 
of  this  news,  you  shall  send  over  the  tele- 
graph the  first  message  it  conveys." 

"I  will  hold  you  to  that  promise," 
replied  she ;  "  Remember  !  " 

"  Remember !  "  responded  Professor 
Morse ;  and  they  parted. 


The  plans  of  Mr.  Morse  were  now  alto- 
gether changed.  His  journey  homeward 
was  abandoned,  and  he  set  to  work  to  carry 
out  the  project  of  establishing  the  line  of 
electro-telegraph,  between  Washington  and 
Baltimore,  authorized  by  the  bill.  His 
first  idea  was  to  convey  the  wires,  inclosed 
in  a  leaden  tube,  beneath  the  ground.  He 
had  already  arranged  a  plan  by  which  the 
wires,  insulated  by  a  covering  of  cotton 
saturated  in  gum  shellac,  were  to  be 
inserted  into  leaden  pipes  in  the  process 
of  casting.  But  after  the  expenditure  of 
several  thousand  dollars,  and  much  delay 
this  plan  was  given  up,  and  the  one  now 
in  use,  of  extending  them  on  poles, 
adopted. 

By  the  month  of  May,  1844,  the  whole 
line  was  laid,  and  magnets  and  recording 
instruments  were  attached  to  the  ends  of 
the  wires  at  Mount  Clare  Depot,  Balti- 
more, and  at  the  supreme  court  chamber, 
in  the  capitol  at  Washington.  When  the 
circuit  was  complete,  and  the  signal  at  the 
one  end  of  the  line  was  responded  to  by 
the  operator  at  the  other,  Mr.  Morse  sent 
a  messenger  to  Miss  Ellsworth  to  inform 
her  that  the  telegraph  awaited  her  mes- 
sage. She  speedily  responded  to  this,  and 
sent  for  transmission  the  following,  which 
was  the  first  formal  dispatch  ever  sent 
through  a  telegraphic  wire  connecting 
remote  places  with  each  other : 

"  WHAT  HATH  GOD  WROUGHT  !  " 

The  original  of  the  message  is  now  in 
the  archives  of  the  Historical  Society  at 
Hartford,  Connecticut.  The  practicability 
and  utility  of  the  invention  were  now 
clearly  and  firmly  established. 

Of  the  subsequent  history  and  triumphs 
of  this  invention,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
here  to  speak.  The  lines  of  telegraphic 
communication  which  now,  like  a  web, 
traverse  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
republic,  and  which,  indeed,  connect  and 
cover  as  with  a  ne'  -work  the  four  conti- 
nents of  the  globe,- -these  attest  the  vast- 
ness,  influence  and  power,  of  this  amazing 
invention.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  specify 
the  details  of  those  various  mechanical 
improvements  in  the  construction  and 


250 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


working  of  the  apparatus,  as  also  its  diver- 
sified adaptation,  brought  forward  by  the 
fertile  genius  of  Morse,  as  well  as  by 
House,  Hughes,  Phelps,  Shaffner,  O'Reilly, 
Vail,  Farmer,  Page,  Hicks,  Ritchie,  etc., 
and  which  have  secured  to  the  whole  system 
of  telegraphy  its  present  wonderful  degree 
of  scientific  perfection,  bringing  to  the 
discoverer  fame  arid  pecuniary  fortune  at 
home,  and  also  the  most  splendid  medals, 
decorations  of  honor,  and  "  golden  gifts," 
from  nearly  all  the  crowned  heads  of 
Europe.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that  the 
first  kingly  acknowledgment  received  by 
Professor  Morse,  was  the  "Order  of 
Glory"  from  the  Sultan  of  Turkey.  The 
rulers  of  Prussia,  Wurtemberg,  and  Aus- 
tria, sent  him  superb  gold  medals;  the 
emperor  of  the  French  made  him  a  Cheva- 
lier of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  instituted  by 
Napoleon  the  First ;  while  Denmark  made 
him  one  of  the  knightly  "Dannebrog," 
and  Spain  a  Knight  Commander  of  the 
Order  of  Isabella  the  Catholic. 


powerful  an  enemy  Abd-el-Kader  proved 
himself  to  the  French,  during  the  career 
of  conquest  undertaken  by  the  latter  in 
Algeria.  On  a  certain  occasion,  during 
that  terrific  struggle,  the  French  telegraph 
made  the  announcement :  "  Abd-el-Kader 

has  been  taken ;"  a  fog,  however, 

enveloped  the  remainder  of  the  sentence 
in  obscurity.  The  excitement,  neverthe- 
kss,  in  the  money  market,  was  at  fever 
height,  at  the  supposed  capture  of  that 
adroit  enemy,  and  the  funds  rose  tremen- 
dously. The  following  day,  the  sentence 
being  completed,  the  intelligence  ran  thus : 
"Abd-el-Kader  has  been  taken  with  a 
dreadful  cold  in  his  head."  The  funds 
fell,  but  the  coup — which  was  worthy  of  a 
Rothschild's  subtlety  —  had  been  suffi- 
ciently successful  for  those  who  managed 
to  make  the  telegraph  play  into  the  hands 
of  their  financial  agents. 

A  case  of  a  somewhat  different  character 
— one  involving  the  "  tender  passion  " — 
was  the  following.  A  daughter  of  one  of 


ORDERS  OF  GLORY  CONFERRED  ON  PROFESSOR  MORSE. 


An  example  or  two  of  the  humorous 
side  of  the  telegraph  may  here  be  given, 
as  a  kind  of  side-relief  to  a  subject 
liable  to  be  regarded  as  somewhat  exclu- 
sively involving  abstract  philosophical 
science  and  the  technical  minutiae  of  its 
application. 

Probably   no   one  is   ignorant   of   how 


the  wealthiest  merchants  in  Boston,  Mass., 
had  formed  an  attachment  for  a  handsome 
young  man,  who  was  a  clerk  in  her  father's 
counting-house.  The  father  having  heard 
of  the  attachment,  feigned  ignorance  of  it, 
with  a  view  of  enabling  him  more  success- 
fully to  adopt  measures  that  would  break 
it  off.  For  this  purpose  he  directed  the 


1 


MORSE'S  INVENTION  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH. 


251 


young  man  ;o  proceed  to  England,  upon 
business;  and  the  lover  accordingly  ar- 
rived, on  his  route,  in  New  York.  In  the 
meantime,  the  enamored  young  lady  had 
got  an  inkling  of  her  father's  intentions, 
and  wishing  to  frustrate  them  effectually, 
sent  a  message  to  that  effect  to  her  lover 
in  New  York,  by  the  following  expedient: 
She  took  her  place  in  the  telegraph  office 
in  Boston,  and  he  did  the  same  with  a 
magistrate,  in  the  New  York  office ;  and 
now,  the  exchange  of  consent  being  duly 
given  by  the  electric  flash,  they  were  mar- 
ried by  telegraph !  Shortly  after,  the 
lady's  father  insisted  upon  her  marriage 
with  the  gentleman  he  had  selected  for 
her ;  and  judge  of  his  amazement  when 
she  told  him  that  she  was  already  married 
— the  wife  of  Mr.  B.,  then  on  his  way  to 
England;  adding  an  explanation  of  the 
novel  way  in  which  the  ceremony  was  per- 
formed. And  so  the  matter  ended ;  adding 
another  to  the  triumphs  of  love  and — 
electricity ! 

During  the  revolutionary  excitement  in 
Europe,  in  1848,  the  astounding  report 
flashed  across  Europe,  that  the  king  of 
Prussia  had  abdicated !  The  statement 
originated  with  the  electric  telegraph, 
which  sent  the  following  dispatch  :  "  The 
— King  of — Prussia — has — gone  to  Pot — ." 
In  another  minute,  the  communication  in 
this  form  was  on  its  way  to  the  news- 
paper bulletins,  and  was  immediately  tele- 
graphed thence  in  every  dirsction.  Not 
long  after,  however,  the  dial  was  again 
agitated,  and  then  "* — dam"  was  added; 
making  the  very  quiet  piece  of  news. 


"The  King  of  Prussia  has  gone  to  PotB- 
dam." 

In  the  early  days  of  telegraphing,  the 
competition  for  priority  among  the  lead- 
ing journals  was  very  great,  and  feats  were 
performed  which,  for  that  day  of  the  art's 
infancy,  were  indeed  marvelous.  One 
instance  will  suffice : 

An  important  speech  by  Mr.  Clay  was 
much  looked  for.  It  was  delivered  in 
Lexington,  Ky.,  on  a  Saturday,  and  the 
proprietor  of  the  New  York  Herald  deter- 
mined on  beating  his  contemporaries. 
Express  riders  were  ready,  and  in  less 
than  five  hours  a  full  report  of  the  speech 
was  in  Cincinnati.  Notifications  had  been 
sent  along  the  line  of  telegraph  to  "look 
out ; "  and  at  four  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  publisher  of  the  Herald  had 
the  speech  before  him  in  New  York — the 
distance  being  more  than  eleven  hundred 
miles.  This  was  done  during  a  heavy  rain, 
and  while  a  thunder  shower  was  passing 
over  a  portion  of  both  the  eastern  and 
western  lines.  At  Cincinnati,  where  it 
was  to  be  copied  in  passing,  the  telegraph 
suddenly  ceased  working,  to  the  dismay  of 
the  superintendent.  .Being  short  of  proper 
hands,  he  mounted  a  horse,  and  followed 
the  line,  through  the  pelting  storm,  until 
he  found  a  break,  caused  by  the  falling  of 
a  tree,  beyond  Turtle  Creek,  a  distance  of 
twenty-one  miles.  He  finished  mending 
the  break  at  dark,  and  then  returned  to 
the  city,  where,  in  the  temporary  absence 
of  other  competent  operators,  received  the 
speech  and  sent  it  to  New  York,  finishing 
it  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 


XXXI. 

STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CON- 
GRESS.—1836. 


John  Quincy  Adams,  the  "  Old  Man  Eloquent,"  Carries  on  a  Contest  of  Eleven  Days,  Single-Handed, 
in  its  Defense,  in  the  House  of  Representatives  — Passage  of  the  "  Gag  Rule."— Expulsion  and  Assas- 
sination Threatened. — His  Unquaiiing  Courage. — A  Spectacle  Unwitnessed  Before  in  the  Halls  of 
Legislation  — Triumph  of  His  Master  Mind. — The  Highland  Petitiona  Constitutional  One. — Indiscrim- 
inate and  Unrestricted. — Anti-Slavery  Petitions. — Mr.  Adams  Their  Champion. — An  Unpopular  Posi- 
tion.— He  Defies  every  Menace. — His  Bold  and  Intrepid  Conduct. — The  North  and  South  at  Variance. 
Monster  Petitions  Pour  In  — A  Memorial  from  Slaves. — Wild  Tumult  in  the  House. — Cries  of  "  Expel 
the  Old  Scoundrel ! " — Proposal  to  Censure  and  Disgrace  Him  — Mr.  Adams  Unmoved  Amidst  the 
Tempest. — Eloquence  and  Indomitableness  — A  Petition  to  Dissolve  the  Union. — Increased  Exasper- 
ation.— Violent  and  Denunciatory  Debate. — Sublime  Bearing  of  Mr.  Adams. — Vindicated  and  Vic- 
torious at  Last— What  He  Lived  to  See.— Honor  from  His  Opponents. 


"  Though  aged,  he  wa»  K>  iron  of  limb, 
None  of  the  youth  could  cope  with  htmt 
And  the  fitrn  whom  ha  singly  kept  at  bay, 
Outnumbered  his  hairs  of  white  and  gray. 


JENERABLE  in  years,  and  laden  with  political 
honors — such  as  a  king  might  be  proud  of,  John 
Quincy  Adams  took  his  seat  as  a  member  of  the 
house  of  representatives  at  Washington,  in  1831. 
It  was  about  this  time,  that  the  anti-slavery  socie- 
ties of  the  North  began  to  petition  congress  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  the 
inhibition  of  the  inter-state  slave-trade,  and  kin- 
dred measures.  Though  comparatively  few  at  the 
outset,  the  petitioners  for  these  objects  increased 
greatly  in  numbers  during  the  next  four  or  five 
years,  until  they  reached,  in  one  congress,  three- 
fourths  of  a  million.  But  not  all  of  these  petition- 
ers were  'abolitionists,'  in  the  then  commonly 
accepted  meaning  of  that  term.  In  the  defense  of 
the  untrammeled  right  of  petition,  as  also  that  of 

MONSTER  PETITION  TO  CONGRESS.  the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  it  became 
erident  to  considerate  men,  of  all  parties,  that  not  alone  was  the  right  to  discuss  and 
petition  in  regard  to  slavery  involved,  but  that  vital  constitutional  principles  were  at 
stake,  and  that  these  must  be  defended,  irrespective  of  the  merits  of  the  particular  sub- 
ject over  which  the  battle  was  waged.  It  was  upon  this  broad  ground  that  Mr.  Adams, 


STRUGGLE  FOE  THE  EIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


'  the  old  man  eloquent,'  as  he  was  famil- 
iarly called,  became  at  once  the  champion 
of  freedom  of  debate  and  the  right  of  peti- 
tion in  the  national  legislature,  making 
not  America  only,  but  the  civilized  world, 
resound  with  the  clash  of  the  conflict.  Of 
the  long  and  eventful  life  of  this  extraor- 
dinary man,  the  chapter  covering  the 
events  here  recorded  may  perhaps  be 
regarded  as  the  most  striking  and  brilliant. 
The  exalted  positions  he  had  held,  almost 
from  the  very  foundation  of  the  govern- 
ment, his  multifarious  learning,  his  world- 
wide renown,  lent  luster  to  the  cause ; 
while  his  exhaustless  resources,  his  skill  in 
debate,  his  dauntless  courage  and  indomit- 
able will,  were  a  tower  of  strength  to  its 
friends,  and,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  a 
source  of  mortification  and  discomfit- 
ure to  its  foes.  No  threats  and  no  tu- 
mults could  for  a  moment  cause  him  to 
quail  or  waver  in  his  heroic  determina- 
tion. 

On  the  twelfth  of  December,  1831,  Mr. 
Adams,  then  at  the  very  outset  of  his  con- 
gressional career,  presented  fifteen  peti- 
tions, all  numerously  signed,  from  inhabi- 
tants of  Pennsylvania,  praying  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  and  the  slave-trade  in 
the  District  of  Columbia.  In  presenting 
these  petitions,  Mr.  Adams  remarked,  that 
although  the  petitioners  were  not  his 
immediate  constituents,  he  inferred,  from  a 
letter  which  accompanied  the  petitions, 
that  they  came  from  members  of  the  Soci- 
ety of  Friends,  or  Quakers,  —  a  body  of 
men,  hs  declared,  than  whom  there  was  no 
more  respectable  and  worth}'  class  of  citi- 
zens in  the  whole  country.  At  the  same 
time,  while  he  considered  that  the  petitions 
for  the  abolition  of  the  slave-trade  in  the 
District  related  to  a  proper  subject  for  the 
legislation  of  Congress,  he  did  not  approve 
of  those  which  prayed  for  the  congressional 
abolition  of  slavery  there. 

Similar  petitions  were  constantly  for- 
warded from  different  parts  of  the  land, 
during  successive  terms  of  congress,  for 
Mr.  Adams  to  present,  the  parties  well 
knowing  that  they  could  rely  upon  his 
scrupulous  fidelity  to  them  in  the  high 


places  of  power,  and  that,  against  all  men- 
aces or  blandishments,  hu  would  intrepidly 
advocate  that  most  sacred  privilege  of  free- 
men— the  right  of  petition. 

Becoming  alarmed  at  these  demonstra- 
tions, the  southern  members  of  congress 
determined  to  arrest  them,  and,  on  the 
eighth  of  February,  1836,  a  committee  of 
the  house  was  appointed  to  consider  what 
disposition  should  be  made  of  petitions  and 
memorials  of  this  nature.  The  report  of 
this  committee  consisted,  in  substance,  of 
three  resolutions,  as  follows :  First,  that 
congress  could  not  constitutionally  inter- 
fere with  slavery  in  anj'  of  the  states ; 
second,  that  it  ought  not  to  interfere  with 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia ;  third, 
that  all  petitions,  propositions,  or  papers  of 
any  kind,  relating  to  the  subject,  should, 
if  brought  before  congress,  be  laid  upon 
the  table,  without  liberty  of  debate,  and 
receive  no  further  action.  This  report 
was  the  casting  of  the  die.  Well  was  it 
called  the  "  Gag  Eule." 

When  the  first  of  these  resolutions  was 
taken  up,  Mr.  Adams  said,  if  the  house 
would  allow  him  five  minutes'  time,  he 
would  prove  the  resolution  to  be  untrue. 
His  request  was  denied.  On  the  third 
declaration,  Mr.  Adams  refused  to  vote, 
and  sent  to  the  speaker's  chair  the  follow- 
ing protest,  demanding  that  it  should  be 
placed  on  the  journal  of  the  house,  there 
to  stand  to  the  latest  posterity : 

"  I  hold  the  resolution  to  be  a  direct  vio- 
lation of  the  constitution  of  the  United 
States,  of  the  rules  of  this  house,  and  of 
the  rights  of  my  constituents." 

Notwithstanding  the  rule  embodied  in 
this  resolution  virtuallj1  trampled  the  right 
of  petition  into  the  dust,  yet  it  was  adopted 
by  the  house,  by  a  large  majority.  But 
Mr.  Adams  was  not  to  be  baffled  by  this 
arbitrary  restriction.  Petitions  on  the 
subject  of  slavery  continued  to  be  trans- 
mitted to  him  in  increased  numbers,  some 
of  them  of  monster  size,  bearing  thousands 
of  signatures.  With  unwavering  firmness 
— against  a  bitter  and  unscrupulous  oppo- 
sition, exasperated  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
his  unconquerable  pertinacity  —  amidst  a 


254 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


perfect  tempest  of  vituperation  and  abuse 
— he  persevered,  unvanquished,  in  present- 
ing these  petitions,  one  by  one,  to  the 
amount  sometimes  of  two  hundred  in  a 
day,  and  demanding  the  attention  of  the 
house  on  each  ssparate  petition.  His 
position  in  these  scenes, — advocating, 
amidst  scorn  and  derision,  and  threats  of 
expulsion  and  assassination,  the  inalienable 


right  of  petition  for  the  poorest  and  hum- 
blest in  the  land, — was  in  the  highest 
degree  illustrious  and  sublime  ;  a  spectacle 
unwitnessed  before  in  the  halls  of  legisla- 
tion. 

On  the  sixth  of  January,  1837,  Mr. 
Adams  presented  the  petition  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  women,  whom  he  stated  to 
be  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his  immedi- 
ate constituents,  praying  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia; 
and  he  moved  that  the  petition  be  read. 
Objection  was  made,  whereupon  Mr. 
Adams  remarked  that,  understanding  that 
it  was  not  the  petition  itself  which  was 
laid  upon  the  table,  but  the  motion  to 
receive,  he  gave  notice  that  he  should  call 
up  that  motion,  for  decision,  every  day,  so 
long  as  freedom  of  speech  was  allowed  to 
him  as  a  member  of  the  house.  Being 
called  to  order  at  this  stage  of  proceedings, 
Mr.  Adams  said  he  would  then  have  the 
honor  of  presenting  to  the  house  the  peti- 
tion of  two  hundred  and  twenty-eight 
women,  the  wives  and  daughters  of  his 


immediate  constituents ;  and,  as  a  part  Qi 
the  speech  which  he  intended  to  make,  he 
would  take  the  liberty  of  reading  the  peti- 
tion, which  was  not  long,  and  would  not 
consume  much  time.  Objection  being 
made  to  the  reception  of  the  petition,  Mr. 
Adams  at  once  proceeded  to  read,  that  the 
petitioners,  inhabitants  of  South  Wey- 
mouth,  in  the  state  of  Massachusetts, 
"  impressed  with  the  siiifulness  of  slavery, 
and  keenly  aggrieved  by  its  existence  ir> 
a  part  of  our  country  over  which  con- 
gress   " 

Here  Mr.  Pinckney,  of  South  Carolina, 
rose  to  a  question  of  order,  and,  after  a 
brisk  colloquy  in  the  house,  the  speaker 
ruled  that  Mr.  Adams  must  confine  hini- 
self  to  stating  the  contents  of  the  petition. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  am  doing  so,  sir. 

The  Speaker. — Not  in  the  opinion  of 
the  chair. 

Mr.  Adams. — I  was  at  this  point  of  the 
petition  :  "  Keenly  aggrieved  by  its  exist- 
ence in  a  part  of  our  country  over  which 
congress  possesses  exclusive  jurisdiction 
in  all  cases  whatsoever " 

Loud  cries  of  "  Order,"  "  Order  !  " 

Mr.  Adams. — "  Do  most  earnestly  peti- 
tion your  honorable  body " 

Mr.  Chambers,  of  Kentucky,  rose  to  a 
point  of  order. 

Mr.  Adams. — "  Immediately  to  abolish 
slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia " 

Mr.  Chambers  reiterated  his  call  to 
order,  and  the  Speaker  directed  Mr. 
Adams  to  take  his  seat. 

Mr.  Adams  proceeded,  however,  with 
great  rapidity  of  enunciation,  and  in  a 
very  loud  tone  of  voice — "  And  to  declare 
every  human  being  free  who  sets  foot  upon 
its  soil !  " 

The  confusion  in  the  hall  at  this  time 
was  very  great.  The  speaker  decided  that 
it  was  not  in  order  for  a  member  to  read  a 
petition,  whether  it  was  long  or  short. 

Mr.  Adams  appealed  from  any  decision 
which  went  to  establish  the  principle  that 
a  member  of  the  United  States  house  of 
representatives  should  not  have  the  power 
to  read  what  he  chose.  He  had  never 
before  heard  of  such  a  thing.  If  the  hith- 


STRUGGLE  FOB  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


255 


erto  invariable  practice  was  to  be  reversed, 
let  the  decision  stand  upon  record,  and  let 
it  appear  how  entirely  the  freedom  of 
speech  was  suppressed  in  this  house.  If 
the  reading  of  a  paper  was  to  be  suppressed 
in  his  person,  so  help  him  God,  he  would 
only  consent  to  it  as  a  matter  of  record. 
Saying  this,  he  instantly  resumed  and 
finished  the  reading  of  the  petition,  that 
the  petitioners 

" respectfully  announce  their  inten- 
tion to  present  the  same  petition  yearly 
before  this  honorable  body,  that  it  might 
at  least  be  a  memorial  in  the  holy  cause  of 
human  freedom,  that  they  had  done  what 
they  could." 

These  words  were  read  by  Mr.  Adams, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  amidst  tumultuous 
cries  of  "  order "  from  every  part  of  the 
house.  The  petition  was  finally  received, 
and  laid  upon  the  table. 

One  month  after  this,  namely,  on  the 
seventh  of  February,  after  Mr.  Adams  had 
offered  some  two  hundred  or  more  aboli- 
tion petitions,  he  came  to  a  halt,  and,  with- 
out yielding  the  floor,  employed  himself  in 
packing  up  or  arranging  his  budget  of 
documents.  He  was  about  resuming  his 
seat,  when,  suddenly  glancing  at  a  paper 
on  his  desk,  he  took  it  up,  and  exclaimed, 
in  a  shrill  tone — 

"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  in  my  possession, 
a  petition  of  a  somewhat  extraordinary 
character;  and  I  wish  to  inquire  of  the 
chair  if  it  be  in  order  to  present  it." 

The  Speaker  replied,  that  if  the  gentle- 
man from  Massachusetts  would  state  the 
character  of  the  petit'on,  the  chair  would 
probably  be  able  to  decide  on  the  subject. 

"Sir,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Adams,  "the 
petition  is  signed  by  eleven  slaves  of  the 
town  of  Fredericksburg,  in  the  county  of 
Culpepper,  in  the  state  of  Virginia.  It  is 
one  of  those  petitions  which,  it  has  oc- 
curred to  my  mind,  are  not  what  they 
purport  to  be.  It  is  signed  partly  by  per- 
sons who  cannot  write,  by  making  their 
marks,  and  partly  by  persons  whose  hand- 
writing would  manifest  that  they  have 
received  the  education  of  slaves.  The 
petition  declares  itself  to  be  from  slaves, 


and  I  am  requested  to  present  it.  I  will 
send  it  to  the  chair." 

The  speaker,  Mr.  Polk,  who  habitually 
extended  to  Mr.  Adams  every  courtesy 
and  kindness  imaginable,  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  found  himself  involved  in  a 
dilemma.  Giving  his  chair  one  of  those 
hitches  which  ever  denoted  his  excitement, 
he  said  that  a  petition  from  slaves  was  a 
novelty,  and  involved  a  question  that  he 
did  not  feel  called  on  to  decide.  He 
would  like  to  take  time  to  consider  it ;  and, 
in  the  meantime,  would  refer  it  to  the 
house.  The  house  was  very  thin  at  the 
time,  and  but  little  attention  was  paid  to 
what  was  going  on,  till  the  excitement  of 
the  speaker  attracted  the  attention  of  Mr. 
Dixon  H.  Lewis,  of  Alabama,  who  impa- 
tiently, and  under  great  excitement,  rose 
and  inquired  what  the  petition  was.  The 
speaker  furnished  the  required  informa- 
tion ;  whereupon  Mr.  Lewis,  forgetting  all 
discretion,  whilst  he  frothed  at  the  mouth, 
turned  towards  Mr.  Adams,  and  exclaimed, 
in  thunder-tones — 

"  By ,  sir,  this  is  not  to  be  endured 

any  longer  I" 

"Treason !  treason  !  Expel  the  old  scoun- 
drel ;  put  him  out;  do  not  let  him  disgrace 
the  house  any  longer,"  screamed  a  half 
dozen  other  members. 

"  Get  up  a  resolution  to  meet  the  case," 
exclaimed  a  member  from  North  Carolina. 
Mr.  George  C.  Dromgoole,  who  had  ac- 
quired quite  a  reputation  as  a  parliamen- 
tarian, was  selected  as  the  very  man  who, 
of  all  others,  was  most  capable  of  drawing 
up  a  resolution  that  would  meet  and  cover 
the  emergency.  He  produced  a  resolution 
and  preamble,  in  which  it  was  stated,  sub- 
stantially, that,  whereas  the  Hon.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  a  representative  from  Mas- 
sachusetts, had  presented  to  the  house  a 
petition  signed  by  negro  slaves,  thus 
"  giving  color  to  an  idea  "  that  bondmen 
were  capable  of  exercising  the  right  of 
petition,  it  was  "  Resolved,  That  he  be 
taken  to  the  bar  of  the  house,  and  be  cen- 
sured by  the  speaker  thereof." 

A  still  more  stringent  resolution  was 
introduced  by  Hon.  Waddy  Thompson, 


256 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


namely,  that  Mr.  Adams,  "having  been 
guilty  of  gross  disrespect  to  the  house,  be 
instantly  brought  to  the  bar,  to  receive 
the  severe  censure  of  the  speaker."  Sev- 
eral other  resolutions  and  propositions, 
irom  members  of  slave-holding  states,  were 
submitted,  but  none  proved  satisfactory 
even  to  themselves.  The  idea  of  bringing 
the  venerable  ex-president  to  the  bar,  like 
a  culprit,  to  receive  a  reprimand  from  a 
comparatively  youthful  speaker,  was  equal- 
ly disgraceful  and  absurd.  Mr.  Adams, 
however,  entirely  unmoved  by  the  tempest 
which  raged  around  him,  defended  him- 
self, and  the  integrity  of  his  purpose,  with 
his  accustomed  ability  and  eloquence. 

"In  regard  to  the  resolutions  now 
before  the  house,"  said  he,  "as  they  all 
concur  in  naming  me,  and  in  charging  me 
with  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors,  and 
in  calling  me  to  the  bar  of  the  house  to 
answer  for  my  crimes,  I  have  thought  it 
was  my  duty  to  remain  silent,  until  it 
should  be  the  pleasure  of  the  house  to  act 
either  on  one  or  the  other  of  these  resolu- 
tions. I  suppose  that  if  I  shall  be  brought 
to  the  bar  of  the  house,  I  shall  not  be 
struck  mute  by  the  previous  question, 
before  I  hare  an  opportunity  to  say  a  word 
or  two  in  my  own  defense." 

"Now,  as  to  the  fact  what  the  petition 
was  for,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  in  another  por- 
tion of  his  speech,  "  I  simply  state  to  the 
gentleman  from  Alabama,  who  has  sent  to 
the  table  a  resolution  assuming  that  this 
petition  was  for  the  abolition  of  slavery — 
I  state  to  him  that  he  is  mistaken.  He 
must  amend  his  resolution;  for  if  the 
house  should  choose  to  read  this  petition, 
I  can  state  to  them  they  would  find  it 
something  very  much  the  reverse  of  that 
which  the  resolution  states  it  to  be.  And 
if  the  gentleman  from  Alabama  still 
chooses  to  bring  me  to  the  bar  of  the 
house,  he  must  amend  his  resolution  in  a 
very  important  particular;  for  he  may 
probably  have  to  put  into  it,  that  my  crime 
has  been  for  attempting  to  introduce  the 
petition  of  slaves  that  slavery  should  not 
be  abolished." 

.Reiterating  the  principle,  that  the  right 


of  petition  belongs  to  all,  Mr.  Adams  said 
that  he  felt  it  a  sacred  duty  to  present  any 
petition,  couched  in  respectful  language, 
from  any  citizen  of  the  United  States,  be 
its  object  what  it  might, — be  the  prayer  of 
it  that  in  which  he  could  concur,  or  that  to 
which  he  was  utterly  opposed;  no  law 
could  be  found,  even  in  the  most  abject 
despotism,  which  deprives  even  the  mean- 
est or  most  degraded,  of  the  right  to  sup- 
plicate for  a  boon,  or  to  pray  for  mercy ; 
there  is  no  absolute  monarch  on  earth,  who 
is  not  compelled  to  receive  the  petitions  of 
his  people,  whosoever  they  may  be, — not 
even  the  sultan  of  Turkey  can  walk  the 
streets  and  refuse  to  receive  petitions  from 
the  lowest  and  vilest  of  the  land. 

Whsn  southern  members  saw  that,  in 
their  haste,  they  had  not  tarried  to  ascer- 
tain the  nature  of  the  petition,  and  that  it 
prayed  for  the  perpetuation,  instead  of  the 
abolition  of  slavery,  their  position  became 
so  ludicrous,  that  their  exasperation  was 
greatly  increased.  At  the  time  the 
petition  was  announced  by  Mr.  Adams, 
the  house  was  very  thin;  but  the  excite- 
ment that  was  produced  soon  filled  it; 
and,  besides,  the  sergeant-at-arms  had  been 
instructed  to  arrest  and  bring  in  all  absen- 
tees. The  excitement  commenced  at  about 
one  o'clock,  and  continued  until  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  house 
adjourned.  Mr.  Adams  stood  at  his  desk, 
resolutely  refusing  to  be  seated  till  the 
matter  was  disposed  of,  alleging  that  if 
he  were  guilty,  he  was  not  entitled  to  a 
seat  among  high  and  honorable  men. 
When  Mr.  Dromgoole's  resolution  was 
read  to  the  house,  for  its  consideration, 
Mr.  Adams  yielded  to  it  one  of  those  sar- 
castic sneers  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
giving,  when  provoked  to  satire ;  and  said 
— "Mr.  Speaker,  if  I  understand  the  reso- 
lution of  the  honorable  gentleman  from 
Virginia,  it  charges  me  with  being  guilty 
of  '  giving  color  to  an  idea  ! ' "  The  whole 
house  broke  forth  in  one  common,  irrepres- 
sible peal  of  laughter,  at  this  capital  double 
entendre;  and  the  Dromgoole  resolution 
was  actually  laughed  out  of  existence. 
The  house  now  found  that  it  had  got  itself 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


257 


in  a  dilemma — that  Mr.  Adams  was  too 
much  for  it;  and,  at  last,  adjourned,  leav- 
ing the  affair  in  the  position  in  which 
they  found  it. 

For  several  days  this  subject  continued 
to  agitate  the  house — and  the  nation.  Mr. 
Adams  not  only  warded  off  the  virulent 
attacks  made  upon  him,  but  carried  the 
war  so  effectually  into  the  camp  of  his  ene- 
mies, that,  becoming  heartily  tired  of  the 
contest,  they  repeatedly  endeavored  to  get 
rid  of  the  whole  subject  by  laying  it  on 
the  table.  To  this  Mr.  Adams  objected. 
He  insisted  that  it  should  be  thoroughly 
canvassed.  Immense  excitement  contin- 
ued, and  call  after  call  of  the  house  was 
made.  At  length,  the  subject  was  brought 
to  a  termination  by  the  passage  of  a  pre- 
amble and  resolution  —  much  softened 
down,  in  comparison  with  what  was  at  first 
proposed — declaring  that  the  paper  cannot 
be  received,  and  that  slaves  have  no  right 
to  petition. 

The  slave  petition  in  question  is  believed 
to  have  been  a  counterfeit,  manufactured 
by  certain  members  of  congress  from 
slave-holding  states,  and  was  sent  to  Mr. 
Adams  by  way  of  experiment — with  the 
double  design  of  ascertaining  if  he  could 
be  imposed  upon ;  and,  if  the  deception 
succeeded,  those  who  got  it  up  were  curi- 
ous to  know  if  the  venerable  statesman 
would  redeem  his  pledge,  and  present  a 
petition,  no  matter  who  it  came  from.  He 
was  too  wily  not  to  detect  the  plot  at  the 
outset ;  he  knew  that  all  was  a  hoax ;  but 
he  resolved  to  present  the  paper,  and  then 
turn  the  tables  upon  its  authors. 

His  success  in  thus  defeating  his  oppo- 
nents on  their  mad  intention  of  censure, 
was  one  of  the  most  signal  instances  of 
personal  and  parliamentary  triumph.  In 
vain  did  they  threaten  assassination, 
indictment  before  the  grand  jury,  and 
other  proceedings,  to  seal  his  lips  in 
silence.  In  vain,  too,  did  they  declare 
that  he  should  "be  made  amenable  to 
another  tribunal  (mob  law),  and,  as  an 
incendiary,  be  brought  to  condign  puni?h- 
ment."  "  My  life  on  it,"  said  a  southern 
member,  "  if  he  presents  that  petition  from 


slaves,  we  shall  yet  see  him  within  the 
walls  of  the  penitentiary."  Firm  stood 
the  white-haired  sage  of  more  than  seventy 
winters,  and  with  withering  rebukes 
repelled  his  hot-blooded  assailants.  His 
clarion  voice  rang  defiantly  through  the 
hall,  as  he  said — 

"Do  the  gentlemen  from  the  south 
think  they  can  frighten  me  by  their 
threats  ?  If  that  be  their  object,  let  me 
tell  them,  sir,  they  have  precisely  mistaken 
their  man.  I  am  not  to  be  frightened 
from  the  discharge  of  a  sacred  duty,  by 
their  indignation,  by  their  violence,  nor, 
sir,  by  all  the  grand  juries  in  the  universe. 
I  have  do::e  only  my  duty ;  and  I  shall  do 
it  again,  under  the  same  circumstances, 
even  though  they  recur  to-morrow." 

On  the  twenty-fourth  of  January,  1842, 
Mr.  Adams  presented  the  petition  of  forty- 
five  citizens  of  Haverhill,  Massachusetts, 
praying  that  congress  would  immediately 
take  measures  peaceably  to  dissolve  the 
Union  of  the  States :  First,  because  no 
union  can  be  agreeable  which  does  not 
present  prospects  of  reciprocal  benefits ; 
second,  because  a  vast  proportion  of  the 
resources  of  one  section  of  the  Union  is 
annually  drained  to  sustain  the  views  and 
course  of  another  section,  without  any 
adequate  return;  third,  because,  judging 
from  the  history  of  past  nations,  such  a 
union,  if  persisted  in,  in  the  present  course 
of  things,  would  certainly  overwhelm  the 
whole  nation  in  utter  destruction. 

Mr.  Adams  moved  that  the  petition  be 
referred  to  a  select  committee,  with  in- 
structions to  report  an  answer  showing  the 
reasons  why  the  prayer  of  it  ought  not  to 
be  granted. 

Immediate  and  wild  excitement  fol- 
lowed the  presentation  of  this  petition. 
Mr.  Hopkins,  of  Virginia,  moved  to  burn 
it  in  presence  of  the  house.  Mr.  Wise,  of 
the  same  state,  asked  the  speaker  if  it  was 
in  order  to  move  to  censure  an}'  member 
for  presenting  such  a  petition.  Mr. 
Gilmer,  also  of  Virginia,  moved  a  resolu- 
tion, that  Mr.  Adams,  for  presenting  such 
a  petition,  had  justly  incurred  the  censure 
of  the  house.  Mr.  Adams  said  he  hoped 


258 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


JOHN  QUINCY  ADAMS  DEFENDING  THE  BIGHT  OF  PETITION  IN  CONOKESS. 


that  the  resolution  would  be  received  and 
discussed.  Angry  debate  continued,  until 
the  house  adjourned. 

The  next  day,  the  whole  body  of  south- 
ern members  came  into  the  house,  appar- 
ently resolved  to  crush  Mr.  Adams  and  his 
cause  —  the  right  of  petition — forever. 
They  gathered  in  groups,  conversed  in 
whispers,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  their 
conduct  at  twelve  o'clock  indicated  the 
approach  of  some  high-handed  proceeding. 
Thomas  F.  Marshall,  of  Kentucky,  who 
had  been  selected  as  spokesman  for  the 
occasion,  rose,  and,  having  asked  and 
received  of  Mr.  Gilmer  leave  to  offer  a 
substitute  for  his  resolution  of  censure 
which  was  pending  at  the  adjournment, 
presented  three  resolutions,  which  had 
been  prepared  at  a  caucus,  the  night 
before,  and  which  declared  that  the  peti- 
tion in  question  involved  a  proposition  to 
the  house  to  commit  perjury  and  high 
treason,  and  that  Mr.  Adams,  for  offering 
it,  receive  the  severest  censure  of  that 
body. 

Assuming  a  manner  and  tone  as  if  he 


felt  the  historical  importance  of  his  posi- 
tion, he  spoke  with  great  coolness  and 
solemnity, —  a  style  wholly  unusual  with 
him ;  exhibited,  too,  a  magisterial  air,  and 
judicial  consequence,  as  if  he  thought  that 
he  was  about  to  pour  down  the  thunder  of 
condemnation  on  the  venerable  object  of 
his  attack,  as  a  judge  pronouncing  sentence 
on  a  convicted  culprit,  in  the  sight  of 
approving  men  and  angels.  The  vast 
audience  before  whom  he  spoke  were  not 
to  be  left  in  any  doubt  of  his  eminent 
capacity  to  act  the  part  he  had  assumed, 
of  prosecutor,  judge,  and  executioner. 

When  Mr.  Marshall  concluded,  the 
chair  announced  to  Mr.  Adams  that  his 
position  entitled  him  to  the  floor ;  bringing 
up  to  the  imagination  a  parallel  scene — 
•'  Then  Agrippa  said  unto  Paul,  Thou  art 
permitted  to  speak  for  thyself.' 

Up  rose,  then,  that  bald,  gray  old  man, 
his  hands  trembling  with  constitutional 
infirmity  and  age,  upon  whose  consecrated 
head  the  vials  of  partisan  wrath  had  been 
outpoured.  Among  the  crowd  of  slave- 
holders who  filled  the  galleries  he  could 


STRUGGLE  FOE  THE  EIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


259 


seek  no  friends,  and  but  a  few  among  those 
immediately  around  him.  Unexcited,  he 
raised  his  voice,  high-keyed,  as  was  usual 
with  him,  but  clear,  untremulous,  and 
firm.  In  a  moment  his  infirmities  disap- 
peared, although  his  shaking  hand  could 
not  but  be  noticed ;  trembling  not  with 
fear,  but  with  age.  At  first  there  was 
nothing  of  indignation  in  his  tone,  manner, 
or  words.  Surprise  and  cold  contempt 
were  all.  The  thread  of  his  great  discourse 
was  mainly  his  present  and  past  relations 
to  Virginia  and  Virginians.  After  grate- 
fully acknowledging  his  infinite  obligations 
to  the  great  Virginians  of  the  first  age  of 
the  federal  republic,  he  modestly  and 
unpretendingly  recounted  the  unsought, 
exalted  honors,  heaped  upon  him  by  Wash- 
ington, Madison,  and  Monroe,  and  detailed 
with  touching  simplicity  and  force  some  of 
his  leading  actions  in  the  discharge  of 
these  weighty  trusts.  In  pursuing  his 
remarks,  he  chanced  to  fix  his  eye  upon 
Marshall,  who  was  moving  down  one  of 
the  side-aisles.  Instantly,  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  the  moment,  he  burst  forth  in  a 
touching  appeal  to  the  hallowed  memory 
of  Marshall,  the  venerated  and  immaculate 
Virginian,  through  a  long  career  of  judi- 
cial honor  and  usefulness.  With  a  flash 
of  withering  scorn,  Mr.  Adams  struck  at 
the  unhappy  Marshall  of  another  day.  A 
single  breath  blew  all  his  mock-judicial 
array  into  air  and  smoke.  In  a  tone  of 
insulted  majesty  and  reinvigorated  spirit, 
Mr.  Adams  then  said,  in  reply  to  the  auda- 
cious charge  of  high  treason, 

"  I  call  for  the  reading  of  the  first  para- 
graph of  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
Bead  it !  read  it !  and  see  what  that  says 
of  the  right  of  a  people  to  reform,  to 
change,  to  dissolve  their  government." 

The  look,  the  tone,  the  gesture,  of  the 
insulted  patriot,  at  that  instant,  were  most 
imposing.  He  seemed  to  have  renewed  his 
youth  like  the  eagles,  and  his  voice  was 
that  of  sovereign  command.  The  burthen 
of  seventy-five  winters  rolled  off,  and  he 
rose  above  the  puny  things  around  him. 
When  the  passage  of  the  Declaration  was 
read  which  solemnly  proclaims  the  right 


of  reform,  revolution,  and  resistance  to 
oppression,  the  grand  old  man  thundered 
out — 

"  Read  that  again  !  " 

Looking  proudly  around  on  the  listen- 
ing audience,  he  heard  his  triumphant 
vindication  sounded  forth  in  the  glorious 
sentences  of  the  nation's  Magna  Charta, 
written  by  Mr.  Jefferson,  a  Virginian. 
The  sympathetic  revulsion  of  feeling  was 
intense,  though  voiceless ;  every  drop  of 
free,  honest  blood  in  that  vast  assemblage 
bounded  with  high  impulse,  every  fiber 
thrilled  with  excitement.  The  members 
of  the  house  were  all  gathered  around  him, 
even  his  persecutors  paying  involuntary 
tribute  to  the  'old  man  eloquent.'  Lord 
Morpeth  was  an  attentive  spectator  and 
auditor ;  and  so  were  governors,  senators, 
judgos,  and  other  high  officials,  innumera- 
ble. A  strong  exhibition  of  the  facts  in 
the  case,  mostly  in  cold,  calm,  logical, 
measured  sentences,  concluded  Mr.  Adams's 
effort,  and  he  sat  down,  vindicated,  victo- 
rious. 

Intemperate  debates,  with  violence  undi- 
minished,  succeeded,  in  which  all  the 
topics  of  party  censure,  from  the  adoption 
of  the  constitution,  were  collected  and 
heaped  upon  Mr.  Adams,  by  Marshall, 
Wise,  Gilmer,  and  others.  No  description 
can  do  justice  to  the  effective  eloquence  of 
Mr.  Adams  in  reply, — including  amusing 
particulars  of  missives  he  had  received 
from  the  south  threatening  him  with 
assassination ;  among  other  kindly  hints, 
of  this  sort,  sent  through  the  post-office, 
being  a  colored  lithograph  portrait  of  him- 
self, with  the  picturesque  annotation  of  a 
rifle-ball  on  the  forehead,  and  a  promise 
that  such  a  remedy  would  "stop  his 
music." 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  this  debate,  Mr. 
Adams,  in  opening  his  defense,  stated  it 
as  his  intention  to  go  over  the  whole  affair, 
and  that  he  should  require  a  great  deal 
more  time,  in  addition  to  what  had  already 
been  consumed;  but  he  was  willing  to 
forego  it  all,  provided  it  could  be  done 
without  sacrificing  his  rights,  the  rights 
of  his  constituents,  and  those  of  the  peti- 


260 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


tioners.  He  then  stated,  that  if  any 
gentleman  would  make  a  motion  to  lay  the 
whole  subject  —  that  of  which  Marshall 
had  been  made  the  champion  —  on  the 
table,  he  would  forbear  to  proceed  with 
his  defense.  This  motion  was  at  once 
made  by  Mr.  Botts,  of  Virginia,  and  car- 
ried by  a  vote  of  one  hundred  and  six  to 
ninety-three.  The  petition  from  Haverhill 
was  then  refused  to  be  received,  three- 
fourths  of  the  house  voting  against  it. 

It  would  appear  well-nigh  incredible, 
that  a  venerable  man  like  Mr.  Adams 
should  be  able  to  carry  on,  for  eleven 
days,  almost  single-handed,  so  great  a  con- 
test. That  this  was  due,  in  no  small 
degree,  to  his  consummate  skill  as  a  par- 
liamentarian, cannot  be  questioned.  The 
following  memorable  instance  of  his  power 
in  this  respect,  will  form  a  fitting  close  to 
this  chapter. 

At  the  opening  of  the  twenty-sixth  con- 
gress, the  clerk  began  to  cail  the  roll  of 
the  members,  according  to  custom.  Whon 
he  came  to  New  Jersey,  he  stated  that 
five  seats  of  the  members  from  that  state 
were  contested,  and  that,  not  feeling  him- 
self authorized  to  decide  the  question,  he 
should  pass  over  those  names,  and  proceed 
with  the  call.  This  gave  rise  to  a  general 
and  violent  debate  on  the  steps  to  be  pur- 
sued under  such  circumstances.  Innumer- 
able questions  were  raised,  and  proposi- 
tions made,  but  the  house  could  not  agree 
upon  the  mode  of  proceeding,  and,  from 
the  second  to  the  fifth  day,  the  house 
remained  in  a  perfectly  disorganized  state, 
and  in  inextricable  confusion,  the  clerk 
acting  as  the  tool  of  his  party.  But  the 
hour  of  disenthrallment  was  at  hand ;  a 
scene  was  to  be  presented  which  would 
send  the  mind  back  to  those  days  when 
Cromwell  exclaimed,  "  Sir  Harry  Vane  ! 
wo  unto  you,  Sir  Harry  Vane  ! " — and  in 
an  instant  dispersed  the  famous  rump  par- 
liament. 

Mr.  Adams,  from  the  opening  of  this 
scene  of  confusion  and  anarch}',  had  main- 
tained a  profound  silence.  He  appeared 
to  be  engaged  most  of  the  time  in  writing. 
To  a  common  observer  lie  seemed  to  be 


reckless  of  everything  around  him.  But 
nothing,  not  the  slightest  incident,  escaped 
him. 

The  fourth  day  of  the  struggle  had 
now  commenced.  Mr.  Hugh  A.  Garland, 
the  clerk,  was  directed  to  call  the  roll 
again.  He  commenced  with  Maine,  as 
usual  in  those  days,  and  was  proceeding 
towards  Massachusetts.  Mr.  Adams  was 
now  observed  to  be  holding  himself  in 
readiness  to  get  the  floor  at  the  earliest 
moment  possible.  His  eye  was  riveted 
on  the  clerk,  his  hands  clasped  the  front 
adge  of  his  desk,  where  he  always  placed 
them  to  assist  him  in  rising.  He  looked, 
in  the  language  of  Otway,  like  a  'fowler 
eager  for  his  prey.' 

"  New  Jersey  !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Hugh 
Garland,  "and  the  clerk  has  to  repeat 
that " 

Mr.  Adams  sprang  to  the  floor ! 

"  I  rise  to  interrupt  the  clerk,"  was  his 
first  ejaculation. 

"  Silence,  silence ! "  resounded  through 
the  hall.  "  Hear  him,  hear  him  !  Hear 
what  he  has  to  say !  Hear  John  Quincy 
Adams ! "  was  vociferated  on  all  sides. 

In  an  instant,  such  profound  silence 
reigned  throughout  the  vast  chamber,  that 
the  fall  of  a  leaf  of  paper  might  have  been 
heard  in  any  part  of  it;  and  every  eye  was 
riveted  on  the  venerable  Nestor  of  Massa- 
chusetts,— one  of  the  purest  of  statesmen 
and  noblest  of  men !  He  paused  for  a 
moment,  and,  having  given  Mr.  Garland 
a  withering  look,  he  proceeded  to  address 
the  dense  throng. 

"It  was  not  my  intention,"  said  he,  "to 
take  an}'  part  in  these  extraordinary  pro- 
ceedings. I  had  hoped  that  this  house 
would  succeed  in  organizing  itself;  that  a 
speaker  and  clerk  would  be  elected,  and 
that  the  ordinary  business  of  legislation 
would  have  been  progressed  in.  This  is 
not  the  time,  or  place,  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  the  conflicting  claimants  for 
seats  from  New  Jersey;  that  subject 
belongs  to  the  house  of  representatives, 
which,  by  the  constitution,  is  made  the 
ultimate  arbiter  of  the  qualifications  of  its 
members.  But  what  a  spectacle  we  here 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


261 


present !  We  degrade  and  disgrace  our- 
selves ;  we  degrade  and  disgrace  our  con- 
stituents and  our  countrj-.  We  do  not, 
and  cannot  organize  ;  and  why  ?  Because 
the  clerk  of  this  house,  the  mere  clerk, 
whom  we  create,  whom  we  employ,  and 
whose  existence  depends  upon  our  will, 
usurps  the  throne,  and  sets  us,  the  repre- 
sentatives, the  vicegerents  of  the  whole 
American  people,  at  defiance,  and  holds  us 
in  contempt !  And  what  is  this  clerk  of 
yours  ?  Is  he  to  control  the  destinies  of 
sixteen  millions  of  freemen  ?  Is  he  to 
suspend,  by  his  mere  negative,  thf  func- 
tions oi  government,  and  put  an  end  to 
this  congress  ?  He  refuses  to  call  the 
roll  !  It  is  in  your  power  to  compel  him 
to  call  it,  if  he  will  not  do  it  voluntarily." 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  member, 
who  said  that  he  was  authorized  to  say 
that  compulsion  could  not  reach  the  clerk, 
who  had  avowed  that  he  would  resign, 
rather  than  call  the  state  of  New  Jersey. 

"  Well,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Adams, 
"then  let  him  resign,  and  we  may  possibly 
discover  some  way.  by  which  we  can  get 
along,  without  the  aid  of  his  all-powerful 
talent,  learning,  and  genius.  If  we  cannot 
organize  in  any  other  way — if  this  clerk 
of  yours  will  not  consent  to  our  discharg- 
ing the  trusts  confided  to  us  by  our  con- 
stituents, then  let  us  imitate  the  example 
of  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  which, 
when  the  colonial  governor,  Dinwiddie, 
ordered  it  to  disperse,  refused  to  obey  the 
imperious  and  insulting  mandate,  and,  like 
men " 

The  multitude  could  not  contain  or 
repress  their  enthusiasm  any  longer,  but 
saluted  the  eloquent  and  indignant  speaker, 
and  intercepted  him  with  loud  and  deaf- 
ening cheers,  which  seemed  to  shake  the 
capital  to  its  center.  The  very  Genii  of 
applause  and  enthusiasm  seemed  to  float 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  hall,  and  every 
heart  expanded  with  indescribable  pride 
and  exultation.  The  turmoil,  the  dark- 
ness, the  very  chaos  of  anarchy,  which  had 
for  successive  days,  pervaded  the  American 
congress,  was  dispelled  by  the  magic,  the 
talismanic  eloquence  of  a  single  man  ;  and, 


once  more,  the  wheels  of  government  and 
of  legislation  were  put  in  motion. 

Having,  by  this  powerful  appeal,  brought 
the  yet  unorganized  assembly  to  a  percep- 
tion of  its  real  position,  he  submitted  a 
motion  requiring  the  acting  clerk  to  pro- 
ceed in  calling  the  roll.  This  and  similar 
motions  had  already  been  made  by  other 
members.  The  difficulty,  indeed,  was  just 
this,  that  the  clerk  declined  to  entertain 
them.  Accordingly,  Mr.  Adams  was 
immediately  interrupted  by  a  burst  of 
voices  demanding,  "  How  shall  the  ques- 
tion be  put  ?  "  "  Who  will  put  the  ques- 
tion ? "  The  voice  of  Mr.  Adams  was 
heard  above  all  the  tumult,  "  /  intend  to 
put  the  question  myself!"  That  word 
brought  order  out  of  chaos.  There  was 
the  master  mind. 

As  soon  as  the  multitude  had  recovered 
itself,  and  the  excitement  of  long  and  loud 
resounding  plaudits  had  abated,  Mr. 
Richard  Barnwell  Rhett,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, leaped  upon  one  of  the  desks,  waved 
his  hand,  and  exclaimed : 

"I  move  that  the  Honorable  John 
Quincy  Adams  take  the  chair  of  the 
speaker  of  this  house,  and  officiate  as  pre- 
siding officer,  till  the  house  be  organized 
by  the  election  of  its  constitutional  officers ! 
As  many  as  are  agreed  to  this  will  say  ay ; 
those " 

He  had  not  an  opportunity  to  complete 
the  sentence,  "  those  who  are  not  agreed 
will  say  no" — for  one  universal,  deafen- 
ing, tremendous  ay,  responded  to  the 
nomination. 

Hereupon,  it  was  moved  and  ordered 
that  Hons.  Lewis  Williams,  of  North 
Carolina,  and  Richard  Barnwell  Rhett, 
conduct  John  Quincy  Adams  to  the  chair. 
And  well  did  Mr.  Wise,  of  Virginia,  say 
to  him : 

"  Sir,  I  regard  it  as  the  proudest  hour 
of  your  life ;  and  if,  when  you  shall  be 
gathered  to  your  fathers,  I  were  asked  to 
select  the  words  which,  in  my  judgment, 
are  best  calculated  to  give  at  once  the 
character  of  the  man,  I  would  inscribe 
upon  your  tomb  this  sentence  :  /  intend 
to  put  the  question  myself.'' 


STRUGGLE  FOR  THE  RIGHT  OF  PETITION. 


The  brave  old  man  lived  not  only  to 
see  the  odious  "  gag  rule"  rescinded,  but  to 
listen  to  that  magnificent  speech  from  one 
of  his  colleagues,  Dr.  Palfrey,  on  the 
"  inalienable  rights  of  man,"  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which,  Mr.  Adams  characteris- 
tically exclaimed,  "God  be  praised;  the 
seals  are  broken  ;  the  door  is  open ! " 

Dying  in  his   country's  capitol,  in  the 
midst  of  his  public  duties,  in   February, ' 
1848,  his  illustrious  career  shone  brightly 
to  the  end.     As  secretary   of  state  under 
Mr.   Monroe,  and  subsequently   as  presi- 


dent, his  cabinet  and  other  political  asso- 
ciates consisted  of  such  eminent  statesmen 
as  Crawford,  Shelby,  Crowninshield, 
Thompson,  Southard,  Meigs,  McLean, 
Rush,  Wirt,  Barbour,  Porter,  Van  Renssel- 
aer ;  nor  was  his  political  ability  hardly  less 
appreciated  by  those  master  leaders  in  the 
ranks  of  his  opponents.  A  whole  nation 
deplored  the  loss  and  united  in  rendering 
homage  to  the  memory  of  the  fearless 
"  champion  of  the  right  of  petition."  His 
successor  in  congress  was  Hon.  Horace 
Mann,  a  kindred  spirit, 


XXXII. 

PASSAGE    OF    BENTON'S    FAMOUS    "EXPUNGING    RESO- 
LUTION," IN  THE  U.  S.  SENATE,  AFTER  A  THREE 
YEARS    PARLIAMENTARY   STRUGGLE.— 1837. 


Vindication  of  President  Jackson  Against  the  Condemnatory  Sentence  Passed  by  that  Body  in  1834, 
for  his  Removal  of  the  Government  Deposites. — Strong  Black  Lines  are  Drawn  Around  Said  Sen- 
tence, by  the  Secretary,  in  the  Presence  of  the  Senate  and  of  a  Vast  and  Tumultuous  Crowd,  at  Mid- 
night.— Opposition  to  the  United  States  Bank. — Jackson's  Message  Against  It. — Public  Opinion 
Divided. — Congress  Grants  a  Charter. — Presidential  Veto  of  this  Bill. — Jackson  Denounces  the 
Bank.— Declares  it  to  be  Corrupt.— Orders  the  United  States  Funds  Removed.— Secretary  Duane 
Declines  to  Act. — Taney  Succeeds  Him  and  Obeys. — Fierce  Conflict  in  Congress. — Weeks  of  Stormy 
Debate. — Proposed  Censure  of  Jackson. — Resolution  to  this  Effect  Passed. — Uenton'g  Motion  to 
Expunge. — He  Follows  it  up  Unceasingly. — His  Consummate  Tact. — Approach  of  the  Decisive 
Hour. — Excited  Crowds  Pour  In.— Triumph  of  the  Master  Spirit. — Execution  of  the  Resolve. — 
Strange  and  Impressive  Scene. 


"  No  power  on  earth— «o  help  me  God  I— shall  control  the  key  to  (he  Nation's  funds,  but  the  United  State«  Gorernment  itoelt"—  FEZ  II- 

DBICT  JJLCE3ON. 


0  remark  concerning  the  celebrated  parlia- 
mentary feat  accomplished  in  the  passage 
of  the  "Expunging  Resolution,"  by  the 
United  States  Senate,  could  more  appro- 
priately describe  the  chief  actor  in  that 
proceeding,  than  the  pregnant  sentence 
written  by  Senator  Benton's  biographer, 
namely,  that  as  an  exhibition  of  many 
especial  traits  of  that  senator's  character — 
persistency,  keen  and  sagacious  insight, 
stubborn  devotion  to  the  fame  of  his  party 
chief,  unquailing  courage,  and  confidence  of 
success  against  any  and  all  odds, — no  act  of  his  life  was  more  striking.  As  is  very 
well  known,  the  mover  in  this  exciting  measure,  Senator  Benton,  naturally  made  him- 
self peculiarly  obnoxious  to  his  political  opponents,  but  he  finally  achieved  success, 
and  gained  a  great  personal  triumph.  The  motion  was,  to  strike  from  the  journals  of 
the  senate  a  resolution  of  censure  passed  upon  General  Jackson,  March  twenty-eighth, 
1834,  during  the  second  term  of  his  presidency,  and  the  passion  of  partisans  clothed 
the  contest  with  a  violence  which  shook  the  whole  country. 

The  history  of  this  remarkable  and  deeply  interesting  affair  runs  as  follows  :     In  hia 
message  to  congress,  President  Jackson  expressed  an  opinion  against  renewing  the 


•ATE  PLACE  FOR  THE  KEY  TO  THE  PUBLIC  FOTDS. 


204        PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION, 


charter  of  the  United  States  bank,  which 
would  expire  in  1836.  The  bank  had  riot 
yet  formally  applied  for  such  renewal,  but, 
being  thus  pressed  upon  the  attention  of 
congress,  it  was  referred  to  the  committee 
on  finance  in  both  houses  for  examina- 
tion ;  and  on  the  thirtieth  of  April,  1830, 
Mr.  McDuffie,  of  the  house,  made  a  report 
on  the  subject,  taking  ground  directly  at 
variance  with  the  views  of  the  president, 
arguing  that  Washington  sanctioned  and 
signed  its  original  charter,  that  it  had 
fulfilled  the  ends  for  which  it  was  estab- 
lished, and  that  expediency  and  a  regard 
for  the  public  interest  would  dictate  its 
continuance.  The  report  in  the  senate 
concurred  with  these  sentiments.  Such 
was  the  effect  produced  by  these  reports, 
that  the  shares  of  the  bank,  which,  under 
the  effect  of  the  message,  had  greatly 
fallen  in  value,  soon  reached  the  very 
highest  figure. 

As  early  as  1832,  a  memorial  was  pre- 
sented to  congress  by  the  president  and 
directors  of  the  bank  for  a  renewal  of  its 
charter.  Soon  after,  a  committee  was  ap- 
pointed to  investigate  the  proceedings  of 
the  bank.  A  majority  of  this  committee 
reported  against  the  bank,  principally 
on  the  ground  of  a  violation  of  its  char- 
ter by  illegal  transactions ;  a  minority 
report,  however,  declared  that  the  affairs 
of  the  bank  had  been  administered  by  Mr. 
Biddle  and  the  directors,  with  very  great 
ability,  and  with  perfect  fidelity  to  every 
obligation  ;  and  that,  being  an  institution 
indispensable  to  the  preservation  of  a 
sound  currency,  and  to  the  financial  opera- 
tions of  the  government,  its  downfall 
would  be  a  great  national  calamity. 

On  the  tenth  of  June,  the  senate  passed 
a  bill,  by  eight  majority,  favoring  the 
bank,  and,  shortly  after,  the  house  con- 
curred by  a  majority  of  twenty-two.  This 
bill  was  vetoed  by  the  president,  who  de- 
clared it  unauthorized  by  the  constitution, 
subversive  of  the  rights  of  the  states,  and 
dangerous  to  the  liberties  of  the  people. 
This  veto,  though  not  unexpected  to  the 
country,  was  bitterly  denounced  from  one 
end  of  the  Union  to  the  othjer,  as  an  act 


pregnant  with  fearful  and  appalling  woes. 
Such,  too,  was  the  political  complexion  of 
congress,  at  this  period,  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  obtain  anything  like  the  two-thirds 
vote  requisite  to  pass  a  bill  over  the  presi- 
dential veto. 

The  conflict  of  opinion  in  regard  to  the 
bank, — an  institution  whose  existence  and 
operations  naturally  affected,  for  good  or 
'ill,  every  branch  of  industry,  commerce, 
agriculture,  and  manufactures,  throughout 
the  country, — continued,  and  with  in- 
creased intensity.  All  kinds  of  business 
had,  by  means  of  the  vast  loans  so  freely 
obtained  from  the  bank,  in  larger  or 
smaller  sums,  by  speculators,  become 
greatly  inflated,  and  especially  was  this 
the  case  with  stocks.  Jackson,  viewing 
the  bank  as,  in  this  respect,  an  unhealthy 
corporation,  and  capable,  in  its  dispensa- 
tion of  favors,  of  being  a  dangerous  polit- 
ical engine,  determined  to  cripple  and 
crush  it,  and,  as  an  effectual  measure  to 
this  end,  he  planned  the  withdrawal  from 
the  bank,  of  those  funds  belonging  to  the 
government,  of  which  the  bank,  according 
to  its  charter,  was  the  legal  depository. 
During  the  recess  of  congress,  namely,  on 
the  eighteenth  of  September,  1833,  the 
president  read  to  the  cabinet  a  document 
advocating  and  advising  a  speedy  removal 
of  the  public  treasure  deposited  with  the 
United  States  bank, — this  treasure  consti- 
tuting, as  was  well  understood,  the  basis 
of  the  bank's  credit  and  operations. 

In  the  document  read  by  the  president, 
on  this  occasion,  he  begged  the  cabinet 
to  consider  the  measure  as  his  own,  and 
in  support  of  which  he  should  require  no 
one  of  them  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  opinion 
or  principle.  Its  responsibility,  he  assured 
them,  had  been  assumed  by  him,  after  the 
most  mature  deliberation  and  reflection,  as 
necessary  to  preserve  the  morals  of  the 
people,  the  freedom  of  the  press,  and  the 
purity  of  the  elective  franchise.  Mr. 
Duane,  at  this  .time  secretary  of  the 
treasury,  disapproved  of  the  proposed  re- 
moval of  the  deposites,  whereupon  he  was 
dismissed  from  that  position,  and  his  place 
supplied  by  Itoger  U.  Taney,  who  at  once 


PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION.         2tJ5 


executed  the  presidential  order.  The 
president  emphatically  declared:  "No 
power  on  earth — so  help  me  God! — shall 
control  the  key  to  the  nation's  funds, 
but  the  United  States  government  itself  !  " 

Mr.  Clay's  indignant,  burning  eloquence, 
denunciatory  of  the  acts  of  the  executive, 
knew  no  bounds,  and  he  concluded  by 
offering  resolutions  of  censure  against  the 
president,  which,  after  a  most  stormy  de-' 
bate,passed  the  senate,  in  a  slightly  altered 
form,  on  the  twenty-eighth  of  March,  1834, 
namely :  "  That  the  president,  in  the  late 
executive  proceedings  in  relation  to  the 
revenue,  has  assumed  upon  himself  au- 
thority and  power  not  conferred  by  the 
constitution  and  laws,  but  in  derogation  of 
both  "  Against  this  resolution,  President 
Jackson  sent  in  a  long  and  severe  protest. 
To  this  the  senate  responded,  by  resolu- 
tions declaring  that  the  protest  was  a 
breach  of  the  privileges  of  the  senate,  and 
that  it  should  not  be  entered  upon  the 
journal.  The  house  of  representatives, 
however,  sustained  the  president,  in  his 
opposition  to  the  bank,  and  the  removal 
of  the  deposites.  Memorials  and  peti- 
tions, for  or  against  the  measures  of  the 
president,  flowed  in  from  all  quarters.  It 
was  considered  as  momentous  an  issue  as 
had  ever  agitated  the  land. 

The  president's  wrath  was  unmeasured, 
that  the  resolutions  of  censure,  in  sub- 
stance declaring  him  guilty  of  an  impeach- 
able  offense,  should  thus  be  spread  upon 
the  legislative  journal.  Mr.  Benton,  the 
most  powerful  friend  of  the  president, 
lost  no  time  in  giving  notice  of  his  inten- 
tion to  move  a  strong  measure  in  behalf 
of  the  president,  namely,  an  Expunging 
Resolution  against  the  sentence  of  cen- 
sure passed  and  recorded  by  the  senate, 
committing  himself  irrevocably  to  the 
prosecution  of  the  resolution,  until  he 
should  succeed  in  the  effort,  or  terminate 
his  political  life. 

In  support  of  the  president's  course,  and 
of  Mr.  Benton's  proposed  method  of  vin- 
dication, various  public  proceedings  were 
had  in  different  sections  of  the  country, 
and  some  of  the  state  legislatures  not 


only  voted  in  favor  of  the  removal  of  the 
record  of  censure,  but  instructed  their  con- 
gressional delegations  to  use  their  influence 
and  votes  in  a  similar  direction. 

Mr.  Benton's  resolutions  rehearsed  the 
principal  points  involved  in  the  past  his- 
tory and  present  aspects  of  the  contro- 
versy, quite  at  length,  the  closing  resolu- 
tion being  as  follows  :  "  That  the  said 
resolve  be  expunged  from  the  journal; 
and,  for  that  purpose,  that  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  at  such  time  as  the  senate 
may  appoint,  shall  bring  the  manuscript 
journal  of  the  session  1833-34  into  the 
senate,  and,  in  the  presence  of  the  senate, 
draw  black  lines  round  the  said  resolve, 
and  write  across  the  face  thereof,  in  strong 
letters,  the  following  words  :  '  Expunged 


day  of 


by  order  of   the  senate,  this  • 

,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord .' " 

For  three  years,  successively,  did  Mr. 
Benton  bring  forward,  on  different  oc- 
casions, his  celebrated  motion,  and  again 
and  again  he  suffered  defeat,  after  the 
most  violent  and  scathing  debates  that 
ever  took  place  in  any  parliamentary  body, 
the  senate  at  this  time  containing  an 
unusual  amount  of  oratorical  talent  and 
forensic  power. 

But  the  last  scene — and  with  it  victory 
to  the  great  Missourian  and  his  presiden- 
tial master, — was  now  near  at  hand ;  and 


266         PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXP17NG1NG  RESOLUTION. 


this  scene,  as  described,  mainly,  by  Mr. 
Bentort  himself,  was  as  follows  :  Saturday, 
the  fourteenth  of  January,  the  democratic 
senators  agreed  to  have  a  meeting,  and  to 
take  their  final  measures  for  passing  the 
expunging  resolution.  They  knew  they 
had  the  numbers ;  but  they  also  knew 
they  had  adversaries  to  grapple  with  to 
whom  might  be  applied  the  proud  motto 
of  Louis  the  Fourteenth :  "  Not  an  un- 
equal match  for  numbers."  They  also 
knew  that  members  of  the  party  were  in 
the  process  of  separating  from  it,  and 
•would  require  conciliating.  They  met  in 
the  night  at  the  then  famous  restaurant  of 
Boulauger,  giving  to  the  assemblage  the 
air  of  a  convivial  entertainment.  It  con- 
tinued till  midnight,  and  required  all  the 
moderation,  tact  and  skill  of  the  prime 
movers  to  obtain  and  maintain  the  union  • 
upon  details,  on  the  success  of  which  the 
fate  of  the  measure  depended.  The  men 
of  conciliation  were  to  be  the  efficient  men 
of  that  night ;  and  all  the  winning  re- 
sources of  Wright,  Allen  of  Ohio,  and 
Linn  of  Missouri,  were  put  into  requisi- 
tion. There  were  serious  differences  upon 
the  mode  of  expurgation,  while  agreed 
upon  the  thing;  and  finally  obliteration, 
the  favorite  of  the  mover,  was  given  up, 
and  the  mode  of  expurgation  adopted 
which  had  been  proposed  in  the  resolu- 
tions of  the  general  assembly  of  Virginia, 
namely,  to  inclose  the  obnoxious  sentence 
in  a  square  of  black  lines — an  oblong 
square  :  a  compromise  of  opinions  to  which 
the  mover  agreed  upon  condition  of  being 
allowed  to  compose  the  epitaph — "  Ex- 
punged by  the  order  of  the  Senate."  The 
agreement  which  was  to  lead  to  victory 
was  then  adopted,  each  one  severally 
pledging  himself  to  it,  that  there  should 
should  be  no  adjournment  of  the  senate 
after  the  resolution  was  called  until  it 
was  passed ;  and  that  it  should  be  called 
immediately  after  the  morning  business 
on  the  Monday  ensuing.  Expecting  a 
protracted  session,  extending  through  the 
day  and  night,  and  knowing  the  difficulty 
of  keeping  men  steady  to  their  work  and 
in  good  humor,  when  tired  and  hungry, 


the  mover  of  the  proceeding  took  care  to 
provide,  as  far  as  possible,  against  such  a 
state  of  things ;  and  gave  orders  that 
night  to  have  an  ample  supply  of  cold 
hams,  turkeys,  rounds  of  beef,  pickles, 
wines,  and  cups  of  hot  coffee,  ready  in  a 
certain  committee  room  near  the  senate 
chamber  by  four  o'clock  on  the  afternoon 
of  Monday. 

The  motion  to  take  up  the  subject  was 
made  at  the  appointed  time,  and  imme- 
diately a  debate  of  long  speeches,  chiefly 
on  the  other  side,  opened  itself  upon  the 
question. 

As  the  darkness  of  approaching  night 
came  on,  and  the  great  chandelier  was  lit 
up,  splendidly  illuminating  the  chamber, 
then  crowded  with  the  members  of  the 
house,  and  the  lobbies  and  galleries  filled 
to  their  utmost  capacity  with  visitors  and 
spectators,  the  scene  became  grand  and 
impressive.  A  few  spoke  on  the  side  of 
the  resolution — chiefly  Rives,  Buchanan, 
N iles — and,  with  an  air  of  ease  and  satisfac- 
tion that  bespoke  a  quiet  determination, 
and  a  consciousness  of  victory.  The  com- 
mittee room  was  resorted  to  in  parties  of 
four  and  six  at  a  time,  always  leaving 
enough  on  watch ;  and  not  resorted  to  by 
one  side  alone.  The  opposition  were  in- 
vited to  a  full  participation — an  invitation 
of  which  those  who  were  able  to  maintain 
their  good  temper  readily  availed  them- 
selves ;  but  the  greater  part  were  not  in  a 
humor  to  eat  anything — especially  at  such 
a  feast. 

The  night  was  wearing  away ;  the  ex- 
pungers  were  in  full  force — masters  of  the 
chamber — happy — and  visibly  determined 
to  remain.  It  became  evident  to  the 
great  opposition  leaders,  that  the  inevit- 
able hour  had  come  ;  that  the  '  damnable 
deed '  was  to  be  done  that  night ;  and  that 
the  dignity  of  silence  was  no  longer  to 
them  a  tenable  position.  The  battle  was 
going  against  them,  and  they  must  go  into 
it,  without  being  able  to  re-establish  it. 
In  the  beginning,  they  had  not  considered 
the  expunging  movement  a  serious  pro- 
ceeding; as  it  advanced,  they  still  ex- 
pected it  to  miscarry  on  some  point ;  now, 


PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXPUNGING  KESOLUTION.        267 


the  reality  of  the  thing  stood  before  them, 
confronting  their  presence,  and  refusing 
to  "  down  "  at  any  command. 

Mr.  Calhoun  opposed  the  measure,  in  a 
speech  of  great  severity.  The  day  (said 
he)  is  gone  ;  night  approaches,  and  night 
is  suitable  to  the  dark  deed  we  meditate  ; 
there  is  a  sort  of  destiny  in  this  thing ; 
the  act  must  be  performed,  and  it  is  an 
act  which  will  tell  upon  the  political  his- 
tory of  this  country  forever. 

Mr.  Clay  indulged  in  unmeasured  de- 
nunciation of  the  whole  thing. 

The  last  speech  in  opposition  to  the 
measure  was  made  by  Mr.  Webster,  who 
employed  the  strongest  language  he  could 


was  there.  Expectation,  and  determina- 
tion to  see  the  conclusion,  were  depicted 
upon  every  countenance.  It  was  evident 
there  was  to  be  no  adjournment  until  the 
vote  should  be  taken — until  the  deed  was 
done  ;  and  this  aspect  of  invincible  deter- 
mination had  its  effect  upon  the  ranks  of 
the  opposition.  They  began  to  falter 
under  a  useless  persistence,  for  they  alone 
now  did  the  speaking;  and  while  Mr. 
Webster  was  yet  reciting  his  protest,  two 
senators  from  the  opposition  side,  who  had 
been  best  able  to  maintain  their  equanim- 
ity, came  round  to  the  mover  of  the 
resolution,  and  said  :  '  This  question  has 
degenerated  into  a  trial  of  nerves  and 


-7&t     -W&C-    -X«*-^Ttf£. 


FAOSIMILE   COPY   OF  THE  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION. 


command,  condemnatory  of  an  act,  which, 
he  declared,  was  so  unconstitutional,  so 
derogatory  to  the  character  of  the  senate, 
and  marked  with  so  broad  an  impression  of 
compliance  with  power. 

But,  though  tints  pronounced  an  irregu- 
lar and  unconstitutional  proceeding,  by 
Mr.  Webster  and  the  other  senators  with 
•whom  he  sided  and  voted,  Mr.  John 
Quincy  Adams,  who  was  at  the  time  a 
member  of  the  house,  and  in  direct  antag- 
onism, politically,  to  Mr.  Benton  and  to  the 
Jackson  administration,  held  a  different 
opinion. 

Midnight  (says  Mr.  Benton,  in  con- 
tinuing his  account,)  was  now  approach- 
ing. The  dense  masses  which  filled  every 
inch  of  room  in  the  lobbies  and  the  gal- 
leries, remained  immovable.  No  one 
went  out ;  no  one  could  get  in.  The  floor 
of  the  senate  was  crammed  with  privileged 
persons,  and  it  seemed  that  all  congress 


muscles.  It  has  become  a  question  of 
physical  endurance  ;  and  we  see  no  use  in 
wearing  ourselves  out  to  keep  off  for  a  few 
hours  longer  what  has  to  come  before  we 
separate.  We  see  that  you  are  able  and 
determined  to  carry  your  measure — so, 
call  the  vote  as  soon  as  you  please.  We 
shall  say  no  more.  Mr.  Webster  con- 
cluded. No  one  rose.  There  was  a  pause, 
a  dead  silence,  and  an  intense  feeling. 
Presently  the  silence  was  invaded  by  the 
single  word,  "  question  " — the  parliament- 
ary call  for  a  vote — rising  from  the  seats 
of  different  senators.  One  blank  in  the  re- 
solve remained  to  be  filled — the  date  of  its 
adoption.  It  was  done.  The  acting  presi- 
dent of  the  senate,  Mr.  King,  of  Alabama, 
then  directed  the  roll  to  be  called.  The 
yeas  and  nays  had  been  previously  ordered, 
and  proceeded  to  be  called  by  the  secretary 
of  the  senate,  the  result  showing  a  majority 
of  five  on  the  side  of  the  expungers. 


268        PASSAGE  OF  THE  FAMOUS  EXPUNGING  RESOLUTION. 


The  passage  of  the  resolution  was  an- 
nounced from  the  chair.  Mr.  Benton  rose, 
and  said  that  nothing  now  remained  but 
to  execute  the  order  of  the  senate,  which  he 
moved  be  done  forthwith.  It  was  ordered 
accordingly.  The  secretary  thereupon  pro- 
duced the  original  manuscript  journal  of 
the  senate,  and  opening  at  the  page  which 
contained  the  condemnatory  sentence  of 
March  twenty-eighth,  1834,  proceeded  in 
open  senate  to  draw  a  square  of  broad 
black  lines  around  the  sentence,  and  to 
write  across  its  face  in  strong  letters 
these  words : 

"EXPUNGED  BY  ORDEK  OF  THE  SEN- 
ATE, THIS  16TH  DAY  OF  MARCH,  1837." 

Up  to  this  moment,  the  crowd  in  the 
great  circular  gallery,  looking  down  upon 
the  senate,  though  sullen  and  menacing  in 
their  looks,  had  made  no  manifestation  of 
feeling:.  Things  were  in  this  state  when 
tlie  secrettuj  oi  the  senate  began  to  per- 


form the  expunging   process.      Instantly 
a  storm  of  hisses,  groans,  and  vociferations 
arose  from  the  left  wing  of  the  gallery, 
over  the  head  of  Mr.  Benton.     Anticipat- 
ing the  possibility  of  violence,  some  of  the 
senator's  friends  had  gone  out  and  brought 
arms  into  the  hall.     No  use,  however,  was 
made  of  them,  the  mob  being  intimidated 
by  one  of  the  ringleaders  being  seized  by 
the   sergeant-at-arms  and  brought  to  the 
bar   of   the    senate ;    and  the   expunging 
process   was    performed    in   quiet.      The 
gratification  of  General  Jackson  was  ex- 
treme.    He  gave  a  grand  dinner   to  the 
expungers   and  their  wives;  being,  how- 
ever, too  weak  to  sit  at  the  table,  he  only 
met  the  company,  placed    the   'head  ex- 
punger '  in  the  chair,  and  withdrew  to  his 
sick     chamber.      That    expurgation    (re- 
marks   Mr.    Benton,)  was   the    crowning 
glory  of  Jackson's  civil,  as  New  Orleans 
had  been  of  his  military,  life. 


XXXIII. 

MAGNIFICENT    AURORA    BOREALIS    ENCOMPASSING 

THE    WHOLE    FIRMAMENT    TO    ITS    FARTHEST 

BOUNDS.— 1837. 


A  Vast  Canopy  of  Gorgeous  Crimson  Flames  Encircles  the  Earth.— Arches  of  Resplendent  Auroral 
Glories  Span  the  Hemisphere — Innumerable  Scarlet  Columns  of  Dazzling  Beauty  Rise  from  the 
Horizon  to  the  Zenith.— The  Face  of  Nature  Everywhere  Appears,  to  an  Astonished  World,  as  if 
Dyed  in  Blood.— Uncommon  Extent  and  Sublimity. — Remarkable  Duration  and  Aspeote.— Intensely 
Luminous  Character.— Universal  Outburst  of  Luster.— Preceded  by  a  Fall  of  Snow. — First  Signs  of 
the  Phenomenon. — Exquisite  Rosy  Illumination  — The  Snow  Appears  Deep  Red. — A  Fiery  Vermil- 
ion Tinge  to  Nature.— Alarm  Produced  by  the  Scene.— Great  Moving  Pillar  of  Light.— Vivid  Stream- 
ers in  All  Directions.— Pure  White  and  Brilliant  Colors.— Contrast  of  the  Glowing  Tints. — Wide 
Fields  of  Rainbow  Hues. — Radiant  Beauty  Heaven- Wide. — Superlative  Pageant  of  Splendor.— Perfec- 
tion of  the  Stellar  Form. — Millions  of  Wondering  Observers. — Visible  Nearly  the  Whole  Night. 

Account!  from  Different  Points. — Europe's  Share  in  the  Display. 


" Depth,  bright,  breadth. 

Are  MM  in  their  extreme*;  and  where  to  fount 
The  thlck-iown  glories  in  thete  Heidi  of  flr«. 
Perhaps  a  unph'i  computation  fid!i." 


EARS  of  observation,  covering  many  cen- 
turies, and  embracing  all  zones  and  lati- 
tudes, give  no  record  of  any  display  of 
auroral  glories  equal,  in  sublimity,  mag- 
nificence, and  extent,  to  the  aurora  borealis  of 
November  fourteenth,    1837.       Of   the   various 
accounts  of  this  phenomenon,  as  furnished  by 
observers  in  different  parts  of  the  land,  the  fol- 
lowing will  suffice  to  show  its  marvelous  beauty 

SIHOULAR  FOBM  op  AURORAL  ARCH.  and  grandeur, — remarkable  for  its  amplitude,  its 
duration,  its  intense  luminosity,  and  the  brilliancy  of  its  colors.  Scientific  observations 
of  the  phenomenon  were  made  by  Professors  Barnard,  Herrick,  Twining,  Joslin,  Silli- 
man,  Gibbs,  Henry,  Dewey,  Eedfield,  and  others,  and  these  were  republished  in  all 
parts  of  Europe,  attracting  universal  attention. 

The  city  of  New  Haven  had  been  visited,  during  the  day  of  the  fourteenth,  with  a 
moderate  storm  of  snow,  which  began  to  subside  between  the  hours  of  five  and  six  in 
the  evening.  The  heavens  continued,  however,  to  be  more  or  less  obscured  by  clouds 
during  the  entire  evening ;  on  which  account,  the  splendors  of  the  aurora,  as  they  man- 
ifested themselves  to  observers  more  favorably  situated,  were  here  in  a  great  degree 
concealed.  The  veil  of  snow-clouds,  which,  at  sunset,  and  for  some  time  afterward, 
covered  the  sky,  was  nevertheless  exceedingly  thin ;  and  it  was  through  this,  and  evaa 


270 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


through  the  falling  snow  itself,  that  the 
first  visible  indications  of  the  presence  of 
an  aurora  were  discovered.  Though  the 
exact  time  at  which  the  phenomenon  com- 
menced could  not  be  known,  it  had  doubt- 
less been  in  progress  for  a  while,  before  the 
intensity  of  the  light  became  sufficient  to 
penetrate  the  screen.  The  first  evidence 
of  its  existence  consisted  in  a  strong  rosy 
illumination  of  the  entire  arch  of  the 
heavens. 

Of  this  appearance,  Professor  Olmstead, 
then  of  New  Haven,  says :  The  snow, 
which  at  sunset  had  covered  the  earth  and 
all  things  near  it,  with  a  mantle  of  the 
purest  white,  closed,  early  in  the  evening, 
with  a  most  curious  and  beautiful  pageant. 
About  six  o'clock,  while  the  sky  was  yet 
thick  with  falling  snow,  all  things  sud- 
denly appeared  as  if  dyed  in  blood.  The 
entire  atmosphere,  the  surface  of  the  earth, 
the  trees,  the  tops  of  the  houses,  and,  in 
short,  the  whole  face  of  nature,  were 
tinged  with  the  same  scarlet  hue.  The 
alarm  of  fire  was  given,  and  the  vigilant 
firemen  were  seen  parading  the  streets  in 
their  ghostly  uniform,  which,  assuming  the 
general  tint,  seemed  in  singular  keeping 
with  the  phenomenon.  The  light  was 
most  intense  in  the  north-west  and  north- 
east. At  short  intervals  it  alternately 
increased  and  diminished  in  brightness, 
until,  at  half-past  six,  only  a  slight  tinge 
of  red  remained  on  the  sky.  On  account 
of  the  light  being  thus  transmitted  through 
the  snowy  medium  and  a  thin  veil  of  clouds, 
the  aurora  borealis  was  diffused  like  the 
light  of  an  astral  lamp,  covered  with  a 
red  shade  of  ground  glass.  That  the 
stratum  of  clouds  was  very  thin,  was 
inferred  from  the  fact,  that,  before  half- 
past  six,  a  few  stars  were  discernible  as 
when  seen  through  a  fog ;  and  such  was 
the  appearance  of  the  moon,  which  rose 
about  the  same  time.  Within  ten  minutes 
from  the  time  the  heavens  began  to  assume 
their  fiery  appearance,  the  whole  clouded 
hemisphere  shone  with  that  marvelously 
brilliant  light,  which,  reflected  in  rosy 
tints  by  the  snow  on  the  ground,  produced 
a  scene  indescribably  gorgeous.  To  some 


observers,  the  auroral  flush  seemed  to  over- 
spread all  parts  of  the  sky  almost  simul- 
taneously. 

East  of  New  Haven,  the  storm  was  more 
protracted.  At  New  London,  the  snow 
was  falling  copiously,  and  continued  so, 
unabatedly,  during  the  whole  evening. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  storm,  the  heav- 
ens seemed  as  if  they  were  on  fire, — a 
lurid  light  on  all  sides,  from  the  zenith  to 
the  horizon,  casting  a  most  vulcanean  hue 
on  the  fallen  snow.  The  light  seemed  the 
same  in  every  portion  of  the  firmament, 
but  without  any  apparent  cause. 

In  the  city  of  New  York,  the  display, 
as  witnessed  from  an  eminence  which  com- 
manded an  unobstructed  view  of  the  hori- 
zon in  every  direction,  was,  in  the  latter 
part  of  the  evening,  magnificent  beyond 
description.  At  about  a  quarter  before 
six,  the  attention  of  observers  was  at- 
tracted by  a  most  unusual  appearance  of 
the  heavens.  The  sky  was  wholly  over- 
cast, as  in  New  Haven,  at  the  same  hour; 
though  the  cloud  was  not  sufficiently 
dense,  absolutely  to  obscure  all  the  stars, 
of  which  quite  a  number  were  seen  from 
time  to  time,  faintly  glimmering  through. 
At  the  time  of  the  first  observation,  the 
whole  heaven  was  suffused  with  a  lovely 
carnation,  brightest,  apparently,  at  the 
commencement  in  the  zenith,  but  soon 
afterward  rather  toward  the  north-east. 
This  tint,  reflected  on  the  snow,  clothed 
all  nature  with  a  red-tinted  garniture,  of 
supernal  beauty.  It  gradually  faded, 
though  at  the  end  of  an  hour  it  was  still 
slightly  perceptible.  The  sky  then  rap- 
idly cleared,  and  all  traces  of  the  aurora 
passed  away. 

Bu  J,t  about  half-past  seven,  the  north 
and  east  being  still  overcast,  and  some 
stratified  clouds  extending  themselves 
along  the  horizon  around  toward  the  west, 
a  brightness  began  to  appear  in  the  north- 
west, which,  in  a  very  short  time,  extended 
itself  upward  forty-five  degrees,  in  a  col- 
umn of  diffused  light,  quite  broad  at  the 
base,  and  tapering  to  a  point.  This  col- 
umn moved  very  slowly  southward,  and  at 
length  became  divided  into  two  of  similar 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


271 


MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  OF  NOVEMBER  13  AND  14,  1837. 


character.  But  in  the  meantime,  in  all 
the  north,  and  especially  in  the  north-west, 
numerous  streamers  began  to  make  their 
appearance.  They  became  faintly  red  at 
the  height  of  about  thirty  degrees,  and  the 
redness  of  the  whole  blended  itself  into  one 
general  cloud,  while  the  columns  continued 
distinct  and  white  below.  The  changes 
were  rapid,  but  the  red  tint  covered  the 
heavens  nearly  to  the  zenith  for  a  long 
time.  The  moon,  emerging  from  the 
clouds,  a  little  before  eight,  detracted 
from  the  brightness  of  the  display.  The 
whole  subsided,  or  nearly  so,  shortly  after 
eight,  and  observations  were  discontinued. 
A  few  minutes  before  nine,  however, 
the  community  was  summoned  to  witness 
a  new  exhibition  of  auroral  wonders,  the 
lustrous  grandeur  of  which  no  tongue  could 
tell,  nor  pen  portray.  The  heavens  were 
at  this  time  wholly  unclouded,  with  the 
exception  of  a  single  very  small  and  faint 
cirrus  high  in  the  north-west.  Innumer- 
able bright  arches  shot  up  from  the  whole 
rorthern  semi-circle  of  the  horizon,  and 
from  even  farther  south,  all  converging  to 
the  zenith  with  great  rapidity.  Their 
upper  extremities  were  of  the  most  bril- 


liant scarlet,  while  below  they  were  ex- 
ceedingly white.  At  the  formation  of  the 
corona,  the  appearance  of  the  columns 
below,  which  were  very  numerous  and 
bright,  resembled  that  of  bright  cotton  of 
long  fiber,  drawn  out  at  full  length.  The 
intermingled  hues  afforded  each  other  a 
mutual  strong  relief,  and  exhibited  the 
most  dazzling  contrasts  ever  beheld.  The 
stellar  form  was  wonderfully  perfect  and 
regular.  Toward  the  west,  there  was  a 
sector  of  more  than  twenty  degrees  of 
unmingled  scarlet,  superlatively  beautiful. 

The  duration  of  this  display  was  quite 
remarkable.  For  three-quarters  of  an 
hour  after  its  formation,  which  took  place 
about  nine  o'clock,  the  corona  continued, 
with  variable  brightness,  to  maintain  its 
position  a  little  to  the  south  of  the  zenith. 
At  about  half-past  nine,  the  northern  col- 
umns had  become  disconnected  from  it, 
and  had  subsided  very  low,  the  heavens 
being  clear  between.  But  long  before  this, 
and,  indeed,  within  a  few  minutes  after 
nine,  the  south  was  as  completely  filled 
with  corresponding  columns  as  the  north. 

For  a  time,  therefore,  the  earth  was 
completely  overarched  by  a  perfect  canopy 


272 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


of  glory!  The  southern  columns,  which 
seemed  to  proceed  downward  from  the 
corona,  rested  on  an  arch  of  diffused  light, 
extending  in  a  great  circle  from  east  to 
west,  or  nearly  so,  and  being  about  twenty 
degrees,  or  a  little  more,  above  the  hori- 
zon, in  the  center.  All  below  the  arch 
was  of  the  strange  darkness  so  usual  at 
such  times  in  the  north.  The  southern 
columns  were  at  no  time  so  bright  as  the 
northern,  but  they  maintained  their  posi- 
tion, after  these  last  had  retired, — extend- 
ing still  from  the  corona  to  the  arch  which 
formed  their  base.  The  appearance  was 
at  this  time  that  of  an  aurora  australis, 
and  this  continued  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour.  Streamers,  for  a  while,  con- 
tinued to  shoot  up  irregularly  in  the  north, 
but  they  did  not  again  reach  the  zenith. 
By  half-past  ten,  all  evidence  of  the  phe- 
nomenon disappeared  from  the  heavens, 
and  the  hosts  of  charmed  observers  reluc- 
tantly abandoned  their  watch. 

In  the  western  part  of  New  York  state, 
the  exhibition  was  most  superb,  as  seen 
and  described  at  various  points  of  observa- 
tion. In  Buffalo  and  neighborhood,  the 
aurora  was  perceived  at  its  first  approach. 
At  about  quarter-past  five  o'clock,  the 
heavens  being  clear  in  the  north  and  for 
fifty  degrees  both  east  and  west  of  that 
point,  an  unusual  ruddy  appearance  was 
noticed.  This  soon  faded,  leaving  barely 
a  perceptible  tinge ;  and  instantly,  when 
nearly  all  color  had  disappeared  elsewhere, 
a  space  of  some  fifteen  degrees  in  diame- 
ter, immediately  west  of  Cassiopeia  and 
Andromeda,  and  north  of*  Pegasus,  was 
lighted  up  with  red,  of  a  particularly  deep 
hue.  This  was  entirely  disconnected,  on 
every  side,  from  any  auroral  light  or 
appearance  whatever,  and,  from  its  center, 
pencils  of  white  radiated  to  the  periphery 
on  every  side. 

After  this  appearance  had  continued 
some  five  minutes,  the  white  lines  disap- 
peared, and  the  whole  space  in  question 
assumed  a  uniform  red  color,  which  was 
almost  instantly  thereafter  extended,  in 
an  arch  of  the  same  width,  through  the 
zenith,  and  down  to  the  horizon  about 


sixty  degrees  west  of  north.  On  the  east, 
this  light  did  not  extend  itself;  and, 
during  the  whole  time,  the  clear  space 
existing  in  the  north  retained  its  usual 
color  and  appearance.  Deep  red  streams, 
penciled  with  white,  then  began  to  appear 
and  fade  in  the  north,  but  without  the 
tremulous  motion  of  'merry  dancers.' 
Those  in  the  north-east  maintained  their 
.brightness  longest. 

At  about  fifteen  minutes  before  six 
o'clock,  the  clouds  had  become  more  dense 
and  dark,  though  still  in  detached  masses, 
particularly  throughout  that  portion  of  the 
heavens  which  had  been  occupied  by  the 
red  arch  above  mentioned,  and  these 
isolated  clouds  now  assumed  an  appearance 
at  once  novel  and  striking.  Those  west 
of  the  zenith,  and  lying  within  the  track 
of  the  crimson  arch  already  described, 
suddenly  exhibited  the  most  vivid  red 
along  their  entire  southern  borders  ;  while 
the  like  clouds  east  of  the  zenith,  and  fol- 
lowing the  same  track,  and  prolonging  it 
quite  down  to  the  eastern  horizon,  assumed 
the  same  vivid  color  upon  their  northern 
borders ;  no  other  portion,  however,  of 
these  clouds,  exhibited  any  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  auroral  light.  South  of  this 
line,  there  was  at  no  time  any  auroral 
light  whatever;  and  at  the  moment  in 
question,  there  was  very  little  in  any  other 
parts  of  the  heavens,  save  on  the  borders 
of  these  clouds.  At  nine  minutes  before 
six,  the  red  edgings  of  these  clouds  began 
to  fade,  and  immediately  a  wide  space  in 
the  north-east,  that  was  still  free  from 
clouds,  was  most  brilliantly  lighted  up. 
The  color  was  of  the  same  deep  red,  but  it 
did  not  extend  down  to  the  horizon ;  and 
this  had  scarcely  continued  four  minutes, 
when  the  whole  region  north  of  the  zenith, 
to  within  about  eight  degrees  of  the  hori- 
zon, was  again  reddened  and  glowing — 
while,  beyond  these  limits,  either  north  or 
south,  no  vestige  of  the  aurora  was  visible. 
Just  two  minutes  before  six,  the  moon 
appeared  above  the  horizon,  and  as  it  was 
only  two  days  past  the  full,  its  beams  soon 
surpassed  in  brightness  those  of  the 
aurora. 


AURORA  BOREALIS. 


273 


In  Hudson,  Ohio,  at  the  Western 
Reserve  College,  some  of  the  earlier  dis- 
plays of  the  phenomenon  were  noticed  by 
Professor  Loomis.  This  was  some  five 
minutes  after  six,  when  he  observed  that 
a  small  pile  of  light,  of  a  reddish  hue.  lay 
upon  the  horizon,  in  a  direction  a  little 
north  of  north-west,  and  a  similar  pile  in 
the  east  of  north-east.  Between  these 
there  was  a  low  faint  cloud,  bounded  by  a 
somewhat  ill-defined  arch,  rising  in  its 
center  about  ten  degrees  from  the  horizon. 
Above  this  arch,  a  diffused  light  streamed 
upward  toward  the  zenith,  in  one  or  two 
places,  being  somewhat  more  condensed, 
forming  beams.  This  light  increased 
rapidly  in  brightness  ;  it  became  of  a  more 
decided  crimson  color,  extended  up  to  the 
zenith,  and,  at  the  same  time,  light  began 
to  shoot  up  from  several  points  in  the  east, 
and  somewhat  south  of  east.  At  a  quarter- 
past  six,  meantime,  a  pretty  regular  arch 
was  formed,  extending  from  the  above- 
mentioned  pile  of  light  in  the  north-west. 
This  arch  was  rather  irregular  in  its  out- 
line, and  had  a  slightly  crimson  color.  In 
about  five  minutes,  another  arch  of  white 
light  partially  formed  in  the  southern  sky, 
and  had  nearly  the  same  direction  with 
the  preceding ;  but  this  arch  was  never 
complete,  and  soon  vanished  entirely.  The 
great  arch,  however,  before  described, 
brightened  up  again  in  very  nearly  the 
same  position  as  previously.  About  half- 
past  eight,  light  of  a  crimson  color  was 
observed  to  shoot  from  the  eastern  horizon 
toward  and  beyond  the  zenith,  nearly  in 
the  position  of  the  former  arch.  The 
heavens  were  now  nearly  covered  with  thin 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  and  the  contrast  of 
the  ordinary  clouds  with  this  crimson 
auroral  light,  produced  a  very  singular 
effect.  The  sky  remained  cloudy  during 
the  night. 

Strange  though  it  may  appear,  this 
beautiful  and  magnificent  phenomenon 
was  visible  during  nearly  the  whole  night 
in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louis,  Mo., 
and  was  particularly  brilliant  between  the 
hours  of  twelve  and  one,  when  the  moon 

was  near  its  zenith.     Time  in  St.  Louis 
18 


being  rather  more  than  one  hour  earlier 
than  in  New  York,  this  midnight  display 
was  contemporaneous  with  the  latest 
return  of  the  aurora  in  the  longitude  of 
New  York  ;  but  this,  which  was  the  least 
energetic  in  the  latter,  appears  there  to 
have  been  the  most  remarkable. 

The  commencement  of  the  phenomenon 
in  Philadelphia  was  similar  to  that  ob- 
served at  New  York.  At  a  later  period, 
the  lights  were  again  visible,  and,  between 
nine  and  ten  o'clock,  exceeded  in  extent 
and  brilliancy,  anything  of  the  kind  ever 
before  witnessed  in  that  region.  A  broad 
field  of  crimson  flame,  stretching  from 
nearly  a  western  course,  and  reaching  the 
eastern  hemisphere,  encompassed  th: 
heavens  with  a  brilliant  glory,  of  indescrib- 
able beauty  and  magnificence,  hanging, 
as  it  were,  suspended  from  the  blue  rault 
above,  like  an  immense  curtain  over  the 
earth — while,  from  almost  every  point  of 
the  compass,  shot  up  rays  of  rich  and  gor- 
geous light,  spreading  and  intermingling 
with  a  wavy  tremulous  motion,  and  exhib- 
iting every  hue  of  the  clearest  rainbow. 
The  richness,  variety,  and  delicacy  of  the 
colors,  were  surprisingly  beautiful,  as  was 
their  prismatic  brilliancy.  The  sky  itself 
was  remarkably  clear  and  cloudless — and 
through  the  celestial  phenomena,  a  full 
moon  and  innumerable  stars  were,  all  the 
while,  distinctly  visible. 

In  Maryland,  according  to  the  observa- 
tions made  at  Emmettsburg,  the  first  indi- 
cation of  the  aurora's  approach  was  given 
as  soon  as  it  became  dark,  by  the  singular 
redness  of  the  cumulo-stratus  clouds,  now 
entirely  covering  the  sky.  Those  in  the 
north,  south,  east  and  west,  all  partook  of 
the  redness,  the  reflection  from  them  being 
strong  enough  to  give  a  red  tinge  to  the 
snow.  The  heaviest  clouds  retained  their 
dark  color  in  the  center,  but  they  were 
bordered  with  red.  During  the  hour  in 
which  this  state  of  things  existed,  there 
were  no  streamers,  streaks  of  light,  nor 
merry  dancers.  Indeed,  where  the  sky 
could  be  seen  between  the  clouds,  there 
were  no  signs  of  an  aurora,  but  rather  a 
deep  green  sky.  By  seven,  the  moon 


274 


AUKOKA  BOKEALIS. 


VIEW  OF  THE  AURORA  BORE  A  US  IN   ITS  EARLY  STAGES. 


being  risen,  and  the  clouds  having  van- 
ished, nothing  remained  to  show  that  there 
had  been  any  unusual  occurrence.  A  little 
after  nine,  however,  the  sky  being  per- 
fectly clear,  an  aurora  suddenly  sprang  up, 
which,  for  magnificence,  surpassed  any- 
thing of  the  kind  ever  before  witnessed  in 
that  section.  The  streamers  from  the 
east,  west,  and  north,  converged  a  few 
degrees  south  of  the  zenith,  forming  a 
beautiful  auroral  crown,  red  as  scarlet,  but 
intermingled  with  streaks  of  pale  light. 
There  were  no  merry  dancers,  but  all  the 
other  appearances  usually  witnessed  on 
.such  occasions  were  noticed.  In  little 
more  than  half  an  hour,  the  grand  display- 
was  over,  for  the  most  part. 

Observers  at  Annapolis,  Md.,  describe 
the  aurora  there  as  coming  on  in  waves, 
">t  about  a  quarter  before  six,  and  return- 
ing at  seven,  at  eight,  and  at  nine.  The 
first  arch  was  formed  suddenly,  and  became 
vertical  in  a  very  few  minutes,  from  the 
first  appearance  of  the  columns  at  the 
north-west  and  south-east.  It  was  crim- 
son, traversed  by  white  pencils.  The 
color  of  the  light  at  eight  o'clock  was  not 
red,  but  dusky,  and  formed  from  the  north- 


west point  to  the  pole  star,  a  broad  column, 
which  kept  its  position  for  half  an  hour. 
A  succession  of  fire  cirrus  clouds  floated 
off  from  the  lower  parts  of  the  column  to 
the  south.  At  nine  o'clock,  the  recurrence 
of  the  crimson  light  was  more  in  patches, 
and  of  intense  brightness,  accompanied  by 
cirro-cumulus  clouds,  which  were  formed 
suddenly  over  the  whole  sky,  and  were 
borne  swiftly  to  the  east  by  the  wind. 

Near  Alexandria,  Va.,  the  early  dis- 
play, as  seen  from  east  south-east  to 
west  south-west,  exhibited  a  rich  orange 
red  color,  extending  even  to  the  zenith, 
and  covering  all  the  heavens  north  of  these 
points.  The  return  occurred  toward  nine 
o'clock,  in  a  brilliant  and  fiery  form. 

The  appearance  of  the  aurora  in  South 
Carolina  commenced  about  six  o'clock,  in 
the  shape  of  a  bank  o-  store-house  of  auro- 
ral vapor  towards  the  north.  When  first 
observed,  a  space  of  about  fifteen  degrees 
above  the  horizon  was  strongly  marked  by 
a  pale  white  light,  above  which  the  crim- 
son hue  peculiar  to  this  phenomenon  began 
to  be  distinctly  visible.  At  this  time,  the 
greatest  degree  of  brightness  was  to  the 
east  of  north,  assuming  no  very  definite 


ATJROKA  BOEEALIS. 


275 


form,  but  extending  about  eight  or  ten 
degrees  east,  and  reaching  in  height  to  the 
constellation  of  Cassiopeia's  chair,  the 
lower  portion  of  which  was  enveloped  in 
its  reddening  glow.  The  action  then  sub- 
sided ;  but  at  about  eight  o'clock,  another 
bright  crimson  column  ascended  due  north, 
attaining  an  altitude  some  degrees  greater 
than  that  of  the  polar  star,  and  maintaining 
its  place  about  half  an  hour.  After  this 
had  faded  away,  no  return  was  observed 
until  half-past  nine,  when  there  was  per- 
ceived another  broad  arch  of  crimson  light, 
ascending  several  degrees  to  the  west  of 
north. 

In  certain  sections  of  Georgia,  the  phe- 
nomenon commenced  a  little  after  dark. 
The  sky  a  little  to  the  north  of  the  star 
Capella,  began  to  appear  luminous,  and  a 
luminous  arch  was  soon  formed,  of  about 
six  or  eight  degrees  in  breadth,  and 
extending  over  to  the  north-western  hori- 
zon, having  the  pole  star  in  its  highest 
point.  Soon  after  the  arch  was  formed, 
that  part  of  it  in  the  north-east  horizon 
became  much  brighter,  and  somewhat 
broader  than  the  rest ;  and  this  luminous 
portion  gradually  rose,  and  passed  on  in 
the  arch,  its  densest  part  culminating  a 
little  below  the  north  star.  It  continued 
its  motion  to  the  western  horizon. 

An  hour  and  a  half  was  occupied  by  the 
passage  of  the  luminous  part  of  the  arch 
just  described.  It  became  somewhat 
fainter,  after  it  had  passed  the  meridian, 
and  it  gradually  was  lost  to  sight,  begin- 
ning first  to  disappear  in  the  east,  so  that 
not  a  vestige  remained  at  nine  o'clock, 


three  hours  from  its  first  appearance.  The 
color  of  the  arch  was  that  of  light  scarlet, 
the  most  luminous  part  being  a  little 
darker,  and  much  more  intense.  Its  form 
was  that  of  a  semi-circle,  having  for  its 
base  about  sixty  degrees  of  the  horizon. 
It  differed  from  the  aurora  in  its  regular 
outline,  as  well  as  its  regular  motion  from 
east  to  west,  and  was  witnessed  with  admir- 
ation and  astonishment. 

So  extensive  was  this  magnificent  celes- 
tial phenomenon,  that  it  exhibited  its  won- 
derful splendors,  contemporaneously,  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Europe  and  America, 
though  the  presence  of  clouds  greatly 
interfered  with  the  attractiveness  and 
grandeur  of  the  exhibition  in  the  former. 
At  half-past  twelve,  however, — says  one  of 
the  observers  in  England, — a  patch  of  the 
most  intense  blood-red  colors  ever  seen, 
was  visible,  free  from  the  interposition  of 
clouds.  The  whole  of  the  sky  had  an 
awful  appearance ;  for  the  tinge  of  red 
which  pervaded  the  whole  expanse, 
assumed,  in  many  points,  from  the  depth 
of  colors  above,  and  the  density  of  the 
clouds  below,  the  dark  copper  tint,  which 
is  seen  on  the  disk  of  the  moon  during  a 
lunar  eclipse.  It  was  such  a  sight  as  fills 
the  mind  with  wonder  and  awe ;  and,  in 
America  at  least,  was  the  most  marvelous 
of  the  kind  ever  known ;  though  that  of 
August  and  September,  185Q,  proved  but 
little  inferior  in  some  respects.  In  north- 
ern Europe,  this  phenomenon  is  quite 
frequent,  and  Mr.  Bayard  Taylor  describes 
one  of  rare  beauty  which  he  there  wit- 
nessed. 


XXXIV. 


BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMA- 
TION.—1840. 


Origin,  Rapid  Spread,  Influence,  and  Wonderful  History  of  the  Movement — Enthusiasm  Attending  the 
"  Wasliingtonian  "  Era. — Its  Pioneers  Rise  from  the  Gutter  to  the  Rostrum,  and  Sway  Multitudes  by 
their  Eloquence — Father  Mathew's  Visit.— His  600,000  Converts.— Career  of  Hawkins,  Mitchell, 
Gough,  Dow,  and  Others. — First  Temperance  Society  in  the  United  States. — Singular  Terms  of 
Membership. — Social  Customs  in  Former  Times — Unrestrained  Use  of  Spirits. — Growing  Desire  foi 
Reform. — Influential  Men  Enlisted. — Meetings,  Societies,  Agitation. — A  Congressional  Organization. 
— Origin  of  "  Tee-Totalism." — Deacon  Giles's  Distillery. — "  My  Mother's  Gold  Ring  " — Rise  of 
"  Washingtonianism." — Six  Reformed  Drunkards. — Cold  Water  Armies,  Processions,  etc. — Music, 
Banners  and  Badges. — The  Country  All  Ablaze — An  "  Apostle  of  Temperance." — Administering  the 
Pledge. — Conflict  Concerning  Measures. — Anecdotes  of  Washington. — General  Taylor's  Whiskey 
Jug. — Farragut's  Substitute  for  Grog. 


"Iihill  notcloiethU  letter  without  exhorting  you  to  refrain  from  epintuoun  liquorti  they  will  prove  your  ruin  if  you  do  not.    Coniider 
how  little  a  drunken  man  differ*  from  a  beaat;  the  latter  la  not  endowed  with  reason,  the  former  deprive*  himself  of  it"—  GKKEKAL  WAIH- 

UIOT01C. 


^ERHAPS  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  the  precise  date  when 
active  public  efforts  were  initiated  in  the  United  States  to 
check  the  widespread  evil  of  intemperance.  It  is  not  to 
be  doubted,  however,  that  the  writings  of  that  eminent 
man  of  science,  Dr.  Benjamin  Eush,  of  Philadelphia, 
especially  his  "  Inquiry  into  the  Effects  of  Ardent  Spirits 
upon  the  Human  Body  and  Mind,"  issued  as  early  as  1804, 
did  much  to  awaken  an  interest  in  the  subject,  on  the  part 
of  the  community.  But  not  until  1808,  was  there  any 
movement  of  an  associated  character,  for  public  or  indi- 
vidual abandonment  of  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks. 

But  it  sounds  somewhat  strangely,  in  these  later  days  of 
radical  reform,  that  the  initial  movement  referred  to,  and 
which  was  entitled  "  The  Temperate  Society  of  Moreau  and  Northumberland,"  (towns 
in  the  county  of  Saratoga,  N.  Y.)  originated  by  Billy  Clarke,  should  be  based  upon 
regulations  like  the  following  : — 

"  No  member  shall  be  intoxicated,  under  penalty  of  fifty  cents.  No  member  shall 
drink  rum,  gin,  whiskey,  wine,  or  any  distilled  spirits,  or  compositions  of  the  same,  or 
any  of  them,  except  by  the  advice  of  a  physician,  or  in  case  of  actual  disease  (also 
excepting  wine  at  public  dinners),  under  penalty  of  twenty-five  cents ;  provided  that 
this  article  shall  not  infringe  on  any  religious  ordinance.  No  member  shall  offer  any 
of  said  liquors  to  any  other  member,  or  urge  any  other  person  to  drink  thereof, 
under  penalty  of  twenty-five  cents  for  each  offense," 


EFFECT  OF  REFORMATION. 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


277 


But  the  da3r  of  small  beginnings,  in  a 
humane  cause,  is  never  to  be  despised, 
and,  in  a  few  years,  the  reform  had 
enlisted  the  earnest  co-operation  of  law- 
yers, divines,  and  other  eminent  men,  such 
as  Carey,  Palfrey,  Humphrey,  Dexter, 
Marsh,  Edwards,  Beecher,  Porter,  Leavitt, 
Hewit,  Day,  and  Kittredge.  In  1813, 
there  was  formed  the  Massachusetts  Soci- 
ety for  the  Suppression  of  Intemperance  ; 
one  in  Connecticut,  in  1829 ;  and,  in  1826, 
the  American  Temperance  Union.  The 
statistics  of  this  period  present  the  calcu- 
lation, that,  out  of  a  white  population  of 
ten  millions,  between  three  and  four  mil- 
lions were  habitual  spirit-drinkers,  of  whom 
three  hundred  and  seventy-five  thousand 
drank  daily  on  an  average  three  gills  of 
ardent  spirits,  while  an  equal  number  con- 
sumed more  than  twice  that  quantity,  and 
of  course  were  drunkards.  Making  due 
allowance  for  the  imperfectness  of  such 
statistical  data,  it  was  admitted  by  all, 
that  the  intemperate  use  of  spirituous  liq- 
uors, in  every  part  of  the  land,  had  become 
alarmingly  prevalent. 

The  excellent  resume  of  this  movement, 
as  given  by  Dr.  Emerson  Davis,  himself 
ine  of  its  ablest  and  most  efficient  sup- 
porters, states  that  at  this  time  the  reform 
seemed  to  be  simultaneous  through  the 
country.  At  the  beginning  of  1828,  the 
custom,  hitherto  so  general,  of  treating 
visitors  with  wine,  cordials,  and  brandy, 
began  to  disappear.  The  sideboards  of 
the  rich  and  influential,  which  from  time 
immemorial  had  groaned  under  a  load  of 
decanters,  were  relieved  of  their  burdens, 
and  a  very  great  change  in  the  customs  of 
society  began  to  be  apparent.  At  the 
close  of  1828,  the  number  of  temperance 
societies  reported  in  the  temperance  jour- 
nals was  two  hundred  and  twenty-five. 
At  the  close  of  1829,  there  were  more 
than  one  thousand  such  societies,  embrac- 
ing more  than  one  hundred  thousand 
members,  pledged  to  total  abstinence ; 
fifty  distilleries  had  stopped,  four  hun- 
dred merchants  had  abandoned  the  traffic, 
and  twelve  hundred  drunkards  had  been 
reclaimed.  On  the  first  of  May,  1831,  it 


appeared  that  more  than  three  hundred 
thousand  persons  had  signed  the  pledge, 
and  not  less  than  fifty  thousand  were  sup- 
posed to  have  been  saved  from  a  drunkard's 
grave.  Even  at  Washington,  a  congres- 
sional temperance  society  was  organized, 
under  the  auspices  of  such  men  as  Cass, 
Grundy,  Bates,  Wayne,  Post,  Durbin,  and 
others ;  and  some  of  the  most  brilliant 
public  men  signed  the  pledge. 

A  very  common  objection  (adds  Dr 
Davis),  made  by  many  of  the  poor,  was, 
that  they  could  not  afford  to  drink  wine, 
and,  therefore,  that  signing  the  pledge 
operated  unequally ;  it  took  from  them 
the  use  of  all  stimulants  but  cider  and 
beer,  but  it  left  to  the  rich  the  use  of  wine, 
which  was  often  about  as  strong  as  Cognac 
brandy.  In  order  to  obviate  this  objec- 
tion, it  was  found  necessary  to  introduce 
a  new  pledge,  prohibiting  the  use,  not 
only  of  distilled,  but  of  fermented,  liquors. 
The  first  society  that  adopted  this  pledge 
was  the  Eighth  Ward  Branch  of  the  New 
York  City  Temperance  Society.  This 
was  called  the  tee-total  pledge, — a  name 
first  given  to  it  in  England,  and  which 
had  its  origin  in  the  prolonged  and  inco- 
herent stuttering,  by  one  who  was  taking 
the  pledge,  at  the  first  letter  in  the  word 
'total.'  This  tee-total  pledge  was  intro- 
duced into  this  country  in  1834,  and  in 
a  short  time  many  societies  were  formed 
on  that  principle.  Many,  however,  who 
signed  the  old  pledge,  refused  to  sign  the 
new  ;  and  thus  there  was  an  apparent  fall- 
ing off  in  the  number  of  the  members  of 
temperance  organizations.  Some,  too,  who 
had  delivered  public  addresses,  and  stood 
foremost  in  the  ranks  of  reformers,  were 
thrown  into  the  background,  and  became 
silent  spectators  of  passing  events. 

Among  the  prominent  promoters  of  the 
cause,  appear  the  names  of  Delavan,  Nor- 
ton, Keener,  Gerritt  Smith,  Moses  Grant, 
Loyd,  Collins,  Briggs,  Walworth,  Grundy, 
Hunt,  Stewart,  and  Hoar,  as  speakers. 
Mr.  L.  M.  Sargent  contributed  powerfully 
to  the  reform,  by  his  unrivaled  temper- 
ance tales,  including  that  widely  circulated 
and  admired  production,  "My  Mother's 


278 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


Gold  Ring."  Pierpont  inspired  thousands 
by  his  quaint  and  thrilling  poems ;  and 
the  letters,  essays,  and  other  writings,  of 
such  men  as  Woodward,  Warren,  Baird, 
Beman,  Chapin,  Kirk,  Channing,  and 
Barnes,  added  greatly  to  the  impression 
upon  the  public  mind.  Among  the  inci- 
dents of  this  period,  perhaps  none  created 
greater  interest  and  excitement  through- 
out the  whole  land,  than  the  assault,  prose- 
cution, and  imprisonment,  of  Rev.  George 
B.  Cheever,  of  Salem,  Mass.,  subsequently 
of  New  York.  About  the  beginning  of 
1835,  he  published  in  a  Salem  newspaper, 
a  dream,  descriptive  of  "  Deacon  Giles's 
Distillery,"  in  which  the  liquors  were 
graphically  characterized  as  containing 
demons  in  an  inferno.  Deacon  Giles  was 
a  veritable  person,  and  the  publication 
resulted  in  a  violent  assault  upon  Mr. 
Cheever,  one  night,  by  the  foreman  of  the 
distillery,  who  inflicted  upon  the  unarmed 
clergyman  a  number  of  severe  blows  with 
a  raw  hide,  to  which  Mr.  Cheever  made  no 
resistance.  Mr.  Cheever  was  also  prose- 
cuted for  libel,  and  sentenced  to  thirty 
days'  imprisonment.  He  was  regarded  as 
a  martyr  to  the  cause  of  temperance,  and 
his  case  helped  rather  than  checked  the 
progress  of  the  reform.  He  continued  to 
do  valiant  service,  as  before,  with  his  pen 
and  voice,  ranking,  in  this  respect,  with 
such  men  as  Clarke,  Grimke,  Fisk,  Coffin, 
Woods,  Williams,  Merrill,  Sewall,  Pond, 
Thurston,  Reese,  Van  Loon,  Jewett,  Buck- 
ingham. 

But  a  most  stirring  and  enthusiastic 
impetus  was  yet  to  be  given  to  the  temper- 
ance movement,  and  that  through  the 
humblest  personal  instrumentality.  This 
was  the  organization  of  the  Washington 
Temperance  Society,  in  Baltimore,  in  the 
month  of  April,  1840 ;  its  most  remarka- 
ble convert  being  Mr.  John  H.  W.  Haw- 
kins, who  joined  the  society  the  following 
June. 

It  appears  that  six  individuals,  who 
were  in  the  habit  of  associating  together, 
were  seated,  as  usual,  on  Friday  evening, 
April  2,  1840,  in  Chase's  tavern,  in  Lib- 
erty street,  Baltimore,  where  they  were 


accustomed  to  meet  almost  every  evening, 
for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  mutually  all 
the  benefits  and  conveniences  which  that 
establishment  and  each  other's  society 
could  possibly  afford.  These  were  Wil- 
liam K.  Mitchell,  tailor ;  John  F.  Hoss, 
carpenter  ;  David  Anderson,  blacksmith  ; 
George  Steers,  blacksmith  ;  James  McCur- 
ley,  coach-maker ;  and  Archibald  Camp- 
bell, silver-plater.  A  clergyman  who  was 
preaching  in  the  city  at  that  time,  had 
given  public  notice  that  on  that  evening 
he  would  deliver  a  discourse  on  the  sub- 
ject of  temperance.  Upon  this  lecture, 
the  conversation  of  the  six  comrades  pres- 
ently turned ;  whereupon  it  was  agreed 
that  four  of  them  should  go  and  hear  it, 
and  report  accordingly.  So,  after  the  ser- 
mon, they  returned  and  conversed  on  its 
merits  for  some  time ;  when  one  of  the 
company  remarked,  'After  all,  temperance 
is  a  good  thing.'  'Oh,'  said  the  host, 
'  they're  all  a  parcel  of  hypocrites.'  'Oh, 
yes,'  replied  McCurley,  '  I'll  be  bound  for 
you ;  it's  your  interest  to  cry  them  down, 
anyhow.'  '/  tell  you  what,  boys,  let's 
form  a  society,  and  make  Bill  Mitchell 
president.'  'Agreed,'  cried  they.  The 
idea  seemed  to  take  wonderfully,  and  the 
more  they  talked  and  laughed  over  the 
idea,  the  more  were  they  pleased  with  it. 

After  parting  that  night,  they  did  not 
all  meet  again  until  Sunday,  when  they 
took  a  stroll,  and,  between  walking  and 
treating,  they  managed  to  arrange  the 
whole  matter  to  their  entire  satisfaction. 
It  was  agreed  that  one  of  them  should 
draw  up  a  pledge,  and  that  the  whole 
party  should  sign  it  the  next  day.  Accord- 
ingly, on  Monday  morning,  Mitchell  wrote 
the  following  pledge:  'We  whose  names 
are  annexed,  desirous  of  forming  a  society 
for  our  mutual  benefit,  and  to  guard 
against  a  pernicious  practice,  which  is 
injurious  to  our  health,  standing,  and  fam- 
ilies, do  pledge  otfrselves  as  gentlemen, 
that  we  will  not  drink  any  spirituous  or 
malt  liquors,  wine,  or  cider.' 

He  went  with  this,  at  about  nine  o'clock, 
to  Anderson's  house,  and  found  him  still 
in  bed,  sick  from  the  effects  of  his  Sunday 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


279 


adventures.  He  arose,  however,  dressed 
himself,  and,  after  hearing  the  pledge  read, 
went  down  to  his  shop  with  his  friend  for 
pen  and  ink,  and  there  did  himself  the 
honor  of  being  the  first  man  to  sign. 
After  obtaining  the  names  of  the  remain- 
ing four,  the  worthy  president  finished 
this  noble  achievement  by  adding  his  own. 
On  the  evening  of  that  day,  they  met  at 
the  residence  of  one  of  their  number  and 
duly  formed  themselves  into  a  society,  with 
the  usual  officers.  Little  did  these  six 
associates  know  of  the  fame  and  achieve- 
ments they  were  moulding ! 

Having  thus  got  under  way,  they  next 
turned  their  attention  to  obtaining  mem- 
bers and  devising  means  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  their  meetings ;  it  was  there- 
fore agreed  that  each  man  should  bring  a 
man,  and  every  one  should  pay  twenty-five 
cents  upon  becoming  a  member,  and 
twelve  and  a  half  cents,  monthly,  there- 
after. 

The  next  debate  was  as  to  the  name 
they  should  give  to  their  society.  A  num- 
ber were  proposed,  among  them  that  of 
Jefferson ;  when  it  was  finally  agreed  that 
the  president  and  secretary  should  be  a 
committee  to  draft  a  constitution,  and 
select  a  name.  This  they  did,  giving  to 
the  association  the  name  of  the  "  Wash- 
ington Temperance  Society,"  in  honor  $§| 
of  the  Father  of  his  Country,  and  were  f|| 
consequently  known  as  Washintjtonians.  pv 
It  is  a  little  singular,  however,  that  this 
name  should  have  been  chosen,  for, 
though  Washington  was 
one  of  the  brightest 
examples  of  temperate 
eating  and  drinking,  he 
habitually  used  liquor 
or  wine  himself,  and 
provided  it  for  his 
guests  and  laborers. 
The  following  curious 
document  is  in  point : 

"  Articles   of  Agree- 
ment made  this  twelfth 
day     of     April,    Anno 
Domini,   one    thousand  ¥ 
seven    hundred    and 


eighty^seven,  by  and  between  George 
Washington,  Esq.,  of  the  Parish  of  Truro, 
in  the  County  of  Fairfax,  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, on  the  one  part,  and  Philip  Bater, 
Gardener,  on  the  other.  Witness,  that 
the  said  Philip  Bater,  for  and  in 
consideration  of  the  covenants  herein 
hereafter  mentioned,  doth  promise  and 
agree  to  serve  the  said  George  Wash- 
ington for  the  term  of  one  year,  as  a 
Gardener,  and  that  he  will,  during  said 
time,  conduct  himself  soberly,  diligently 
and  honestly — that  he  will  faithfully  ard 
industriously  perform  all  and  every  part  of 
his  duty  as  a  gardener,  to  the  best  of  his 
knowledge  and  abilities,  and  that  he  will 
not,  at  any  time  suffer  himself  to  be  dis- 
guised with  liquor,  except  on  the  times 
hereafter  mentioned.  In  consideration  of 
these  things  being  well  and  truly  per- 
formed on  the  part  of  the  said  Phii> 
Bater,  the  said  George  Washington  doth 
agree  to  allow  him  (the  said  Philip)  the 
same  kind  and  quantity  of  provisions  as  he 
has  heretofore  had ;  and  likewise,  annually, 
a  decent  suit  of  clothes,  befitting  a  man  in 
his  station  ;  to  consist  of  a  coat,  vest  and 
breeches  ; — a  working-jacket,  and  breeches 
of  home-spun  besides;  two  white  shirts; 
three  checked  do ;  two  linnen  pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs, two  pair  linnen  overalls  ; — as 


SIGSISO  THE   PLEDGE. 


J 


280 


THE  TEMPERANCE  BEFORMATION. 


many  pair  of  shoes  as  are  actually  neces- 
sary for  him  ; — -four  dollars  at  Christmas, 
with  which,  he  may  be  drunk  four  days 
and  four  nights  ;  two  dollars  at  Easter  to 
effect  the  same  purpose ;  two  dollars  at 
Whitsuntide,  to  be  drunk  two  days; — a 
dram  in  the  morning  and  a  Drink  of  Grog 
at  Dinner  at  noon." 

The  above  is  signed  by  the  two  con- 
tracting parties,  and  witnessed  by  George 
A.  Washington  and  Tobias  Lear.  In 
another  instance,  Washington's  fine  in- 
stincts and  principles  are  admirably  dis- 
played : 

"I  shall  not  close  this  letter,"  writes 
Washington  to  one  of  his  overseers, 
"  without  exhorting  you  to  refrain  from 
spirituous  liquors;  they  will  prove  your 
ruin  if  you  do  not.  Consider  how  little  a 
dr-inken  man  differs  from  a  beast;  the 
latter  is  not  endowed  with  reason,  the 
former  deprives  himself  of  it ;  and  when 
that  is  the  case,  acts  like  a  brute,  annoy- 
ing and  disturbing  every  one  around  him ; 
nor  is  this  all,  nor,  as  it  respects  himself, 
the  worst  of  it.  By  degrees  it  renders  a 
person  feeble,  and  not  only  unable  to 
serve  others,  but  to  help  himself;  and 
being  an  act  of  his  own,  he  falls  from  a 
state  of  usefulness  into  contempt,  and  at 
length  suffers,  if  not  perishes,  in  penury 
and  want.  Don't  let  this  be  your  case. 
Shew  yourself  more  of  a  man  and  a  Chris- 
ian  than  to  yield  to  so  intolerable  a  vice, 
which  cannot,  I  am  certain,  (to  the  great- 
est lover  of  liquor,)  give  more  pleasure  to 
sip  in  the  poison,  (for  it  is  no  better,)  than 
the  consequence  of  it  in  bad  behavior  at 
the  moment,  and  the  more  serious  evils 
produced  by  it  afterwards  must  give  pain." 

Great  and  wonderful  were  the  results 
destined  to  flow  from  the  '  Washington 
Temperance  Society,'  thus  started  by  those 
six  inebriates  in  the  city  of  Baltimore. 
At  their  second  meeting,  they  had  two 
new  members;  but,  in  a  comparatively 
short  time,  the  society  increased  so  much 
that  it  became  a  question  how  they  could 
employ  their  time  so  as  to  make  their 
meetings  interesting.  The  president  there- 
upon suggested  that  each  member  should 


rise  in  his  place  and  give  his  experience; 
and,  by  way  of  commencement,  he  arose 
and  told  what  he  had  passed  through  in 
the  last  fifteen  years,  and  the  advantages 
he  had  derived  from  signing  the  total- 
abstinence  pledge.  This  was  the  origin  ot 
that  most  popular  and  efficient  method 
which  the  Washington  Society  and  all  its 
auxiliaries  adopted,  for  giving  interest 
and  effect  to  their  gatherings.  Signers 
were  thus  obtained,  and  the  attention  of 
the  public  was  attracted,  so  that  a  class 
was  reached  which  otherwise  might  not 
have  been  affected  by  the  labors  of  those 
other  good  men  who  had  for  so  many 
years  been  engaged  in  promoting  temper- 
ance in  a  different  way. 

By  Christmas,  in  1840,  the  reform  had 
become  so  popular,  that  thousands  had 
flocked  to  its  standard,  and  enrolled  them- 
selves as  the  friends  of  temperance.  The 
wave  had  swept  onward,  and  tidings  of  the 
great  reformation  reached  distant  cities. 
On  invitation  from  New  York,  for  a  dele- 
gation of  five  men  to  hold  experience 
meetings  twice  every  day  for  one  week,  in 
that  city,  Messrs.  Hawkins,  Pollard,  Shaw, 
Casey,  and  Mitchell,  proceeded  to  that 
place,  and  there  held  the  first  Washing- 
tonian  missionary  temperance  meeting 
ever  known  in  the  United  States.  It  was 
a  type  of  that  success  which  was  to 
accompany  this  new  system  in  behalf 
of  temperance,  for,  during  each  of  the 
speeches,  multitudes  came  forward  and 
signed  the  pledge,  and,  taken  altogether, 
such  a  scene  had  never  before  been  wit- 
nessed in  New  York. 

But  the  most  powerful  among  all  the 
advocates  of  Washingtonian  reform  was 
Mr.  Hawkins,  who  rose  from  the  very  gut- 
ter of  drunkenness  to  the  rostrum  of  im- 
passioned eloquence  in  advocacy  of  reform, 
and  with  prodigious  success.  The  pecu- 
liar circumstances  of  his  history  had  an 
almost  overpowering  effect  on  his  own 
feelings,  whenever  he  spoke,  and  his  au- 
diences listened  now  breathlessly,  and 
anon  with  uncontrollable  demonstrations 
of  enthusiasm.  He  was  a  man  of  plain, 
good  common  sense,  with  a  peculiar  sin- 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


281 


centy  about  him,  and  an  easy  way  of 
working  up  his  hearers  to  a  state  of  sym- 
pathy with  him.  He  would  at  one  time 
assume  the  melting  mood,  and  picture  the 
scenes  of  a  drunkard's  home — and  that 
home  his  own — and  the  fountains  of  gen- 
erous feelings,  in  many  hearts,  gushed 
forth  in  tears  ;  and  again,  in  a  moment, 
as  lie  related  some  ludicrous  story,  those 
tearful  eyes  glistened  with  delight,  sighs 
changed  to  hearty  shouts,  and  long  faces 
were  convulsed  with  broad  grins  and 
glorious  smiles.  Drunkards  and  outcasts 
of  the  worst  type,  that  swarm  in  the  fes- 
tering purlieus  and  penetralia  of  New  York, 
were  reclaimed,  and  such  was  the  over- 
whelming power  of  the  movement,  that, 
finally,  immense  meetings  were  held  in  the 
Park.  In  Boston,  too,  the  old  Cradle  of 
Liberty  rocked  with  tumultuous  enthusi- 
asm for  '  independence '  from  the  tyrant  of 
strong  drink.  Festivals,  children's  cold 
water  armies,  processions,  banners,  bands 
of  music,  songs,  etc.,  filled  the  whole  land 
with  the  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of 
soul. 

Statistics  might  be  indefinitely  pre- 
sented, showing  the  vast  results  achieved 
by  this  wonderful  moral  enginery.  Up- 
wards of  twenty-two  thousand  names  were 
obtained  to  the  pledge  by  Messrs.  Pollard 
and  Wright,  in  a  lecturing  tour  made  by 
them  through  Central  New  York,  New 
Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania.  Messrs.  Vicars 
and  Small  and  Smith  revolutionized  Ohio 
and  the  West ;  Hawkins,  Bishop,  John- 
son, Hayes,  and  Haydock,  labored  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other.  Haw- 
kins alone,  in  less  than  twenty  years, 
traveled  more  than  two  hundred  thousand 
miles,  lecturing  between  five  and  six  thou- 
sand times.  Latham,  Madden,  Snow, 
White,  Gary,  Leigh,  Coffin,  Brown,  Riley, 
Bungay,  Copway,  Zug,  Drinkard,  Thomp- 
son, are  names  that  will  ever  be  remem- 
bered, too,  as  powerful  and  successful 
advocates  of  this  reform,  on  the  rostrum  ; 
and  those  of  Pierpont,  Burleigh,  Phillips, 
Tappan,  and  others,  by  their  stirring 
songs  and  poems.  But,  chief  and  most 
powerful  of  the  many  advocates  of  the 


temperance  reformation,  is  John  B.  Gough, 
who  has  proved  himself  in  this  arena,  a 
wonderful  orator.  His  eloquence,  indeed, 
was  of  that  electric  quality  which,  striking 
a  chord  in  every  heart  and  drawing  tears 
from  every  eye,  perfectly  swayed  the  vast 
multitudes  that  hung  upon  his  words 
wherever  he  went.  Every  city,  town,  and 
village,  throughout  the  country,  felt  the 
impress  of  his  wonderful  power  in  this 
great  reformatory  movement.  Like  Haw- 
kins, his  condition  was  humble,  but  from 
this  he  had  descended  to  the  lowest  depths 
of  social  and  personal  degradation  until 
rescued  by  the  interposition  of  a  friendly 
hand.  No  data  can  adequately  describe 
the  extent  and  value  of  his  labors  from 
that  time  forth,  for  a  quarter  of  a  century 
and  more. 

But  a  new  and  most  interesting,  as  well 
as  important  chapter,  in  the  history  of 
temperance,  is  yet  to  be  mentioned,  namely, 
the  visit  of  Father  Mathew,  the  world- 
renowned  'Apostle  of  Temperance'  in 
Ireland,  to  this  country,  in  1849.  For 
ten  years  previously,  he  labored  as  a  tem- 
perance agitator  and  reformer  in  Ireland 
and  England.  In  five  months,  he  obtained 
150,000  converts  in  Cork ;  and  in  Galway, 
he  administered  the  pledge  to  no  less  than 
100,000  in  two  days  !  On  his  landing  at 
New  York  city,  the  civil  authorities  ac- 
corded him  the  honor  of  a  public  recep- 
tion,— certainly  well  deserved,  by  one  .vho 
had  been  the  instrument,  under  divine 
guidance,  of  reclaiming  6,000,000  of  his 
fellow-creatures.  He  visited  the  principal 
cities,  north  and  south,  and  everywhere  a 
hearty  welcome  was  extended  to  him  from 
all  classes.  He  remained  several  days  in 
Washington,  where  he  was  entertained 
at  a  grand  dinner  by  the  president  of  the 
United  States,  and  received  many  dis- 
tinguishing marks  of  esteem  from  gentle- 
men highest  in  the  offices  of  the  govern- 
ment. He  was  honored,  also,  with  a  seat 
on  the  floor  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, and  within  the  bar  of  the  United 
States  senate.  At  Philadelphia,  he  re- 
ceived his  welcome  in  Independence  Hall ; 
and  at  Boston,  the  doors  of  Faneuil  Hall 


282 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


DISTINGUISHED  TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATES. 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


283 


opened  to  him  on  golden  hinges  of  accla- 
mation, and  where  he  administered  the 
pledge  to  upwards  of  four  thousand  per- 
sons the  first  day.  His  method  of  admin- 
istering the  pledge  was  somewhat  novel, 
though  at  the  same  time  quite  affecting. 
The  converts  knelt  in  a  semi-circle  around 
him,  and  repeated  the  following  words  : 

'  I  promise,  with  divine  assistance,  to 
abstain  from  all  intoxicating  liquors,  cor- 
dials, cider  and  fruit  liquors,  and  to  pre- 
vent, as  much  as  possible,  intemperance  in 
others,  by  advice  and  example.' 

To  this,  Father  Mathew's  response  was, 
'  May  God  bless  you,  my  children.  May 
he  give  you  grace  and  strength  to  keep 
the  pledge.'  He  then  went  to  each  indi- 
vidual and  marked  them  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross ;  but  this  latter  ceremony,  and 
the  kneeling,  were  dispensed  with  in  the 
case  of  Protestants.  In  this  way,  the 
venerable  and  devoted  man  traveled  over 
almost  the  entire  country,  zealously  ad- 
vocating his  great  principles,  and  upwards 
of  six  hundred  thousand  persons  enrolled 
themselves  under  his  banner  of  total 
abstinence.  Upon  descending  the  Missis- 
sippi, he  administered  in  one  of  the  towns 
situated  on  its  banks,  the  pledge  to  seven 
hundred  persons.  He  ascended  it,  after 
an  interval  of  some  months,  and  stopping 
at  the  same  town,  he  had  the  gratification 
to  find  that  among  the  converts  there  were 
but  three  instances  of  relapse.  Though 
not  possessed  of  the  oratorical  graces  of 
eloquence,  like  those  of  Gough,  he  knew 
how  to  present  truth  with  such  force  and 
sincerity,  as  to  win  almost  irresistibly 
upon  all  hearers.  The  following  anecdote 
will  illustrate  his  peculiar  forte  : 

'  Did  you  see  Father  Mathew  lately  ? ' 
said  one  friend  to  another,  whom  he  hap- 
pened to  meet.  '  I  did,'  was  the  reply. 
'  And  I'll  engage  he  made  you  take  the 
pledge  ! '  'He  did,  indeed.  But  did  you 
see  him  lately?'  'To  be  sure  I  did.' 
'  And  did  he  make  you  take  it  too  ? ' 
'  That  he  did  ! '  '  There's  no  escaping 
him  ;  but  I  am  not  sorry  for  it.'  '  No,  nor 
I  neither.' 

Personally,  Father  Mathew  was  a  little 


above  the  ordinary  stature,  with  a  full 
and  well-proportioned  figure,  dark  hair, 
soft  blue  eyes,  ruddy  and  healthy  com- 
plexion. 

Though  characterized  by  periods  of 
prosperity  and  declension,  the  temperance 
cause  has  proved  itself  ineradicable,  even 
under  circumstances  seemingly  the  most 
untoward.  Perhaps  the  greatest  struggle 
through  which  it  has  passed,  in  later  years, 
has  been  that  which  involved  the  enact- 
ment of  state  prohibitory  laws,  which 
visited  stringent  penalties  upon  those  who 
sold  spirituous  liquors.  The'name  of  Neal 
Dow,  the  author  and  advocate  of  this  kind 
of  legislation,  the  discussion  attending 
which  has  been  one  of  the  most  important 
and  exciting  during  the  century,  will  for- 
ever be  identified  with  the  history  of  the 
American  temperance  reformation,  as  will 
also  the  names  of  Greeley  and  Miner,  dis- 
tinguished champions  of  the  same  prin- 
ciple. 

It  would  be  an  easy  task  to  fill  a  whole 
volume  with  distinguished  testimonies  to 
the  value  of  temperance.  As  this,  how- 
ever, would  here  be  impossible,  a  few 
pleasant  illustrative  incidents  will  suffice 
the  purpose. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  revolutionary 
war,  an  officer  in  the  American  army  had 
occasion  to  transact  some  business  with 
General  Washington,  and  repaired  to 
Philadelphia  for  that  purpose.  Before 
leaving,  he  received  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  the  general,  which  was  accepted  and, 
upon  entering  the  room  he  found  himself 
in  the  company  of  a  large  number  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen.  As  they  were  mostly 
strangers  to  him,  and  he  was  of  a  naturally 
modest  and  unassuming  disposition,  he 
took  a  seat  near  the  foot  of  the  table,  and 
refrained  from  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  conversation.  Just  before  the  dinner 
was  concluded,  Washington  politely  re- 
quested him,  by  name,  to  drink  a  glass  of 
wine  with  him. 

'You  will  have  the  goodness  to  excuse 
me,  general,'  was  the  reply,  'as  I  have 
made  it  a  rule  not  to  take  wine.' 

All  eyes  were  instantly  turned  upon  the 


284 


THE  TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION. 


young  officer,  and  a  murmur  of  contempt 
and  surprise  ran  around  the  room.  That 
a  person  should  be  so  unsocial,  not  .to  say 
mean,  as  never  to  drink  wine,  was  really 
too  bad ;  but  that  he  should  abstain  from 
it  on  an  occasion  like  that,  and  even  when 
offered  to  him  by  Washington  himself, 
was  really  intolerable  !  Washington  no- 
ticed at  once  the  feelings  of  his  guests, 
and  promptly  addressed  them  in  his  gra- 
cious and  winning  way,  saying: 

'  Gentlemen,  Mr. is  right.  I  do 

not  wish  any  of  my  guests  to  partake 
of  anything  against  their  inclination, 
and  I  certainly  do  not  wish  them  to 
violate  any  established  principle  in  their 

intercourse  with  me.  I  honor  Mr. for 

his  frankness,  for  his  consistency  in  thus 
adhering  to  an  established  rule  which  can 
never  do  him  harm,  and  for  the  adoption 
of  which,  I  have  no  doubt,  he  has  good 
reasons.' 

General  Taylor,  the  hero  of  the  Mexi- 
can war,  always  gave  the  weight  of  his 
example  in  favor  of  temperance.  A  trav- 
eler in  the  west  one  day  encountered  an 
emigrant  journeying  with  his  family  to 
the  fertile  regions  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
all  his  worldly  goods  being  packed  on 
wagons,  and  on  one  load  there  hung  a 
huge  jug  with  the  bottom  broken  out. 
The  emigrant  was  asked  his  reason  for 
carrying  that  with  him.  Why,'  he  said, 


'that  is  my  Taylor  jug.'  And  what  is  a 
Taylor  jug  ? '  inquired  the  friend.  '  Why,' 
said  the  emigrant,  '  I  had  a  son  with  Gen- 
eral Taylor's  army  in  Mexico,  and  the  old 
general  always  told  him  to  carry  his  whis- 
key-jug with  a  hole  in  the  bottom ;  and 
since  that,  I  have  carried  my  jug  as  you 
see  it,  and  I  find  it  is  the  best  invention  I 
ever  met  with.' 

Everybody  admired  Admiral  Farragut's 
heroism  in  clinging  to  the  topmast  to 
direct  a  battle ;  but  there  was  another 
particular  of  that  contest,  illustrating  no 
less  forcibly  his  heroic  character.  '  Ad- 
miral,' said  one  of  his  officers,  the  night 
before  the  battle,  '  won't  you  consent  to 
give  Jack  a  glass  of  grog  in  the  morning, 
not  enough  to  make  him  drunk,  but  enough 
to  make  him  fight  cheerfully  ? '  '  Well,' 
replied  the  admiral,  '  I  have  been  to  sea 
considerably,  and  have  seen  a  battle  or 
two,  but  I  never  found  that  I  wanted  rum 
to  enable  me  to  do  my  duty.  I  will  order 
two  cups  of  coffee  to  each  man,  at  two 
o'clock ;  and,  at  eight  o'clock,  I  will  pipe 
all  hands  to  breakfast,  in  Mobile  bay.' 
And  he  did  give  Jack  the  coffee;  and 
then  he  went  up  to  the  mast-head,  and  the 
result  is  well  known. 

These  illustrations  of  devotedness  to  the 
principle  of  temperance  in  high  places 
might  be  greatly  multiplied.  Their  value 
to  the  cause  ca;*  v-vdly  be  overestimated. 


XXXV. 

FREMONT'S  HEROIC  EXPEDITION  OF  DISCOVERY  TO 

THE  UNTRACKED  REGION  OF  THE  NORTH-WEST, 

OREGON,  CALIFORNIA,  ETC.— 1842. 


Hii  Exploration  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  of  that  Wonderful  Gateway  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  the 
South  Pass. — Plants  the  American  Flag  on  the  Highest  Peak  of  that  Lofty  Range. — He  Enrichei 
Every  Branch  of  Natural  Science,  and  Illustrates  a  Remote  and  Boundless  Country  Before  Entirely 

Unknown. — Fremont,  a  Pioneer  of  Empire. — National  Objectg 
cf  this  Tour  — Enchanting  Record  of  Adventure. — Surveys 
and  Researches. — Humboldt's  Tribute  of  Admiration. — Wild 
Grandeur  of  the  Route. — Scenes  in  this  Vast  Domain. — The 
Rocky  Mountains  :  First  Glimpses. — Formation  of  the  South 
Pass. — "  Kit  Carson,"  the  Intrepid  Guide. — At  the  Topmost 
Peak,  14,000  Feet  — Startling  Boldness  of  the  View. — Over- 
powering Quiet  and  Solitude. — Evidences  of  Awful  Convul- 
sions.— Unfurling  the  Flag  of  the  Union. — Appearance  of 
Great  Salt  Lake. — Eternal  Snows  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. — In 
the  San  Joaquin  Valley. — An  Immense  Circuit  of  Travel  — 
Fremont,  the  Modern  Pathfinder. — Honors  from  His  Country- 
men.— A  King's  Gift  and  Regards. 


*•  Prominently  deferring  of  distinguished  recognition  is  the  aervk 
geographical  Bcience  by  the  American  explorer,  Fremont."  —  Km 
WILLIAM  IV.,  or  PBUSSIA,  TO  BABON  HCMBOLDT. 


rvice  rendered  to 
FBEDKBIC 


VEEY  American  reader  is  enchanted  with  the  narrative  of 
THE  SOUTH-WEST,  those  intrepid  and  heroic  explorations  of  Fremont,  "the 
Pathfinder,"  which,  in  the  language  of  Humboldt,  —  himself  the  greatest  scientific 
explorer  and  geographer  the  world  has  ever  seen, — "  enriched  every  branch  of  natural 
science,  and  illustrated  a  vast  country  before  entirely  unknown,"  and  in  appreciation 
of  which  he  received  from  his  admiring  countrymen  the  highest  tokens  of  honor,  and, 
from  kingly  hands,  acknowledgments  inscribed  on  tablets  of  gold. 

Several  exploring  tours  of  the  western  portion  of  our  continent,  within  the  geograph- 
ical boundaries  of  the  country  subsequently  known  by  the  title  of  Oregon,  took  place 
before  that  which  was  led  by  the  brave  Fremont,  but  none  with  such  rich  and  varied 
results  as  the  latter. 

It  being  desirable  for  our  government  to  become  fully  acquainted  with  the  character 
of  the  vast  territory  between  the  southern  geographical  boundary  of  the  United  States 
and  the  Rocky  Mountains,  around  the  head-waters  of  the  Missouri,  Fremont  was 
appointed  to  superintend  that  exploring  tour,  under  the  direction  of  Colonel  Abert, 
the  chief  of  the  topographical  bureau  at  Washington,  and  by  him  projected  and 


286 


FREMONT'S  EXPEDITION. 


planned,  with  the  approval  of  Secretary 
Poinsett.  The  great  object  of  this  expe- 
dition was  to  examine  and  report  upon  the 
rivers  and  country  between  the  frontiers 
of  Missouri  and  the  base  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  ;  and  especially  to  examine  the 
character,  and  ascertain  the  latitude  and 
longitude  of  that  wonderful  gateway,  the 
South  Pass,  the  great  crossing  place  to 
these  mountains  on  the  way  to  Oregon. 

In  executing  his  official  instructions, 
Fremont  proceeded  up  the  Kansas  river 
far  enough  to  ascertain  its  peculiar  feat- 
ures,  and  then  crossed  over  to  the  Great 
Platte,  and  pursued  that  river  to  its  source 
in  the  mountains,  where  the  Sweet  Water 
—  a  head  branch  of  the  Platte  —  issues 
from  the  neighborhood  of  the  South  Pass. 
He  reached  the  Pass  on  the  eighth  of 
August,  and  found  it  to  be  a  wide  and  low 
depression  of  the  mountains,  of  very  easy 
ascent,  and  where  a  plainly  beaten  wagon 
load  leads  to  the  Oregon  through  the  valley 
of  Lewis's  river,  a  fork  of  the  Columbia. 
He  went  through  the  Pass,  and  saw  the 
head-waters  of  the  Colorado,  of  the  Gulf 
of  California ;  and,  leaving  the  valleys  to 
indulge  a  laudable  curiosity,  and  to  make 
some  useful  observations,  Fremont,  at- 
tended by  four  of  his  men,  climbed  the 
loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
until  then  untrodden  by  any  known  human 
being ;  and,  on  the  fifteenth  of  August, 
looked  down  upon  ice  and  snow  some  thou- 
sand feet  below,  and  traced  in  the  distance 
the  valleys  of  the  rivers  which,  taking 
their  rise  in  the  same  elevated  ridge,  flow 
in  opposite  directions  to  the  Pacific  ocean 
and  to  the  Mississippi.  From  that  ultimate 
Jioint  he  returned  by  the  valley  of  the 
Great  Platte,  following  the  stream  in  its 
whole  course,  and  solving  all  questions  in 
relation  to  its  navigability,  and  the  feat- 
ures of  the  country  through  which  it  flows. 

On  the  prairies  which  border  the  forks 
of  the  river  Platte,  the  travelers  bivou- 
acked in  the  evening,  eating  their  meat 
with  a  good  relish ;  for  they  were  all  in  fine 
health,  and  had  ridden  nearly  all  of  a  long 
summer's  day,  with  a  burning  sun  reflected 
from  the  sands. 


When  about  sixty  miles  distant,  the 
party  caught  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Though  a  tolerably 
bright  day,  there  was  a  slight  mist,  and 
the  snowy  summit  of  '  Long's  Peak,' 
showing  like  a  small  cloud  near  the  hori- 
zon, was  just  barely  discernible.  There 
was,  however,  no  mistake  in  distinguishing 
it,  there  being  a  perceptible  difference 
in  its  appearance  from  the  white  clouds 
that  were  floating  about  the  sky. 

Proceeding  onward  through  hostile 
tribes  of  Indians,  Fremont  reached  the 
first  military  frontier  post — Fort  Laramie; 
departing  thence,  in  a  short  time,  for  the 
bases  of  the  "  great  mountains."  With 
the  change  in  the  geological  formation  on 
leaving  Fort  Laramie,  the  whole  face  of  the 
country  appears  entirely  changed.  East- 
ward of  the  meridian,  the  principal  objects 
which  strike  the  eye  of  the  traveler  are 
the  absence  of  timber,  and  the  immense 
expanse  of  prairie,  covered  with  the  verd- 
ure of  rich  grasses,  and  highly  adapted 
for  pasturage.  Wherever  they  are  not 
disturbed  by  the  vicinity  of  man,  large 
herds  of  buffalo  give  animation  to  this 
country. 

Many  sufferings  were  endured  in  reach- 
ing the  Rocky  Mountains,  but  the  follow- 
ing details  show  that  the  labors  of  the 
party  were  amply  rewarded.  About  six 
miles  from  their  encampment  brought  the 
party  to  the  summit  of  the  South  Pass. 
The  ascent  had  been  so  gradual,  that,  with 
all  the  intimate  knowledge  possessed  by 
Carson,  the  guide,  and  who  had  made  that 
country  his  home  for  seventeen  }'ears,  the 
party  were  obliged  to  watch  very  closely 
to  find  the  place  at  which  they  had  reached 
the  culminating  point.  This  was  between 
two  low  hills',  rising  on  either  hand  fifty 
or  sixty  feet.  From  the  broken  ground 
where  this  pas's  commences,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Wind  River  Chain,  the  view  to  the 
south-east  is  over  a  champaign  country, 
broken,  at  the  distance  of  nineteen  miles, 
by  the  Table  Rock,  which,  with  the  other 
isolated  hills  in  its  vicinity,  seemingly 
stands  on  a  comparative  plain.  The 
'  Pass '  in  no  manner  resembles  the  places 


FREMONT'S  EXPEDITION. 


287 


to  which  that  term  is  commonly  applied — 
nothing  of  the  gorge-like  character  and 
winding  ascents  of  the  Alleghany  passes 
iu  America,  nor  of  the  great  St.  Bernard 
and  Simplon  passes  in  Europe.  Approach- 
ing from  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  a 
sandy  plain,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
long,  conducts,  by  a  gradual  and  regular 
ascent,  to  the  summit,  about  seven  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea;  and  the  traveler, 
without  being  reminded  of  any  change, 
by  toilsome  ascents,  suddenly  finds  him- 
self on  the  waters  which  flow  to  the  Pacific 
ocean.  On  this  short  mountain-chain  are 
the  head-waters  of  four  great  rivers  of  the 
western  continent,  namely,  the  Colorado, 
Columbia,  Missouri,  and  Platte  rivers. 


[  PLASTCfG  AMERICAN  FLAG  ON  THE 
KOCKY  MOUNTAINS,  BY  FREMONT. 

A  scene  of  characteris- 
tic adventure  was  that  of 
reaching  the  summit  of 
these  mountains.  Putting 
hands  and  feet  in  the  crev- 
ices between  the  blocks, 
Fremont  succeeded  in  get- 


ting over  it,  and,  on  attaining  the  top, 
found  his  companions  in  a  small  valley 
below.  Descending  to  them,  they  con- 
tinued climbing,  and  in  a  short  time 
reached  the  crest.  He  sprang  upon  the 
summit,  and  unfurled  the  national  flay  to 
wave  in  the  breeze  where  never  flag  waved 
before. 

During  the  morning's  ascent,  no  sign 
of  animal  life  was  met  with,  except  a  small 
sparrow-like  bird.  A  stillness  the  most 
profound  and  a  solitude  the  most  terrible 
forced  themselves  constantly  on  the  mind 
as  the  great  features  of  the  place.  Here, 
on  the  summit,  where  the  stillness  was  ab- 
solute, unbroken  by  any  sound,  and  the 
solitude  complete,  the  explorers  thought 
themselves  beyond  the  region  of  animated 
life ;  but,  while  they  were  sitting  on  the 
rock,  a  solitary  humble-bee  came  winging 
his  flight  from  the  eastern  valley,  and  lit 
on  the  knee  of  one  of  the  men.  It  was  a 
strange  place,  the  icy  rock  and  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Kocky  Mountains,  for  a  lover 
of  warm  sunshine  and  flowers.  The 
barometer  stood  at  18.293,  the  attached 
thermometer  at  44  degrees;  giving  for 
the  elevation  of  this  summit  13,570  feet 
above  the  sea,  it  may  be  called  the  highest 
known  flight  of  the  bee.  From  this  pre- 
sumed loftiest  peak  of  the  great  mountain 
range, — since  known  as  Fremont's  Peak, — 
could  be  seen  innumerable  lakes  and 
streams,  the  spring  of  the  Colorado  of  the 
Gulf  of  California,  on  the  one  side  ;  on  the 
other,  was  the  Wind  River  valley,  where 
were  the  heads  of  the  Yellow  Stone  branch 
of  the  Missouri ;  far  to  the  north  could  be 
faintly  descried  the  snowy  heads  of  the 
Trois  Tetons,  where  were  the  sources  of 
the  Missouri  and  Columbia  rivers  ;  and  at 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  ridge,  the 
peaks  were  plainly  visible,  among  which 
were  some  of  the  springs  of  the  Nebraska, 
or  Platte  river.  The  whole  scene  around 
had  one  main  striking  feature,  which  was 
that  of  terrible  convulsion.  Parallel  to 
its  length,  the  ridge  was  split  into  chasms 
and  fissures  ;  between  which  rose  the  thin 
lofty  walls,  terminated  with  slender  mina- 
rets and  columns. 


288 


FREMONT'S  EXPEDITION. 


Fremont's  next  tour  was  devoted  to 
Oregon  and  California.  On  arriving  at 
the  Utah  lake,  he  had  completed  an 
immense  circuit  of  twelve  degrees  diame- 


ter north  and  south,  and  ten  degrees  east 
and  west.  They  found  themselves  in 
Ma}-,  1844,  on  the  same  sheet  of  water 
which  they  had  left  in  September,  1843. 
The  Utah  is  the  southern  limb  of  the 
Great  Salt  Lake  ;  and  thus  they  had  seen 
this  remarkable  sheet  of  water  both  at  its 
northern  and  southern  extremity,  and  were 
able  to  fix  its  position  at  these  two  points. 
In  this  eight  months  circuit,  the  explorers 
found  that  the  mountains  on  the  Pacific 
slope  are  higher,  more  numerous,  and  more 
distinctly  defined  in  their  ranges  and 
directions,  than  those  on  the  Atlantic  side ; 
and,  what  is  contrary  to  the  natural  order 
of  such  formations,  one  of  these  ranges, 
which  is  near  the  coast — the  Sierra  Nevada 
and  the  Coast  Range — presents  higher 
elevations  and  peaks  than  any  which  are 
to  be  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  them- 
selves. Dir-ing  all  this  circuit,  the  party 
were  never  out  of  sight  of  snow;  and  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  where  they  crossed  it,  was 
nearly  two  thousand  feet  higher  than  the 
famous  South  Pass.  Peaks  are  constantly 
seen  which  enter  the  region  of  eternal 
snow. 

Differing  so  much   from   the   Atlantic 


side  of  our  continent  in  coast,  mountains, 
and  rivers,  the  Pacific  side  differs  from  it 
in  yet   another   most   rare    and   singular 
feature — that  of  the  Great  Interior  Basin. 
The  structure  of  the  country  would  require 
this  formation  of  interior  lakes,  for  the 
waters  which  would  collect  between  the 
Rockjr  Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
not  being  able  to  cross   this   formidable 
barrier,  nor  to  get  to  the  Columbia  or  the 
Colorado,  must  naturally  collect  into  reser- 
voirs, each  of  which  would  have  its  little 
system  of  streams  and  rivers  to  supply  it. 
The  Great  Salt  Lake  is  a  formation  of  this 
kind,  and  quite  a  large  one,  having  many 
streams,  and  one  considerable  river,  four 
or  five  hundred  miles  long,  falling  into  it. 
Fremont    saw   this   lake   and   river,   and 
examined  them  ;  he  also  saw  the  Wahsatch 
and  Bear  River  mountains  inclosing  the 
waters  of  the  lake  on  the  east,  and  consti- 
tute, in  that  quarter,  the  rim  of  the  Great 
Basin.      Afterwards,    along    the    eastern 
base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  the  party 
traveled  for  forty-two  days,  they  saw  the 
line  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  lie  at  the 
foot  of  that  sierra,  and  which  sierra  is  the 
western  rim  of  the  basin.     In  going  down 
Lewis's  Fork,  and  the  main  Columbia,  they 
crossed   only  inferior  streams  coming  in 
from  the  left;  ancloften  saw  the  mountains 
at  their   heads,  white  with  snow,  which 
divided  the  waters  of  the  desert  from  those 
of  the  Columbia, — the  range  of  mountains 
forming  the  rim  of  the  basin  on  its  north- 
ern side.     In    returning  from    California 
along  the  Spanish  trail,  as  far  as  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork  of  {he  Rio  Virgen, 
the    party    crossed    only    small    streams 
making  their  way  south  to  the  Colorado, 
or  lost  in  sand,  as  the  Mo-hah-ve  ;  while 
to  the  left,  lofty  mountains,  their  summits 
white  with  snow,  were  often  visible — and 
which,    Fremont    concluded,    must    have 
turned  water  to  the  north  as  well  as  to  the 
south,  thus  constituting,  on  this  part,  the 
southern  rim  of  the  basin.     At  the  head 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Fork,  and  in  the  Vegas 
de  Santa  Clara,   they  crossed   the   ridge 
which  parted  the  two  systems  of  waters. 
They  entered  the  basin  at  that  point,  and 


FREMONT'S  EXPEDITION. 


289 


continued  for  some  time  to  travel  in  it, 
having  its  south-eastern  rim — the  Wah- 
satch  mountain — on  the  right,  and  cross- 
ing the  streams  which  flow  down  into  it. 

In  this  eventful  exploration,  all  the 
great  features  of  the  western  slope  of  our 
continent  were  brought  to  light  —  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  the  Utah  Lake,  the  Little 
Salt  Lake — at  all  which  places,  then  desert, 
the  Mormons  now  are ;  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
then  solitary  in  the  snow,  now  crowded 
with  Americans,  digging  gold  from  its 
banks  ;  the  beautiful  valleys  of  the  Sacra- 
mento and  San  Joaquin,  then  alive  with 
wild  horse£;  elk,  deer,  and  wild  fowls,  now 
smiling  with  American  cultivation.  The 
Great  Basin  itself,  and  its  contents ;  the 
three  Parks ;  the  approximation  of  the 
great  rivers  which,  rising  together  in  the 
central  region  of  the  Kocky  Mountains,  go 
off  .•.1,st  and  west  towards  the  rising  and 
the  siting  sun,  —  all  these,  and  other 
strange  features  of  a  :jew  region,  more 
Asiatic  than  America  n.  were  brought  to 


It  was  in  May,  1845,  that  Fremont  set 
out  on  his  third  expedition  for  the  explora- 
tion of  the  Great  West,  and  he  was  soon 
at  the  north  end  of  the  great  Tla-math 
lake,  and  in  Oregon.  Hostilities  being 
likely  to  break  out  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico,  Fremont,  in  order  to 
avoid  exciting  any  unjust  suspicion  as  to 
the  character  of  his  movements,  obtained 
leave  of  the  Mexican  general  at  Monterey, 
to  encamp  during  the  ensuing  winter,  in 
the  San  Joaquin  valley.  It  was  not  long, 
however,  before  open  diplomatic  hostilities 
broke  out  between  the  two  republics,  and 
Fremont  received  word  from  his  governr 
ment  to  keep  an  eye  upon  Mexican  and 
other  designs  upon  California.  General 
Kearney,  by  order  of  government,  was 
constituted  head  of  the  army  of  the  west, 
which  was  to  retaliate  sternly  upon 
Mexico,  for  her  assumed  aggressions. 
New  Mexico  was  soon  prostrate  before 
American  arms.  On  the  fifth  of  July, 
1846,  under  the  lead  of  Fremont,  a  band 


FREMONT  ON   HIS  GREAT  EXPLORING  TOUR  TO  THE   FAR  WEST  AND  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS. 

light  and  revealed  to  public  view  in  the  of  Americans  declared  their  independence 

results  of  this  exploration.     But  the  great  of  Mexico  at  Sonoma,  a  small  town  near 

pathfinder    was   to   win    laurels    in   still  San  Francisco,  and,  not  long  after,  they 

another  field.  joined  Commodore  Sloat,  who  had  recently 
19 


290 


FREMONT'S  EXPEDITION. 


reduced  Monterey.  The  successor  of  Sloat 
was  Stockton,  who,  in  connection  with 
Fremont,  at  once  gained  possession  of 
Ciudad  de  los  Angelos,  the  capital  of 
Upper  California;  and  one  event  speedily 
succeeded  another,  until,  seemingly  as 
inevitable  as  the  gravitation  of  fate,  the 
loss  of  California  was  consummated,  and 
Fremont  was  appointed  governor  of  the 
territory,  which,  largely  through  his  efforts, 
had  now  become  a  permanent  possession 
of  the  United  States. 

So  curious  a  link  in  this  chain  of  events, 
as  the  throwing  off  of  the  Mexican  yoke 
at  Sonoma,  and  illustrating  so  aptly,  as  it 
does,  the  intrepidity  of  the  great  explorer, 
possesses  an  interest  peculiarly  appropriate 
to  this  narrative.  Having  aided  in  clear- 
ing the  enemy  from  the  country  north  of 
the  bay  of  San  Francisco,  Fremont  re- 
turned to  Sonoma  on  the  evening  of  the 
fourth  of  July,  and,  on  the  morning  of  the 
fifth,  called  the  people  together,  explained 
to  them  the  condition  of  things  in  the 
province,  and  recommended  an  immediate 
declaration  of  independence.  The  declar- 
ation was  made,  and  he  was  selected  as 
governor,  or  chief  director  of  affairs. 

From  Sonoma  to  Yerba  Buena,  (says 
one  who  accompanied  him,)  the  little 
hamlet  where  now  stands  the  queen  city 
of  the  Pacific,  Fremont  augmented  his 
stock  of  horses  to  the  number  of  fifteen 
hundred,  completely  clearing  the  country; 
and  then  commenced  one  of  the  most  pecu- 
liar races  for  a  fight  ever  probably  known. 
Rarely  speaking  but  to  urge  on  his  men, 
or  to  question  some  passing  native,  taking 
the  smallest  modicum  of  refreshment,  and 
watching  while  others  snatched  a  moment's 
repose,  was  he  wrapped  up  in  his  project 
and  determined  to  have  some  of  the  fight. 
Through  San  Pablo,  and  Monterey,  and 


Josepha,  they  dashed  like  the  phantom 
riders  of  the  Hartz  mountains,  startling 
the  inhabitants,  and  making  the  night- 
watcher  cross  himself  in  terror  as  their 
band  flew  on.  The  river  Sacrificios  was 
reached ;  swollen  by  the  rains,  it  rolled  on, 
a  rapid,  muddy  stream  ;  his  men  paused. 

"  Forward  !  Forward  !  "  cried  Fremont. 

Dashing  in  himself,  the  struggle  is  a 
fierce  one,  but  his  gallant  mustang  breasts 
the  current,  and  he  reaches  the  opposite 
shore  in  safety  ;  his  men  after  a  time  join 
him,  two  brave  fellows  finding  a  watery 
grave,  and  many  horses  being  carried  down 
the  stream ;  but  nothing  can  now  stop 
him — the  heights  adjacent  to  the  Puebla 
appear — now  a  smile  might  be  seen  on  the 
imperturbable  visage  of  the  leader — 'tis  the 
sixth  day,  and  the  goal  is  won ! 

With  ninety  men  on  the  last  of  his  car- 
avan of  horses,  he  fell  like  a  thunderbolt 
on  the  rear  of  the  Mexicans.  The  day 
was  with  them ;  the  little  band  of  stout 
hearts  guarding  the  presidio,  taken  by 
surprise,  and  not  having  the  advantage  of 
the  Mexicans  in  regard  to  horses,  were 
beginning  to  waver.  But  cheer  up,  cheer 
again — succor  is  at  hand.  On  come  those 
riders  of  Fremont — nothing  can  withstand 
their  shock.  With  shouts  of  triumph  they 
change  the  battle  to  a  rout.  The  field  is 
won !  The  rout  of  the  enemy  was  com' 
plete,  and  so  ended  the  ride  of  the  one 
hundred.  Thus  did  Fremont  display,  by 
.the  rarest  achievements,  the  character  of 
a  consummate  scientific  explorer  and  brave 
soldier  ;  and,  for  his  pre-eminent  services 
in  behalf  of  geographical  science,  he 
received  the  highest  honors  from  the 
learned  societies  of  Europe  and  America, 
and  a  rich  and  massive  gold  medal  from 
the  king  of  Prussia,  through  the  hands  of 
Baron  Humboldt. 


XXXVI. 

MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES  BRIG-OF-WAR 
SOMERS,  CAPTAIN  A.  S.  MACKENZIE.— 1842 


Deep-Laid  Plot  to  Seize  the  Vessel,  Commit  Wholesale  Murder  of  Her  Men,  Raise  the  Black  Flag,  and 
Convert  Her  into  a  Pirate.— All  Prizes  to  be  Plundered,  Burnt,  their  Crews  Butchered,  and  Women 
and  Girls  Ravished  —Midshipman  Spencer,  Son  of  a  United  States  Cabinet  Officer,  the  Ringleader. 
— The  Chief  Conspirators  Hung  at  the  Yard-Arm. — First  Mutiny  in  the  United  States  Navy. — Spen- 
cer's Hold  Upon  His  Comrades.— Death  the  Penalty  of  Disclosure.— Confidence  Fortunately  Mis- 
placed.— A  Man  of  Honor  Tampered  With. — Captain  Mackenzie  Informed  of  the  Plot. — Treats  it 
as  Wild  and  Improbable. — Confronts  and  Questions  Spencer. — Orders  Him  to  be  Ironed. — Plan  Found 
in  His  Razor-Case.— Alarming  Disaffection  of  the  Crew.— None  of  the  Officers  Implicated. — Close 
Investigation  of  the  Case.— Spencer,  Cromwell,  and  Small,  to  Die.— Their  Fate  Announced  to 
Them.— Spencer's  Account  of  His  Life.— They  Meet  On  Their  Way  to  be  Hung.— Treatment  of 
Each  Other.— Spencer  Begs  to  Give  the  Last  Signal.— Closing  Scene  of  the  Tragedy. — All  Hands 
Cheer  the  Pliin — Raising  the  Banner  of  the  Cross. 


"  I  am  leagued  to  Ret  posieasion  of  the  vessel,  murder  the  commander  an*  officer*, 
choose  from  among  the  crew  who  are  willing  to  join  me  such  as  will  be  useful,  murdet 
tlie  rest,  and  commence  pirating;  to  attack  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to  capture, 
to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the  captured  vessels;  and  to  select  such  of  the  female  paasmi- 
gers  as  are  suitable,  and,  after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of  Ulem."— SPEHCER « 
DECLABATIOK. 


EENLY  was  the  heart  of  the  universal  Americam 
nation  wrung,  in  December,  1842,  at  the  story  of  the 
mutiny  and  tragedy  on  board  the  United  States  brig 
Somers,  then  under  the  command  of  Captain  Alex- 
ander Slidell  Mackenzie.  The  chief  ringleader  in 
this  deep-dyed  and  amazing  plot  of  crime  and  blood, 

THE  BLACK  FLAG.  was  no  less  a  person  than  Midshipman  Philip  Spen- 

cer, son  of  the  distinguished  statesman,  Hon.  John  C.  Spencer,  of  New  York,  secretary- 
of-\var  under  President  Tyler, — officiating  in  that  capacity  at  the  very  time  of  the 
ghastly  occurrences  here  recited.. 

In  the  whole  history  of  the  American  navy,  this  act  stands  out  by  itself,  without  a 
parallel  or  precedent;  and,  surely,  no  pen  of  romance  could  weave  a  tale  of  imaginary 
crime  equal  in  ghastly  horror  to  this  startling  chapter — the  first  regularly  organized 
mutiny  in  the  annals  of  the  United  States  naval  service. 

The  development  of  the  mutinous  scheme  transpired  on  the  voyage  of  the  Somers  to 
the  United  States  from  Liberia,  from  which  place  she  sailed  on  the  eleventh  of  Novem- 
ber, intending  to  proceed  home  via  St.  Thomas.  It  was  on  Saturday,  the  twenty-sixth 
of  November,  that  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  went  into  the  cabin  and  irformed  Captain 
Mackenzie  that  a  conspiracy  existed  on  board  of  the  brig  to  capture  her,  murder  the 
commander,  the  officers,  and  most  of  the  crew,  and  convert  her  into  a  pirate,  acting 
Midshipman  Philip  Spencer  being  at  the  head  of  it.  He  stated  that  Purser  Hieskell 


292 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


had  just  informed  him  that  Mr.  Wales, 
his  steward,  had  approached  him  as  if  to 
converse  on  their  joint  duty,  and  revealed 
to  him,  for  the  purpose  of  its  being  com- 
municated to  the  commander,  important 
information.  This  was,  that,  on  the  night 
previous,  being  November  twenty-fifth,  he, 
Wales,  had  been  accosted  by  Spencer,  and 
invited  by  him  to  get  up  on  the  booms,  as 
he  had  something  uncommon  to  say. 
When  on  the  booms,  Spencer  addressed 
him  as  follows : 

"  Do  you  fear  death  ?  Do  you  fear  a 
dead  man  ?  Are  you  afraid  to  kill  a, 
man?" 

Mr.  Wales,  thus  accosted,  and  having 
his  curiosity  excited,  with  admirable  cool- 
ness induced  Spencer  to  go  on,  and  took 
the  oath  of  secrecy  which  was  administered 
to  him.  Spencer  then  informed  him  that 
he  was  leagued  with  about  twenty  of  the 
crew  to  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  were 
willing  to  join  him  such  as  would  be 
useful,  and  murder  the  rest  and  commence 
pirating.  He  mentioned  all  the  details  of 
the  plan,  and  which  was  well  suited  to  the 
attainment  of  his  object — involving,  in- 
deed, much  better  notions  of  seamanship 
than  he  himself  was  capable  of  forming. 
As  one  of  the  inducements  to  her  capture, 
he  stated  that  a  box,  containing  wine  of 
rare  value,  brought  off  with  much  care  at 
Madeira,  as  a  present  from  the  United 
States  consul  at  Funchal  to  Commodore 
Nicholson,  contained  money  or  treasure  to 
a  large  amount.  It  was  his  purpose  to 
carry  the  vessel  to  the  Isle  of  Pines,  where 
one  of  his  associates,  who  had  been  in  the 
business  before,  had  friends ;  to  attack  no 
vessels  that  he  was  not  sure  to  capture ;  to 
destroy  every  vestige  of  the  captured 
vessels,  after  having  removed  what  was 
useful;  to  select  such  of  the  female  pas- 
sengers as  were  suitable,  and,  after  they 
had  used  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them.  Spencer  also  stated  that  he  had 
the  written  plan  of  his  project  in  the  back 
of  his  cravat,  which  he  would  show  to  Mr. 
Wales  in  the  morning.  On  separating, 


Spencer  gave  expression  to  terrible  threats 
of  instant  death  to  Wales  from  himself  or 
his  accomplices,  should  Wales  utter  one 
word  of  what  had  passed. 

So  monstrous  and  improbable  did  this 
project  appear  to  Captain  Mackenzie,  as 
thus  related  to  him  by  Lieutenant  Ganse- 
voort,  that  he  at  first  treated  it  with  ridi- 
cule, premising  that  Spencer  had  been 
f  reading  some  piratical  stories,  and  then 
amused  himself  with  working  upon  Wales's 
credulity.  Considering  it,  however,  to  be 
his  duty  to  be  on  his  guard,  lest  there 
should  be  even  a  shadow  of  reality  in  the 
scheme,  Mackenzie  directed  his  first  lieu- 
tenant, Gansevoort,  to  watch  Spencer  nar- 
rowly, without,  of  course,  seeming  to  do  so. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  Lieutenant 
Gansevoort  gave  information  that  Spencer 
had  been  in  the  wardroom  examining  a 
chart  of  the  West  Indies,  and  had  asked 
the  assistant  surgeon  some  questions  about 
the  Isle  of  Pines,  the  surgeon  replying 
that  it  was  a  place  much  frequented  by 
pirates,  and  dryly  asking  him  in  return  if 
he  had  any  acquaintances  there.  He 
passed  the  day  rather  sullenly  in  one 
corner  of  the  steerage,  as  was  his  custom, 
engaged  in  examing  a  small  piece  of  paper 
and  writing  on  it  with  his  pencil,  and 
occasionally  finding  relaxation  in  working 
with  a  penkife  at  the  tail  of  a  devil-fish, 
one  of  the  joints  of  which  he  had  formed 
into  a  sliding-ring  for  his  cravat.  He  had 
endeavored,  too,  for  some  days,  to  ascertain 
the  rate  of  the  chronometer,  by  applying 
to  Midshipman  Rodgers,  to  whom  it  was 
unknown,  and  who  referred  him  to  the 
master.  With  boatswain's  mate  F.  Crom- 
well, and  Elisha  Small,  seaman,  he  was 
seen  in  secret  and  nightly  conferences,  and 
to  both  of  these  he  had  given  money,  a8 
well  as  to  others  of  the  crew ;  he  had  dis- 
tributed tobacco  extensively  among  the 
apprentices,  in  defiance  of  reiterated 
orders ;  corrupting  the  wardroom  steward, 
he  caused  him  to  steal  brandy  from  the 
wardroom  mess,  with  which  Spencer  not 
only  got  drunk  himself,  but  administered 
it  to  several  of  the  crew.  Though  servile 
in  his  intercourse  with  Captain  Mackenzie, 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


293 


when  among  the  crew  Spencer  loaded  him 
•with  blasphemous  vituperation,  and  pro- 
claimed that  it  would  be  a  pleasing  task 
to  roll  him  overboard  off  the  round-house. 
At  one  time  he  drew  a  brig  with  a  black 
flay,  and  asked  one  of  the  midshipmen 
what  he  thought  of  it;  he  repeatedly 
asserted,  in  the  early  part  of  the  cruise, 
that  the  brig  might  be  easily  taken ;  and, 
a  short  time  prior  to  the  revelation  of  the 
plot,  he  had  examined  the  hand  of  Mid- 
shipman Rodgers,  told  his  fortune,  and 
predicted  for  him  a  speedy  and  violent 
death.  These  and  various  other  circum- 
stances, determined  Captain  Mackenzie  to 
make  sure  at  once  of  Spencer's  person, 
and,  accordingly,  at  evening  quarters,  all 
the  officers  were  ordered  to  lay  aft  on  the 
quarter-deck,  excepting  the  midshipman 
stationed  on  the  foreca'stle.  The  master 
was  ordered  to  take  the  wheel,  and  those 
of  the  crew  stationed  abaft  sent  to  the 
mainmast.  Captain  Mackenzie  now  ap- 
proached Spencer,  and  said  to  him — 


"  I  learn,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  you  aspire 
to  the  command  of  the  Somers." 

"Oh  no,  sir,"  replied  Spencer,  with  a 
deterential,  but  unmoved  and  gently  smil- 
ing expression. 

"  Did  you  not  tell  Mr.  Wales,  sir,  that 


you  had  a  project  to  kill  the  commander, 
the  officers,  and  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  crew  of  this  vessel,  and  to  convert  her 
into  a  pirate  ?  " 

"  I  may  have  told  him  so,  sir,  but  it  was 
in  joke." 

"You  admit,  then,  that  you  told  him 
so?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  in  joke ! " 

"  This,  sir,  is  joking  on  a  forbidden  sub- 
ject— this  joke  may  cost  you  your  life ! 
Be  pleased  to  remove  your  neck  handker- 
chief." 

"What  have  you  done  with  the  paper 
containing  an  account  of  your  project, 
which  you  told  Mr.  Wales  was  in  the  back 
of  your  neck  handkerchief  ?"  —  nothing 
being  now  found  in  it. 

"It  is  a  paper  containing  my  day's 
work,  and  I  have  destroyed  it."^, 

"It  is  a  singular  place  to  keep  days' 
work  in." 

"  It  is  a  convenient  one,"  was  the  defer- 
ential and  bland  reply. 

"You  must  have  been  aware  that  you 
could  only  have  compassed  your  designs 
by  passing  over  my  dead  body,  and  after 
that  the  bodies  of  all  the  officers.  You 
had  given  yourself,  sir,  a  great  deal  to  do. 
It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  confine  you, 
sir;"  saying  which,  Captain  Mackenzie 
turned  to  Lieutenant  Gansevoort  with  the 
order — "  Arrest  Mr.  Spencer,  and  put  him 
in  double  irons." 

Lieutenant  Gansevoort  stepped  forward, 
and,  taking  Spencer's  sword,  ordered  him 
to  be  double  ironed,  and,  as  an  additional 
security,  handcuffed.  Lieutenant  Ganse- 
voort was  directed  to  keep  a  constant  watch 
upon  Spencer,  to  answer  all  his  wants,  but 
to  have  him  instantly  put  to  death  if 
detected  in  speaking  to  or  holding  intelli- 
gence in  any  way  with  the  crew. 

On  searching  Spencer's  locker,  a  small 
razor-case  was  found,  which  he  had  re- 
cently drawn  from  the  purser,  with  a 
razor  in  it.  Instead  of  the  razor,  the  case 
was  found  to  contain  a  small  paper,  rolled 
in  another;  on  the  inner  one  were  strange 
characters,  which  proved  to  be  Greek,  a 
language  understood  by  Spencer.  It  for- 


294 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


tunately  ha^ened  that  Midshipman  Rod- 
gers  was  also  acquainted  with  Greek,  and, 
on  his  converting  the>  characters  into  En- 
glish, they  exhibited  veil-known  names 
Among  the  crew.  The  certain — the  doubt- 
ful— those  who  were  to  be  kept  whether 
they  would  join  or  not — those  who  were  to 
do  the  work  of  murder  in  th*  various  de- 
partments, to  take  the  wheel,  to  open  the 
arm-chests  —  were  arranged  in  separate 
rows. 

The  next  day,  the  crew  were  inspected 
at  quarters,  at  ten  o'clock,  Gaptuin  Mac- 
kenzie taking  his  station  abaft,  with  the 
intention  of  particularly  observing  Crom- 
well and  Small.  The  persons  of  both  were 
faultlessly  clean.  Cromwell  stood  up  to 
his  full  stature,  his  muscles  braced,  his 
battle-axe  grasped  resolutely,  his  cheek 
pale,  but  his  eye  fixed  as  indifferently,  at 
the  other  side,  and  he  had  a  determined 
and  dangerous  air.  Small  made  a  very 
different  figure ;  his  appearance  was 
ghastly;  he  shifted  his  weight  from  side 
to  side,  and  his  battle-axe  passed  from  one 
hand  to  the  other ;  his  eye  wandered  irres- 
olutely, but  never  towards  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie. Cromwell  was  the  tallest  man 
on  board,  Small  the  shortest. 

From  the  known  complicity  of  Cromwell 
in  the  plot,  he  was  brought  to  the  quarter- 
deck at  night,  where  Captain  Mackenzie 
caused  him  to  sit  down,  and,  on  question- 
ing him  as  to  a  secret  conversation  he  had 
held  the  night  before  with  Spencer,  he 
denied  its  being  him,  and  said,  "  It  was 
not  ine,  sir,  it  was  Small."  Cromwell  was 
immediately  ironed;  and  Small,  thus 
pointed  out  by  an  associate  to  increased 
suspicion,  was  also  sent  for,  interrogated, 
and  ironed.  Increased  vigilance  was  now 
en  joined  upon  all  the  officers  ;  henceforward 
all  were  perpetually  armed ;  and  either 
the  captain  or  his  first  lieutenant  was 
always  on  deck,  and  generally  both  of 
them  were.  Several  acts  of  disobedience 
occurring  among  the  ship's  company,  pun- 
ishment was  inflicted  upon  the  transgres- 
sors to  the  full  extent  of  the  law ;  after 
which,  Captain  Mackenzie  took  occasion  to 
address  the  crew,  explaining  to  them  the 


general  nature  of  Spencer's  project,  en- 
deavoring to  divert  the  minds  of  the 
slightly  disaffected  from  the  pictures  o* 
successful  vice  which  the  piratical  plot 
presented,  and  informing  them  that  the 
majority  of  them,  whatever  might  be  their 
inclinations,  were  to  share  the  fate  of  the 
officers.  It  is  an  interesting  fact,  that 
every  one  of  the  officers  of  the  Somers, 
from  the  first  lieutenant  to  the  command- 
er's clerk,  proved  faithful,  chivalrous,  and 
patriotic,  from  first  to  last. 

The  effect  of  the  captain's  address  was 
various,  upon  the  minds  of  the  crew.  It 
filled  many  with  horror  at  the  idea  of  what 
they  had  escaped  from  ;  it  inspired  others 
with  terror  at  the  danger  awaiting  them 
from  their  connection  with  the  conspiracy; 
but  the  whole  crew  was  far  from  tranquil- 
lized. The  most  seriously  implicated 
began  once  more  to  collect  in  knots  during 
the  night.  Seditious  words  were  heard 
through  the  Tessel,  and  an  insolent  and 
menacing  air  assumed  by  many.  Some  o:, 
the  petty  officers  had  been  sounded  by  th? 
first  lieutenant,  and  found  to  be  true  to 
their  colors.  They  were  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  vessel  was  yet  far  from  safe, 
and  that  an  outbreak  having  for  its  object 
the  release  of  the  prisoners  was  seriously 
contemplated. 

This  alarming  state  of  disaffection,  the 
increased  number  who  missed  their  muster, 
repeated  acts  of  insubordination,  together 
with  other  considerations,  induced  Captain 
Mackenzie  to  have  a  thorough  inspection 
of  the  crew,  the  immediate  arrest  of  those 
principally  suspected,  and,  on  the  thirtieth 
of  November,  he  addressed  a  letter  to  all 
the  officers  on  board,  excepting  the  mid- 
shipmen, asking  their  opinion  as  to  what 
additional  measures  were  necessary  to  tb.3 
security  of  the  vessel.  On  receipt  of  this 
letter,  all  the  officers  assembled  in  th=! 
wardroom  and  commenced  the  examination 
of  witnesses.  The  witnesses  were  duh 
sworn,  the  testimony  accurately  written, 
down,  and,  in  addition  to  the  oath,  each 
witness  signed  the  evidence  which  he  had 
given,  after  hearing  it  read  over  to  him. 

Without  interruption  and  without  food, 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


the  officers  continued  in  their  occupation  a 
whole  day,  and  the  unanimous  result  of 
their  deliberations  was,  that  Spencer, 
Cromwell,  and  Small  should  be  put  to 
death. 

In  the  justice  of  this  opinion  Captain 
Mackenzie  at  once  concurred,  and  in  the 
necessity  of  carrying  its  recommendation 
into  immediate  effect.  The  petty  officers 
were  now  mustered  on  the  quarter-deck, 
and  they  were  each  armed  with  a  cutlass, 
pistol,  and  cartridge-box,  after  which  the 
captain  said  to  them, 

"  My  lads  !  you  are  to  look  at  me — to 
obey  iny  orders — and  to  see  my  orders 
obeyed!  Go  forward!" 

The  captain  now  gave  orders  that  imme- 
diate preparations  be  made  for  hanging  the 
three  principal  criminals  at  the  main  yard- 
arm  ;  and  all  hands  were  called  to  witness 
the  punishment.  The  after  guard  and 
idlers  of  both  watches  were  mustered  on 
the  quarter-deck  at  the  whip  intended  for 
Spencer;  the  forecastlemen  and  foretop- 


men  at  that  of  Cromwell,  to  whose  corrup- 
tion they  had  been  chiefly  exposed ;  and 
the  maintopmen  of  both  watches  at  that 
intended  for  Small,  who  for  a  month  or 
more  had  filled  the  situation  of  captain  of 
the  maintop.  The  officers  were  stationed 
about  the  decks,  and  the  petty  officers 
similarly  distributed,  with  orders  to  cut 
down  whoever  should  let  go  the  whip  with 
even  one  hand  or  failed  to  haul  on  it  when 
ordered.  The  ensign  and  pennant  being 


bent  on  and  ready  for  hoisting,  Captain 
Mackenzie  put  on  his  full  uniform,  and 
proceeded  to  execute  the  most  painfu, 
duty  that  had  ever  devolved  on  an  Ameri- 
can commander — that  of  announcing  to 
the  criminals  their  fate.  To  Spencer  he 
said: 

"  When  you  were  about  to  take  my  life, 
and  to  dishonor  me  as  an  officer  while  in 
the  execution  of  my  rightful  duty,  without 
cause  of  offense  to  you,  on  speculation,  it 
was  your  intention  to  remove  me  suddenly 
from  the  world,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  in  my  sleep,  without  a  moment  to 
utter  one  whisper  of  affection  to  my  wife 
and  children — one  prayer  for  their  welfare. 
Your  life  is  now  forfeited  to  your  country; 
and  the  necessities  of  the  case,  'growing 
out  of  your  corruption  of  the  crew,  compel 
me  to  take  it.  I  will  not,  however,  imi- 
tate your  intended  example  as  to  the 
manner  of  claiming  the  sacrifice.  If  there 
yet  remains  you  one  feeling  true  to 
nature,  it  shall  be  gratified.  If  you  have 
any  word  to  send  to  your  parents,  it  shall 
be  recorded,  and  faithfully  delivered.  Ten 
minutes  shall  be  granted  you  for  this  pur* 
pose." 

This  intimation  entirely  overcame  him. 
He  sank,  with  tears,  upon  his  knees,  and 
said  he  was  not  fit  to  die.  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie repeated  to  him  his  own  catechism, 
and  begged  him  at  least  to  let  the  officer 
set  to  the  men  he  had  corrupted  and  se- 
duced, the  example  of  dying  with  decorum. 
This  immediately  restored  him  to  entire 
self-possession,  and,  while  he  was  engaged 
in  prayer,  Captain  Mackenzie  went  and 
made  in  succession  the  same  communica- 
tion to  Cromwell  and  Small.  Cromwell 
fell  upon  his  knees  completely  immanned, 
protested  his  innocence,  and  invoked  the 
name  of  his  wife.  Spencer  said:  "As 
these  are  the  last  words  I  have  to  say,  I 
trust  they  will  be  believed:  Cromwell  is 
innocent!"  Though  the  evidence  had 
been  conclusive,  Captain  Mackenzie  was 
staggered,  and  at  once  consulted  Lieu- 
tenant Gansevoort,  who  said  there  was  not 
a  shadow  of  doubt.  He  was  told  to  con- 
i  suit  the  petty  officers ;  he  was  condemned 


296 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


by  acclamation  by  them  all,  as  the  one 
man  of  whom  they  had  real  apprehen- 
sion. Spencer  probably  wished  to  save 
Cromwell,  in  fulfillment  of  some  mutual 
oath ;  or,  more  likely,  he  hoped  he 
might  yet  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
and  carry  out  the  scheme  of  murder 
and  outrage  matured  between  them. 
Small  alone,  who  had  been  set  down 
as  the  poltroon  of  the  three,  received 
the  announcement  of  his  fate  with  com- 
posure. When  asked  if  he  had  any 
messages  to  send,  he  said,  "I  have 
nobody  to  care  for  me  but  my  poor  old 
mother,  and  I  had  rather  she  should 
know  how  I  have  died."  On  Captain 
Mackenzie  returning  again  to  Spencer,  and 
asking  him  if  he  had  no  messages  to  send 
to  his  friends,  he  answered,  "  None  that 
they  would  wish  to  receive."  Subse- 
quently he  said : 

"Tell  them  I  die,  wishing  them  every 
blessing  and  happiness.  /  deserve  death 
for  this  and  many  other  crimes.  There 
are  few  crimes  that  I  have  not  committed. 
I  feel  sincerely  penitent,  and  my  only  fear 
of  death  is,  that  my  repentance  may  be 
too  late.  I  have  wronged  many  persons, 
but  chiefly  my  parents.  This  will  kill  my 
poor  mother  !  I  do  not  know  what  would 
have  become  of  me  had  I  succeeded.  I 
fear  this  may  injure  my  father.  I  will 
tell  you  frankly  what  I  intended  to  do, 
had  I  got  home — I  should  have  attempted 
to  escape.  I  had  the  same  project  on 
board  the  John  Adams  and  Potomac.  It 
seemed  to  be  a  mania  with  me." 

In  reply  to  Spencer's  question  whether 
the  law  would  justify  the  commander  in 
taking  life  under  such  circumstances,  Cap- 
tain Mackenzie  assured  him  that  it  would; 
that  he  had  consuHea  all  his  brother  offi- 
cers, his  messmates  included,  except  the 
boys,  and  their  opinion  had  been  placed 
before  him.  He  stated  that  it  was  just, 
and  that  he  deserved  death.  He  asked 
what  was  to  be  the  manner  of  his  death. 
Captain  Mackenzie  explained  it  to  him. 
He  objected  to  it,  and  asked  to  be  shot. 
He  was  told  that  no  distinction  could  be 
made  between  him  and  those  he  had  cor- 


rupted.    He  admitted  that  this  also  was 
just.     He  objected  to  the  shortness  of  the 
time   for   preparation,  and   asked   for  an 
hour.      No    answer    was    made    to    this 
request;    but   he   was   not    hurried,   and 
more  than  the  hour  which  he  asked  for 
was  allowed  to  elapse.     He  requested  that 
his  face  might  be  covered ;  this  was  read- 
ily  granted,    and   he   was  asked  what  it 
should  be  covered  with ;  he  did  not  care. 
'  A   handkerchief    was   sought  for   in   his 
locker ;  none  but  a   black   one   could   be 
found,  and  this  was  brought  for  the  purpose. 
It   was    now    ordered   that    the    other 
criminals  should  be  consulted  as  to  their 
wishes   in   this  particular.     They  joined 
in   the    request,  and   frocks    were    taken 
from   their    bags    to    cover   their    heads. 
Spencer  asked  to  have  his  irons  removed; 
but    this    was    not    granted.      He    asked 
for  a  bible   and   prayer-book;    they  were 
brought,  and   others    ordered   to  be   fur- 
nished   to    his    accomplices.      He    then 
said  to  Captain  Mackenzie,  "I  am  a  be- 
liever!    Do  you  think  that  any  repent- 
ance at  this  late  hour  can  be  accepted  ?  " 
In   reply   to   this,  the  -captain   called  to 
his  recollection  the  case  of  the  penitent 
thief  who  was  pardoned  upon  the  cross. 
He  then  read  in  the  bible,  kneeled  down, 
and  read  in  the  prayer-book.     He  again 
asked    the    captain    if    he    thought    that 
his    repentance    could    be    accepted,    the 
time  being  so  short,  and  he  did  not  know 
if  he  was  really  changed.     In  answer  to 
this,  he  was  told  that  God,  who  was  all- 
merciful  as  well  as  all-wise,  could  not  only 
understand   the    difficulties   of    the   situ- 
ation, but  extend  to  him  such  a  measure  of 
mercy  as   his   necessities   might   require. 
He  said,  "  I  beg  your  forgiveness  for  what 
I  have  meditated  against  you."     Captain 
Mackenzie  gave  him  his  hand,  and  assured 
him  of  his  sincere  forgiveness. 

More  than  an  hour  was  occupied  in  this 
scene.  The  petty  officers  had  been  as- 
signed, according  to  rank,  to  conduct  the 
several  prisoners  to  the  gang-way.  At  the 
break  of  the  quarter-deck  was  a  narrow 
passage  between  the  trunk  and  pump-weiL 
Spencer  and  Cromwell  met  exactly  OK 


MUTINY  ON  I50AED  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


297 


^      ^    vi\  JC^^i 

^ANOiNtt  OF  ltLNGLKAl>Jfiiia  i-'itOAt  T11K 


uither  side.    The  captain  directed 
Cromwell  to  stop,  to  allow  Spen- 
cer to  pass  first.     At  this  mo- 
ment   Spencer    himself   paused, 
and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  see 
Mr.  Wales.     He  was  called,  and 
Cromwell  now  passed  on,  almost 
j  touching   Spencer.     When   Mr. 
Wales    came    up,    Spencer    ex- 
tended his  hand  to  him  and  said, 
"  Mr.    Wales,   J  earnestly  hope 
you  will  forgive  me  for  tamper- 
ing with  your  fidelity  !  "    Spen- 
cer   was   wholly   unmoved,   Mr. 
Wales  almost  overcome  with  emotion  while  he 
replied,  "I  do  forgive  you  from  the  bottom 
of  my  heart,  and  I  hope  that  God  will  forgive 
you  also!"     "Farewell"  exclaimed  Spencer; 
and  Mr.  Wales,  weeping,  and  causing  others 
.  to  weep,  responded  "  Farewell!  " 


298 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


Spencer  now  passed  on.  At  the  gang- 
way he  met  Small.  With  the  same  calm 
manner,  but  with  a  nearer  approach  to 
emotion,  he  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Small,  extended  his  hand,  and  said,  "Small, 
forgive  me  for  leading  you  into  this 
trouble."  Small  drew  back  with  horror. 
"  No,  by  God  !  Mr,  Spencer,  I  can't  for- 
give you ! ''  On  a  repetition  of  the  re- 
quest, Small  exclaimed  in  a  searching; 
voice,  "  Ah,  Mr.  Spencer,  that  is  a  hard 
thing  for  you  to  ask  me  !  We  shall  soon 
be  before  the  face  of  God,  and  then  we 
shall  know  all  about  it!"  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie went  to  Small,  urging  him  to  be 
more  generous — that  this  was  no  time  for 
resentment.  He  relented  at  once,  held 
out  his  hand  to  take  the  still  extended 
hand  of  Mr.  Spencer,  and  said  with  frank- 
ness and  emotion,  "  I  do  forgive  you,  Mr. 
Spencer  !  May  God  Almighty  forgive  you 
also !  "  After  some  farewell  words  with 
Captain  Mackenzie,  he  said,  turning  to 
those  who  held  the  ship,  "Now,  brother 
topmates,  give  me  a  quick  and  easy  death!" 
He  was  placed  on  the  hammocks  forward 
of  the  gangway,  with  his  face  inboard; 
Spencer  was  similarly  placed  abaft  the 
gangway ;  and  Cromwell  also  on  the  other 
side. 

About  this  time,  Spencer  sent  for  Lieu- 
tenant Gansevoort,  and  told  him  that  he 
might  have  heard  that  his  courage  had 
been  doubted ;  he  wished  him  to  bear  tes- 
timony that  he  died  like  a  brave  man.  He 
then  asked  the  captain,  what  was  to  be  the 
signal  for  execution  ;  the  captain  said, 
that,  being  desirous  to  hoist  the  colors  at 
the,  moment  of  execution,  at  once  to  give 
solemnity  to  the  act  and  to  indicate  by  it 
tha-.  the  colors  of  the  Somers  were  fixed  to 
the  mast-head,  it  was  his  intention  to  beat 
to  call  as  for  hoisting  the  colors,  then  roll 
off,  and  at  the  third  roll  fire  a  gun.  Spen- 
cer asked  to  be  allowed  himself  to  give  the 
••vord  to  fire  the  gun;  this  request  was 
granted,  and  the  drum  and  fife  were  dis- 
missed. He  asked  if  the  gun  was  under 
him,  and  was  told  that  it  was  next  but 
one  to  him.  He  begged  that  no  interval 
might  elapse  between  giving  the  word 


and  firing  the  gun.  Captct.n  Mackenzie 
asked  if  they  were  firing  with  the  lock  anf1 
wafer,  which  had  always  proved  quick  anc 
sure,  but  was  told  that  they  had  a  tube  and 
priming,  and  were  "prepared  to  fire  with  a 
match.  Some  delay  would  have  ensued, 
to  open  the  arm  chest  and  get  out  a  wafer. 
The  captain  ordered  a  suppty  of  live  coals 
to  be  passed  up  from  the  galley,  and  fresh 
ones  continually  supplied ;  then  assured 
Spencer  there  would  be  no  delay. 

Time  still  wearing  away  in  this  manner, 
Small  requested  leave  to  address  the  crew. 
Spencer,  having  leave  to  give  the  word, 
was  asked  if  he  would  consent  to  the 
delay.  He  assented,  and  Small's  face 
being  uncovered,  he  spoke  as  follows: 
"Shipmates  and  topmates!  take  warning 
by  my  example.  I  never  was  a  pirate.  I 
never  killed  a  man.  It's  for  saying  I 
would  do  it,  that  I  am  about  to  depart  this 
life.  See  what  a  word  will  do !  It  was 
going  in  a  Guineaman  that  brought  me  to 
this.  Beware  of  a  Guineaman."  He 
turned  to  Spencer  and  said  to  him,  "  I  am 
now  ready  to  die,  Mr.  Spencer,  are  you  ?  " 
Cromwell's  last  words  were,  "  Tell  my  wife 
I  die  an  innocent  man ;  tell  Lieutenant 
Morris  I  die  an  innocent  man  ! "  It  had 
been  the  game  of  this  leading  conspirator 
to  appear  innocent. 

Captain  Mackenzie  now  placed  himself 
on  a  trunk,  in  a  situation  from  which  his 
eye  could  take  in  everything,  and  waited 
for  some  time;  but  no  word  came.  At 
length,  the  captain  was  informed  that 
Spencer  said  he  could  not  give  the  word — 
that  he  wished  the  commander  to  give  the 
word  himself.  The  gun  was  accordingly 
fired,  and  the  execution  took  placet  The 
three  conspirators  against  their  country, 
their  flag,  their  comrades  and  mankind, 
swung  lifeless  in  the  air,  from  the  yard- 
arm  ; — a  fate  richly  deserved,  at  least  by 
him  who  had  atrociously  declared:  "I  am 
leagued  to  get  possession  of  the  vessel, 
murder  the  commander  and  officers,  choose 
from  among  those  of  the  crew  who  are 
willing  to  join  me  such  as  will  be  useful, 
murder  the  rest,  and  commence  pirating; 
to  attack  no  vessels  that  I  am  not  sure  to 


MUTINY  ON  BOARD  THE  BRIG  SOMERS. 


299 


capture ;  to  destroy  every  vestige  of  the 
captured  vessels ;  and  to  select  such  of  the 
female  passengers  as  are  suitable,  and, 
after  using  them  sufficiently,  to  dispose  of 
them." 

The  crew  were  now  ordered  aft,  and 
were  addressed  by  Captain  Mackenzie, 
from  the  trunk  on  which  he  was  standing ; 
after  which,  the  crew  were  piped  down 
from  witnessing  punishment,  and  all  hands 
called  to  cheer  the  ship.  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie himself  gave  the  order — "  Stand  by 
to  give  three  hearty  cheers  for  the  flag  of 
our  country  !  "  Never  were  three  heartier 
cheers  given.  On  the  following  Sunday, 
after  the  laws  for  the  government  of  the 
navy  had  been  read,  as  usual  on  the  first 
Sunday  of  the  month,  the  ere,  .vere  again 
impressively  addressed  by  Captain  Mac- 
kenzie, and,  in  conclusion,  he  told  them 
that  as  they  had  shown  that  they  could 
give  cheers  for  their  country,  they  should 
now  give  cheers  to  their  God, — for  they 


would  do  this  when  they  sang  praises  to 
his  name.  The  colors  were  now  hoisted, 
and,  above  the  American  ensign,  the  only 
banner  to  which  it  may  give  place, — the 
banner  of  the  cross.  And  now,  over  the 
vasty  deep,  there  resounded  that  joyous 
song  of  adoration,  the  hundredth  psalm, 
sung  by  all  the  officers  and  crew. 

On  the  arrival  home,  of  the  Somers,  the 
tragedy  was  investigated  by  a  court  of 
inquiry,  consisting  of  Commodores  Stewart, 
Jacob  Jones,  and  Dallas,  and  Captain 
Mackenzie's  course  was  fully  approved. 
A  court-martial  was  also  subsequently 
held,  at  his  personal  request,  of  which 
Commodore  John  Downes  was  president, 
and  the  trial,  which  lasted  forty  days, 
resulted  in  his  acquittal.  One  of  the 
ablest  reviews  of  this  case,  was  that 
by  Mr.  J.  Fenimore  Cooper,  in  whicft 
Mackenzie's  course  was  condemned ;  but 
the  popular  opinion  was  greatly  in  hi» 
favor. 


XXXVII. 

SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  AND  FIERY  COMET 
IN  THE  SKIES  AT  NOONDAY.— 1843. 


It  Sweeps  Through  the  Heavens,  for  Several  Weeks,  with  a  Luminous  Train  108,000,000  Miles  in 
Length. — Almost  Grazes  the  Sun,  and,  after  Whirling  Around  that  Orb  with  Prodigious  Velocity, 
Approaches  the  Earth  with  a  Fearful  Momentum. — Its  Mysterious  Disappearance  in  the  Unknown 
Realms  and  Depths  of  Space.— Most  Notable  of  all  Comets.— First  Visible  in  the  Day-time. — Its 
Conspicuous  Aspect. — Strange  and  Threatening  Motion — Its  Course  Towards  the  Sun. — Their 
Supposed  Contact. — Becomes  Red  in  Passing. — Recedes  Straight  to  the  Earth. — Watched  with 
Deep  Concern. — The  Magnetic  Needle  Agitated — Wide  Fears  of  a  Collision.— Its  Probable  Result. 
— Indian  Terror  and  Prediction. — Triumphs  of  Astronomy. — Diameter  of  the  Comet's  Head. — 
Measurement  of  its  Tail. — Stars  Seen  Through  the  Train. — Appearance  in  the  Equator. — Like  a 
Stream  of  Molten  Fire. — Beautiful  Ocean  Reflection.— Double  Sweep  of  the  Tail. — Other  Comet- 
ary  Phenomena. 


A  pathlesi  comet, 


"  A  pathloHi  comet, 

The  menace  of  the  universe; 
Btill  rolling  on  with  innate  force, 
Without  a  sphere,  without  a  course.'1 


SUALLY,  the  name  or  word  '  comet '  is  applied  to  bodies  which 
appear  in  the  heavens  with  a  train,  or  tail,  of  light ;  but  it  is 
now  not  uncommon  to  apply  the  term  to  those  heavenly  bodies, 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  earth's  atmosphere,  which  are  nebulous 
in  their  appearance,  and  with  or  without  a  tail.  It  is,  however, 
the  class  first  named,  which  includes  the  most  wonderful  ex- 
amples of  this  phenomenon  in  modern  times ;  and,  in  Connec- 
tion with  the  splendid  visitant  of  this  kind  that  appeared  in  1843, — almost  rivaling,  as 
it  did,  the  splendor  of  the  sun  itself, — some  notice  will  be  appropriate  of  similar  bodies 
which,  during  the  last  century,  have  excited  wonder  and  admiration. 

Without  dwelling  upon  the  appearance  of  those  comets  which  antedate  the  year 
1800,  or  upon  the  corruscatious,  flickering  and  vanishing  like  northern  lights,  of  the 
comet  of  1807,  some  mention  may  be  made  of  that  of  1811,  the  finest  that,  up  to  the 
time  of  its  appearance,  had  adorned  the  heavens  since  the  age  of  Newton.  It  was 
noted  for  its  intense  brilliancy,  and  was  visible  for  more  than  three  months  in  succes- 
sion to  the  naked  eye,  shining  with  great  splendor — being,  indeed,  a  comet  of  the 
first  class,  in  point  of  magnitude  and  luminosity.  Its  brilliant  tail,  at  its  greatest 
elongation,  had  an  extent  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  millions  of  miles,  by  a 
breadth  of  fifteen  millions  ;  and  thus,  supposing  the  nucleus  of  the  comet  to  have  been 
placed  on  the  sun,  and  the  tail  in  the  plane  of  the  orbits  of  the  planets,  it  would  have 
reached  over  those  of  Mercury,  Venus,  the  Earth,  and  have  bordered  on  that  of 
Mars.  At  its  nearest  approach  to  us,  the  comet  was  yet  distant  one  hundred  and  forty- 
one  millions  of  miles,  so  that  even  had  the  tail  pointed  to  the  earth,  its  extremity 


SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  COMET. 


301 


would  have  been  eighteen  millions  of  miles 
away  from  its  surface.  Its  appearance 
was  strikingly  ornamental  to  the  evening 
sky,  and  every  eye  waited  and  watched, 
intently,  to  gaze  upon  the  celestial  novelty, 
as  it  grew  into  distinctness  with  the  de- 
clining day.  The  elements  of  the  orbit 
of  this  comet  were  accurately  computed  by 
Professors  Bowditch,  Farrar  and  Fisher. 

The  comet  of  1843  is  regarded  as,  per- 
haps, the  most  marvelous  of  the  present 
age,  having  been  observed  in  the  day-time 
even  before  it  was  visible  at  night, — pass- 
ing very  near  the  sun,^-exhibiting  an 
enormous  length  of  tail, — and  arousing  an 
interest  in  the  public  mind  as  universal 
and  deep  as  it  was  unprecedented.  It 
startled  the  world  by  its  sudden  appari- 
tion in  the  spring,  in  the  western 
heavens,  like  a  streak  of  aurora,  streaming 
from  the  region  of  the  sun,  below  the 
constellation  of  Orion.  It  was  at  first 
mistaken,  by  multitudes,  for  the  zodiacal 
light ;  but  its  aspects  and  movements  soon 
proved  it  to  be  a  comet  of  the  very  largest 
class.  There  were,  too,  some  persons  who, 
without  regarding  it,  like  many  of  the 
then  numerous  sect  called  Millerites,  as 
foretokening  the  speedy  destruction  of  the 
world,  still  could  not  gaze  at  it  un- 
troubled by  a  certain  nameless  feeling  of 
doubt  and  fear. 

From  the  graphic  narrative  of  a  Euro- 
pean traveling  at  that  date  in  the  wilds 
of  America,  it  appears  that  the  Indians 
around  him  viewed  the  comet  of  1843  as 
the  precursor  of  pestilence  and  famine. 
One  of  his  companions,  Tamanua,  a  young 
Wapisiana,  broke  the  silence  with  which 
the  whole  party  for  some  time  stared  at 
the  starry  train  of  the  ball  of  fire,  with 
the  exclamation,  "  This  is  the  Spirit  of 
the  Stars,  the  dreadful  Capishi — -famine 
and  pestilence  await  us !  "  The  others 
immediately  burst  into  a  torrent  of  vocif- 
eration, lamenting  the  appearance  of  the 
dreadful  Capishi,  and  raising,  with  violent 
gesticulations,  their  arms  towards  the 
comet.  This  comet  was  visible  in  Bo- 
logna, Italy,  at  noon,  two  diameters  of  the 
sun's  disc  east  of  the  sun,  while  passing 


its  perihelion,  being  then  only  ninety-six 
thousand  miles  distant  from  that  lumin- 
ary, and  its  speed  three  hundred  and  sixty 
six  miles  per  second ;  so  that,  in  twelve 
minutes,  it  must  have  passed  over  a  space 
equal  to  the  distance  between  the  earth 
and  the  moon.  When  its  distance  from 
the  sun  allowed  it  to  be  visible  after  sun- 
set, it  presented  an  appearance  of  extraor- 
dinary magnificence. 

But  the  appearance  of  this  strange 
body,  as  observed  at  different  points,  by 
various  scientific  observers,  has  been  made 
a  portion  of  the  permanent  scientific  his- 
tory of  our  country,  by  Professor  Loomis, 
of  Yale  college,  to  whose  learned  investi- 
gations in  this  department  of  human 
knowledge,  more  than  one  generation  is 
largely  indebted.  In  his  admirable  paper 
on  this  magnificent  comet,  he  states  that 
it  was  seen  in  New  England  as  early  as 
half-past  seven  in  the  morning,  and  con- 
tinued till  after  three  in  the  afternoon, 
when  the  sky  became  considerably  ob- 
scured by  clouds  and  haziness.  The 
appearance,  at  first,  was  that  of  a  lumin- 
ous globular  body  with  a  short  train — the 
whole  taken  together  being  found  by 
measurement  about  one  degree  in  length. 
The  head  of  the  comet,  as  observed  by  the 
naked  eye,  appeared  circular  ;  its  light,  at 
that  time,  equal  to  that  of  the  moon  at 
midnight  in  a  clear  sky ;  and  its  apparent 
size  about  one-eighth  the  area  of  the  full 
moon.  Som^  observers  compared  it  to  a 
small  cloud  st/ongly  illuminated  by  the 
sun.  The  train  was  of  a  paler  light, 
gradually  diverging  from  the  nucleus,  and 
melting  away  into  the  brilliant  sky.  An 
observer  at  Woodstock,  Vt.,  viewed  the 
comet  through  a  common  three-feet  tele- 
scope, and  found  that  it  presented  a  dis- 
tinct and  most  beautiful  appearance,  ex- 
hibiting a  very  white  and  bright  nucleus, 
and  showing  a  tail  which  divided  near  the 
nucleus  into  two  separate  branches. 

At  Portland,  Me.,  Captain  Clark  meas- 
ured the  distance  of  the  nucleus  from  the 
sun,  the  only  measurement,  with  one  ex- 
ception, known  to  have  been  made  in  any 
part  of  the  globe  before  the  third  of 


302 


SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GEE  AT  COMET. 


March.  He  found  that  the  distance  of 
the  sun's  farthest  limb  from  the  nearest 
limb  of  the  comet's  nucleus,  was  four  de- 
grees, six  minutes,  fifteen  seconds.  At 
Conception,  in  South  America,  Captain 
Ray  saw  the  comet  on  the  twenty-seventh 
of  February,  east  of  the  sun,  distant  about 
one-sixth  of  his  diameter.  The  comet  was 
seen  at  Pernambuco,  Brazil,  and  in  Van 
Dieman's  Land,  on  the  first  of  March. 
On  the  second,  it  was  seen  in  great  bril- 
liancy at  St.  Thomas,  and  by  various 
navigators  in  the  equatorial  regions.  On 
the  evening  of  the  third,  it  was  noticed  at 
Key  West,  and  excited  much  attention. 
On  the  fourth,  it  was  seen  in  the  latitude 
of  New  York  by  a  few,  and,  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  fifth,  it  was  noticed  very  gen- 
erally. 

From  this  date,  until  about  the  close  of 
the  month,  it  presented  a  most  magnificent 
spectacle  every  clear  evening,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  moon.  As  seen  near  the 
equator,  the  tail  had  a  darkish  line  from 
its  head  through  the  center  to  the  end. 
It  was  occasionally  brilliant  enough  to 
throw  a  strong  light  upon  the  sea.  The 
greatest  length  of  tail,  as  seen  there,  was 
about  the  fifth  of  March,  sixty-nine  de- 
grees as  measured  with  the  sextant,  and 
it  was  observed  to  have  considerable  curv- 
ature. One  observer  described  it  as  an 
elongated  birch-rod,  slightly  curved,  and 
having  a  breadth  of  one  degree.  At  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  March  third,  it  was 
described  as  a  double  tail,  about  twenty- 
five  degrees  in  length,  the  two  streamers 
making  with  each  other  an  angle  of  about 
a  quarter  of  a  degree,  and  proceeding  from 
the  head  in  perfectly  straight  lines.  In 
the  United  States,  the  greatest  length  of 
tail  observed  was  about  fifty  degrees. 
Professor  Tuttle  gives  it,  as  seen  through 
the  Cambridge  telescope,  at  one  hundred 
and  eighty  millions  of  miles.  The  curva- 
ture of  the  tail  upward,  though  very 
noticeable,  scarcely  exceeded  two  degrees. 
The  first  observation  of  the  nucleus,  with 
the  exception  of  the  noonday  observations, 
is  believed  to  have  been  made  at  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  on  the  third  of  March, 


after  which  it  was  observed  regularly 
until  its  disappearance.  At  Trevandrun, 
in  India,  it  was  observed  from  the  sixth ; 
at  Cambridge,  Mass.;  it  was  observed  on 
the  ninth,  and  at  numerous  places  on  the 
eleventh.  The  first  European  observation 
of  the  nucleus  was  made  on  the  seven- 
teenth, at  Rome  and  Naples. 

The  comet  nowhere  continued  visible 
many  days  in  succession.  It  was  seldom 
seen  in  Europe  after  the  first  of  April. 
The  last  observation  at  Naples  was  on  the 
seventh.  On  the  fifteenth,  at  Berlin, 
Professor  Encke  thought  he  caught  a 
faint  glimpse  of  the  comet,  but  it  could 
not  be  found  again  on  the  subsequent 
evening.  At  Washington,  D.  C.,  the 
comet  was  observed  on  the  morning  of 
March  sixth.  Mr.  Maury  says  concerning 
it,  that  his  attention  was  called  to  a  para- 
graph in  the  newspapers  of  that  date, 
Monday,  stating  that  a  comet  was  visible 
near  the  sun  at  mid-day  with  the  naked 
eye  f  The  sky  was  clear;  but  not  being 
able  to  discover  anything  with  the  unas- 
sisted eye,  recourse  was  had  to  a  telescope, 
though  with  no  better  result.  About 
sunset  in  the  evening,  the  examination 
was  renewed,  but  still  to  no  purpose.  The 
last  faint  streak  of  day  gilded  the  west, 
beautiful  and  delicate  fleeces  of  cloud  cur- 
tained the  bed  of  the  sun,  the  upper  sky 
was  studded  with  stars,  and  all  hopes  of 
seeing  the  comet  that  evening  had  van- 
ished. Soon  after  the  time  for  retiring, 
however,  the  comet  was  observed  in  the 
west, — a  phenomenon  sublime  and  beauti- 
ful. The  needle  was  greatly  agitated; 
and  a  strongly  marked  pencil  of  light  was 
streaming  up  from  the  path  of  the  sun  in 
an  oblique  direction  to  the  southward  and 
eastward  ;  its  edges  were  parallel.  Stars 
could  be  seen  twinkling  through  it,  and  no 
doubt  was  at  first  entertained,  that  this 
was  the  tail  of  the  comet.  Direction  was 
given  to  search  the  eastern  sky  with  the 
telescope  in  the  morning,  from  early  dawn 
and  before,  till  sunrise;  but  nothing 
strange  or  uncommon  was  noticed.  Tues- 
day was  a  beautiful  day.  The  sun  was 
clear,  gilding,  as  it  sunk  below  the  hills, 


SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  COMET. 


303 


a  narrow  streak  of  cloud,  seen  through  the 
tree-tops  beyond  the  Potomac.  The  tail 
had  appeared  of  great  length  for  the  first 
time  the  evening  before ;  and  the  observ- 
ers expected,  therefore,  to  find  a  much 
greater  length  to  it  in  the  evening  follow- 
ing. It  was  a  moment  of  intense  inter- 
est when  the  first  stars  began  to  appear. 
The  last  rays  of  the  sun  still  glittered  in 
the  horizon ;  and  at  this  moment,  a  well 
•  defined  pencil  of  hairy  light  was  seen 
pointing  towards  the  sun.  Soon  after  six 
o'clock  it  grew  more  distinct,  and  then 
gradually  faded  away. 

Professor  Loomis  states  that  the  most 
complete  series  of  observations  on  this 
comet  of  1843,  in  this  country,  were  made 
by  Messrs.  Walker  and  Kendall  of  Phila- 
delphia, where  the  comet  was  followed 
until  April  tenth.  A  great  many  astron- 


perihelion  was  prodigious.  This  was  such 
as,  if  continued,  would  have  carried  it 
round  the  suii  in  two  hours  and  a  half ; 
in  fact,  it  did  go  more  than  half  round  the 
sun  in  this  time.  In  one  day — that  is, 
from  twelve  hours  before,  to  twelve  hours 
after  perihelion  passage, — it  made  two 
hundred  and  ninety-one  degrees  of  anom- 
aly; in  other  words,  it  made  more  than 
three-quarters  of  its  circuit  round  the  sun. 
The  head  of  this  comet  was  exceedingly 
small  in  comparison  with  its  tail.  When 
first  discovered,  many  were  unwilling  to 
believe  it  a  comet,  because  it  had  no  head. 
The  head  was  probably  nowhere  seen  by 
the  naked  eye  after  the  first  days  of  March. 
Al  the  close  of  March,  the  head  was  so 
faint  as  to  render  observations  somewhat 
difficult  even  with  a  good  telescope,  while 
the  tail  might  still  be  followed  by  the 


VIEW  OF  THE  GREAT  COMET  WHEX  NEAREST  THE  EARTH. 


omers,  however,  computed  the  comet's 
orbit,  and  obtained  most  extraordinary 
results  The  comet  receded  from  the  sun 
almost  in  a  straight  line,  so  that  it  required 
careful  observations  to  determine  in  which 
direction  the  comet  passed  round  the  sun, 
and  some  at  first  obtained  a  direct  orbit, 
when  it  should  have  been  retrograde.  The 
perihelion  distance — that  is,  the  least  dis- 
tance from  the  sun, — was  extremely  small, 
very  little  exceeding  the  sun's  radius. 
Some  obtained  a  smaller  quantity  than 
this,  but  such  a  supposition  seems  to  in- 
volve an  impossibility.  It  is  nevertheless 
certain,  that  the  comet  almost  grazed  the 
sun;  perhaps  some  portion  of  its  nebu- 
losity may  have  come  into  direct  collision 
with  it ! 

The    velocity  with    which    the    comet 
whirled  round  the  sun  at  the  instant  of 


naked  eye  about  thirty  degrees.  Bessel 
remarked  that  this  comet  seemed  to  have 
exhausted  its  head  in  the  manufacture  of 
its  tail.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  hence 
inferred,  that  the  tail  was  really  brighter 
than  the  head,  only  more  conspicuous  from 
its  greater  size.  A  large  object,  though 
faint,  is  much  more  noticeable  than  a 
small  one  of  intenser  light. 

The  nearest  approach  of  the  comet's 
head  to  the  earth  was  about  eighty  mil- 
lions of  miles.  The  absolute  diameter  of 
the  nebulosity  surrounding  the  head  was 
about  thirty-six  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  the  tail  was  prodigious  ;  on  the  • 
twenty-eighth  of  February,  it  was  thirty- 
five  millions  of  miles,  and  its  greatest- 
visible  length  was  one  hundred  and  eight 
millions,  namely,  on  the  twenty-first  of 
March.  Stars  were  easily  distinguishable 


304 


SUDDEN"  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  COMET. 


SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  COMET. 


305 


through  the  luminous  train.  The  visible 
portion  of  the  tail  attained  its  greatest 
length  early  in  March,  remained  nearly 
stationary  for  some  time,  and  during  the 
first  week  in  April  suddenly  disappeared, 
from  increased  distance,  without  any  great 
diminution  of  length.  The  tail  was 
turned  nearly  toward  the  earth  on  the 
night  of  February  twenty-seventh,  in  such 
a  direction,  that  had  it  reached  the  earth's 
orbit,  it  would  have  passed  fifteen  mil- 
lions of  miles  south  of  us. 

In  regard  to  the  extraordinary  bril- 
liancy of  this  comet,  on  the  twenty-eighth 
of  February,  it  was  the  opinion  of  Profes- 
sor Loomis  —  and  no  one's  opinion  could 
have  greater  authority  or  weight  than 
his, —  that  this  was  due  to  the  comet's 
proximity  to  the  sun.  The  day  before, 
it  had  almost  grazed  the  sun's  disc.  The 
heat  it  received,  according  to  the  computa- 
tions of  Sir  John  Herschel,  must  have 
been  forty-seven  thousand  times  that  re- 
ceived by  the  earth  from  a  vertical  sun  ! 
The  rays  of  the  sun  united  in  the  focus 
of  a  lens  thirty-two  inches  in  diameter, 
and  six  feet  eight  inches  focal  length,  have 
melted  carnelian,  agate  and  rock  crystal. 
The  heat  to  which  the  comet  was  sub- 
jected must  have  exceeded  by  twenty-five 
times  that  in  the  focus  of  such  a  lens. 
Such  a  temperature  would  have  converted 
into  vapor  almost  every  substance  on  the 
earth's  surface ;  and  if  anything  retained 
the  solid  form,  it  would  be  in  a  state  of 
intense  ignition.  The  comet  on  the 
twenty-eighth  of  February  was  red  hot, 
and,  for  some  days  after  its  perihelion,  it 
retained  a  peculiar  fiery  appearance.  In 
the  equatorial  regions,  the  tail  is  described 
as  resembling  a  stream,  of  fire  from  a  fur- 
nace,. 

Such  are  some  of  the  principal  facts 
concerning  this  most  wonderful  comet  of 
modern  times,  according  to  the  investiga- 
tions made  by  Loomis, —  also  by  Bond, 
Walker,  Mitchell,  Joslin,  Hitchcock,  and 
others,' and  which  is  significantly  and  de- 
servedly called  "the  Great  Comet." 

In  1847,  another  remarkable  comet, 
visible  to  the  naked  eye,  made  its  appear- 
20 


ance  in  the  constellation  Andromeda.  In 
the  early  part  of  February,  it  shone  as  a 
star  of  the  fourth  magnitude,  with  a  tail 
extending  about  four  degrees  from  the 
nucleus.  The  distance  of  the  comet  from 
the  sun's  surface,  on  the  evening  of  March 
thirtieth,  was  only  about  three  and  a  half 
millions  of  miles.  The  cometic  nebulosity 
was  about  sixty-five  thousand  miles  in 
diameter,  and  that  of  the  more  condensed 
central  part,  eight  thousand  miles.  The 
length  of  tail  was  far  less  than  that  of  tha 
comet  of  1843.  Of  this  comet,  a  full  page 
plate  illustrates  this  article,  showing,  in  a 
peculiar  manner,  the  supernal  splendor 
characterizing  this  mysterious  order  of  the 
heavenly  bodies. 

The  comet  of  1853  was  clearly  visible 
to  the  naked  eye,  and  had  a  well  de- 
fined nucleus  and  tail.  On  investigation, 
astronomers  failed  to  identify  this  comet 
with  any  previous  one.  Its  brilliant 
nucleus  and  long  train  made  it  very  con- 
spicuous,— indeed,  one  of  the  largest  and 
most  beautiful  on  record.  The  actual 
diameter  of  the  bright  nucleus  was  eight 
thousand  miles,  or  about  equal  to  that  of 
the  earth.  Its  nearest  distance  to  the 
earth  at  any  one  time  was  sixty-eight 
millions  of  miles. 

In  September,  1858,  Donati's  celebrated 
comet  made  its  appearance,  and  was  for 
weeks  a  wonder  in  the  skies,  at  which  the 
whole  nation  gazed  with  deep  and  intense 
interest.  The  great  astronomers,  Loomis, 
Peirce,  George  P.  Bond,  William  C.  Bond, 
Tuttle,  Norton,  Hubbard,  Safford,  and 
Gould,  made  learned  observations  of  the 
celestial  visitor.  The  nucleus  was  very 
brilliant,  the  tail  prodigious.  A  star  of 
the  first  magnitude  might  have  rivaled 
the  illumination  of  this  comet,  but  noth- 
ing less  was  worthy  a  comparison.  The 
tail  had  a  curve  like  a  scimitar;  but  its 
end  was  shadowy,  faint,  tremulous,  and 
uncertain.  The  view  from  twilight  until 
deep  dark,  was  magnificent.  On  the. 
twentieth  of  October,  the  first  of  a  series 
of  extraordinary  phenomena  manifested 
itself  in  the  region  contiguous  to  the  nu- 
cleus. A  crescent-shaped  outline,  obscure 


306 


SUDDEN  APPEARANCE  OF  A  GREAT  COMET. 


and  very  narrow,  was  interspersed,  like  a 
screen,  between  the  nucleus  and  the  sun ; 
within  this,  instead  of  a  softly-blended 
nebulous  light,  indicative  of  an  undis- 
turbed condition  of  equilibrium,  the  fiery 
mass  was  in  a  state  of  apparent  commo- 
tion, as  though  upheaved  by  the  action  of 
violent  internal  forces.  On  the  twenty- 
third,  two  dark  outlines  were  traced  more 
than  half  way  round  the  nucleus,  and  on 
the  next  evening  still  another.  Other 
envelopes  were  subsequently  formed,  their 
motion  of  projection  from  the  nucleus 
being  evident  from  night  to  night.  The 
rapidity  of  their  formation,  and  the  enor- 
mous extent  to  which  they  were  ultimately 
expanded,  constituted  a  remarkable  feat- 
ure, difficult  of  explanation.  The  comet 


TELESCOPIC  VIEW  OF  THE  COMET. 

was  nearest  to  the  sun — fifty-five  millions 
of  miles, — September  thirtieth  ;  nearest 
to  the  earth — fifty-two  millions  of  miles, 
— October  twelfth.  Its  tail  was  fifty-one 
millions  of  miles  in  length. 

So  sudden  was  the  apparition  of  the 
splendid  comet  of  1861,  that  though  observ- 
ations made  at  Harvard  college  observa- 
tory, June  twenty-ninth,  failed  to  detect  it, 
it  was,  on  the  succeeding  evening,  the  most 
conspicuous  object  in  the  western  sky.  On 


the  second  of   July,   after   twilight,    the 
head,  to  the  naked   eye,  appeared   much 
brighter  than  a  star  of  the  first  magni- 
tude,— about  the   same  in  brightness  as 
the  great  comet  of  1858.     The  aspect  of 
the   tail  was    that   of   a  narrow,  straight 
ray,  projected  to  a  distance  of  one  hun- 
dred and  six  degrees  from  the  nucleus, 
being   easily  distinguishable  quite  up  to 
the    borders    of    the    milky   way.      The 
boundaries,  for  the  most  part,  were  well 
defined,    and    easily   traced    among    the 
stars.     Further   observations  on   the  tail 
made  it  evident  that  a  diffuse,  dim  light, 
with  very  uncertain  outlines,  apparently 
composed  of  hazy  filaments,  swept  off  in 
a  strong  curve  towards    the  stars  in  the 
tail  of  Ursa  Major.     This  was  evidently 
a   broad,  curved   tail,    intersected   on  its 
curved  side  at  the  distance  of  a  few  de- 
grees from  the  nucleus  or  head,  by  the 
long   straight    ray,    which,  at    the    first 
glance,  from  its  greatly  superior  bright- 
ness, seemed  alone  to  constitute  the  tail. 
The  whole  issue  of  nebulous  matter  from 
the  nucleus  far  into  the  tail  was  curiously 
grooved  and  striated.     On  the  second  of 
July,    portions    of    three    luminous    en- 
velopes were  visible.     They  rapidly  faded, 
or  were  lost  in  the  surrounding  haze,  and 
their  places  were  filled  by  new  ones.    The 
investigations  of    Messrs.    Safford,  Hall, 
and  Tuttle,  show  the  diameter  of  the  head 
of  this  comet  to  have  been  variously  esti- 
mated at  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to 
three   or  four  hundred   miles.       On    the 
second  of  July,  the  breadth  of  the  head 
of  the  nucleus  was  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  thousand  miles,  and  the  length  of  the 
tail  about  fifteen  millions  of  miles. 


XXXVIII. 

EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD.— 1843. 


Miller's  Exciting  Prediction  of  the  Second  Advent  of  Christ. — The  Speedy  Fulfillment  of  the  Latter- 
Day  Bible  Prophecies  Boldly  Declared. — Zealous  Promulgation  of  His  Views — Scores  of  Thousands 
of  Converts. — Public  Feeling  Intensely  Wrought  Upon. — Preparations  by  Many  for  the  Coming 
Event. — The  Passing  of  the  Time. — Miller's  Apology  and  Defense. — His  Deism  in  Early  Life. — 
Studies  History  and  Scripture. — Is  Struck  by  the  Prophecies. — Reads  Daniel  and  John  Critically. — 
Calculates  Their  Time. — "  About  1843  "  the  Consummation. — Basis  of  these  Conclusions. — Reluc- 
tantly Begins  to  Lecture. — Interesting  Incident. — His  Labors  and  Enthusiasm. — Three  Thousand  Lec- 
tures in  Ten  Years. — Secret  of  His  Great  Success. — Approach  of  the  Final  Day. — Cessation  of  Secular 
Pursuits. — Encamping  in  the  Fields,  in  Grave-yards  and  on  Roofs — Some  Curious  Extravagances. 
— Rebuked  by  Miller. — Repeated  Disappointments. — Misinterpretation  of  Texts. — Miller,  as  a  Man 
and  Preacher. — His  Calm  and  Happy  Death. 


"  1  confess  my  error,  and  acknowledge  my  disappointment ;  yet  I  still  believe  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near,  even  at  the  door."— MIL- 
'S FINAL  WORDS  TO  HIS  FOLLOWERS. 


EW  men  havt!  attained  a  wider 
name  or  more  rapid  and  remark- 
able note,  in  the  American  relig- 
ious world,  than  Rev.  William 
Miller,  "  the  prophet," — as  he  wa» 
familiarly  called, — founder  of  the 
sect  called  hy  his  name,  and  also 
known  as  "Second  Adventists." 
A  sketch  of  the  public  career  of 
Mr.  Miller,  and  of  the  biblical 
grounds  upon  which  he  based  his 
earnest  and  confident  prediction  of 
the  end  of  the  world  about  the 
year  1843,  together  with  some 
account  of  tha  extraordinary 
scenes  which  characterized  that 
exciting  period, — participated  in 

THE  GREAT  DAY  PROPHESIED  BY  THE  SECOND  ADVF.KTisTs.  by  tens  of  thousands  of  ardent  and 
enthusiastic  believers  in  Mr.  Miller's  views, — will  be  found  in  the  following  pages. 

Mr.  Miller  was  born  in  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  in  1782,  and,  when  he  was  four  years  of  age, 
his  father  removed  to  Low  Hampton,  in  the  state  of  New  York.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  he  settled  in  Poultney,  Vt.,  and  was  a  deputy-sheriff  for  that  county.  Taking 


308 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION   OF  THE  WOULD. 


a  military  turn,  he  received  from  Governor 
Galusha  a  lieutenant's  commission,  and,  on 
the  breaking  out  of  the  second  war  with 
England,  he  was  made  captain,  by  Presi- 
ident  Madison.  He  remained  in  the 
United  States  army  until  the  declaration 
of  peace,  taking  a  courageous  part  in  the 
action  at  PJattsburg,  where  the  British 
were  so  sorely  worsted.  After  the  close  of 
the  war,  he  returned  to  his  home,  where 
for  several  years  he  held  the  office  of  a  jus- 
tice of  the  peace. 

In  the  community  where  he  lived,  Mr. 
Miller  was  regarded  with  much  esteem,  as 
a  benevolent,  intelligent  man,  and  a  kind 
neighbor.  He  had  only  a  common  school 
education,  but  was  a  person  of  more  than 
ordinary  talent.  In  his  religious  views, 
Mr.  Miller  was  an  avowed  deist,  until 
about  his  thirty-fourth  year,  when  his 
views  and  feelings  experienced  such  a 
change  as  led  him  to  unite  with  the  Bap- 
tist church.  For  many  years  he  was  a 
most  assiduous  student  of  history  and  the 
scriptures,  in  the  study  of  which  he  be- 
came impressed  with  the  conviction  that 
the  fifth  monarchy  predicted  by  Daniel  to 
be  given  to  the  people  of  the  saints  of  the 
Most  High,  under  the  whole  heaven,  for 
an  everlasting  possession, — as  represented 
in  the  seventh  chapter  of  that  prophecy — 
was  about  to  be  consummated. 

His  views — though  he  at  no  time  claimed 
to  be,  in  any  sense,  a  prophet, — were  sub- 
stantially as  follows :  That  Jesus  Christ 
will  appear  a  second  time  in  1843,  in  the 
clouds  of  heaven  ;  that  he  would  then  raise 
the  righteous  dead,  and  judge  them 
together  with  the  righteous  living,  who 
would  be  caught  up  to  meet  him  in  the 
air;  that  he  would  purify  the  earth  with 
fire,  causing  the  wicked  and  all  their 
works  to  be  consumed  in  the  general  con- 
flagration, and  would  shut  up  their  souls 
in  the  place  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his 
angels;  that  the  saints  would  live  and 
reign  with  Christ,  on  the  new  earth,  a  thou- 
sand years;  that  then  Satan  and  the 
wicked  spirits  would  be  let  loose,  and  the 
wicked  dead  be  raised — this  being  the 
second  resurrection, — and,  being  judged, 


should  make  war  upon  the  saints,  be 
defeated,  and  cast  down  to  hell  forever. 

It  becoming  known  that  he  entertained 
these  views,  he  was  importuned  by  many 
to  write  out  his  opinions,  and  afterwards 
to  go  before  the  public  with  them.  After 
declining  so  to  do  for  a  long  time,  he  at 
length  complied,  by  writing  a  series  of 
articles,  in  1831,  in  the  Vermont  Tele- 
graph. In  1832,  he  sent  forth  a  synopsis 
of  his  views  in  a  pamphlet,  and  subse- 
quently, in  obedience  to  conscientious  con- 
victions of  duty,  he  commenced  as  a  public 
lecturer  on  prophecy. 

He  thus  describes  his  reluctance  to 
appear  in  public,  and  the  occasion  of  his 
first  attempt :  "One  Saturday,  after  break- 
fast, in  the  summer  of  1833,  I  sat  down  at 
my  desk  to  examine  some  point,  and  as  I 
arose  to  go  out  to  work,  it  came  home  to 
me  with  more  force  than  ever,  '  Go  and  tell 
it  to  the  world.'  The  impression  was  so 
sudden,  and  came  with  such  force,  that  I 
settled  down  into  my  chair,  saying,  'I 
can't  go,  Lord.'  '  Why  not  ? '  seemed  to 
be  the  response ;  and  then  all  my  excuses 
came  up,  my  want  of  ability,  etc. ;  but  my 
distress  became  so  great,  I  entered  into  a 
solemn  covenant  with  God,  that,  if  he 
would  open  the  way,  I  would  go  and  per- 
form my  duty  to  the  world.  '  What  do 
you  mean  by  opening  the  way  ? '  seemed 
to  come  to  me.  '  Why,'  said  I,  '  if  I  should 
have  an  invitation  to  speak  publicly  in 
any  place,  I  will  go  and  tell  them  what  I 
find  in  the  Bible  about  the  Lord's  coming.' 
Instantly  all  my  burden  was  gone,  and  I 
rejoiced  that  I  should  not  probably  be  thus 
called  upon,  for  I  had  never  had  such  an 
invitation.  My  trials  were  not  known, 
and  I  had  but  little  expectation  of  being 
invited  to  any  field  of  labor.  In  about 
half  an  hour  from  this  time,  before  I  had 
left  the  room,  a  son  of  Mr.  Guilford,  of 
Dresden,  about  sixteen  miles  from  my  res- 
idence, came  in  and  said  that  his  father 
had  sent  for  me,  and  wished  me  to  go 
home  with  him.  Supposing  that  he  wished 
to  see  me  on  some  business,  I  asked  him 
what  he  wanted.  He  replied,  that  there 
was  to  be  no  preaching  in  their  church  the 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


309 


next  day,  and  his  father  wished  to  have 
me  come  and  talk  to  the  people  on  the 
subject  of  the  Lord's  coming.  I  was 
immediately  angry  with  myself  for  having 
made  the  covenant  I  had;  I  rebelled  at 
once  against  the  Lord,  and  determined 
not  to  go.  I  left  the  boy,  without  giving 
him  any  answer,  and  retired  in  great  dis- 
tress to  a  grove  near  by.  There  I  strug- 
gled with  the  Lord  for  about  an  hour, 
endeavoring  to  release  myself  from  the 
covenant  I  had  made  with  him,  but  could 
get  no  relief.  It  was  impressed  upon  my 


at  the  close  of  a  lecturing  tour  in  the  spring 
of  1843,  Mr.  Miller  remarks  in  his  journal, 
that,  up  to  that  time,  he  had  given  three 
thousand  two  hundred  lectures  ! 

An  interesting  reminiscence  of  Mr. 
Miller's  early  career,  is  related  by  his 
biographer  as  having  occurred  soon  after 
the  publication  of  his  views  in  pamphlet 
form.  As  he  was  passing  down  the 
Hudson  river,  in  a  steam-boat,  e  3ompany 
of  men  standing  near  him  were  conversing 
respecting  the  wonderful  improvements  of 
the  day.  One  of  them  remarked,  that  it 


8YMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATION'S   OF  THE   SECOND  ADVENT  PROPHECIES. 


conscience,  '  Will  you  make  a  covenant 
with  God,  and  break  it  so  soon  ? '  and  the 
exceeding  sinfulness  of  thus  doing  over- 
whelmed me.  I  finally  submitted ;  and 
promised  the  Lord  that  if  he  would  sustain 
me,  I  would  go,  trusting  in  him  to  give 
me  grace  and  ability  to  perform  all  he 
should  require  of  me.  I  returned  to  the 
house,  and  found  the  boy  still  waiting ;  he 
remained  till  after  dinner,  and  I  returned 
with  him  to  Dresden."  Such  was  the  be- 
ginning. And  yet,  ten  years  after,  namely, 


was  impossible  for  things  to  progress,  for 
thirty  years  to  come,  in  the  same  ratio  that 
they  had  done;  "for,"  said  he,  "man  will 
attain  to  something  more  than  human." 
Mr.  Miller  replied  to  him,  that  it  reminded 
him  of  Dan.  12:  4, — 'Many  shall  run  to 
and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  be  increased.' 
A  pause  ensuing,  Mr.  Miller  continued, 
and  observed  that  the  improvements  of  the 
present  day  were  just  what  we  should 
expect  at  this  time,  in  the  fulfillment  of 
Daniel's  prophecy.  He  then  commenced 


310 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


with  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Daniel,  and, 
comparing  the  prophecy  with  the  history, 
showed  its  fulfillment — all  listening  with 
close  attention.  He  then  remarked,  that 
he  had  not  intended  trespassing  so  long 
on  their  patience,  and,  leaving  them, 
walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  boat.  The 
entire  company  followed,  and  wished  to 
hear  more  on  the  subject.  He  then  took 
up  the  second,  seventh,  eighth  and  niath 
chapters  of  Daniel.  His  hearers  wished 
to  know  if  he  had  ever  written  on  the  sub- 
ject. He  told  them  he  had  published  the 
above  pamphlet,  and  distributed  among 
them  what  copies  he  had  with  him.  This 
was  one  of  his  first  audiences,  and  some 
gentlemen  of  high  standing  listened  to  his 
remarks. 

In  1836,  a  volume  of  Mr.  Miller's  lec- 
tures was  published  and  widely  circulated. 
Early  in  1838,  •*  copy  of  these  lectures  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Rev.  J.  Litch,  a  talented 
minister  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
church,  who  soon  after  published  a  pam- 
phlet entitled  the  Midnight  Cry,  proclaim- 
ing the  second  coming  of  Christ  about  the 
year  1843.  He  also  commenced  preaching 
the  same  doctrine,  with  great  success,  and 
published  several  works  of  marked  ability. 
Another  prominent  receiver  of  the  doctrine 
was  Rev.  J.  V.  Himes,  an  accomplished 
preacher  of  the  Christian  Connection,  and 
whose  writings  on  the  newly  promulgated 
views  evinced  much  power  of  reasoning 
and  scholarly  research. 

The  volume  of  lectures  by  Mr.  Miller 
had  a  large  circulation,  as  did  also  the 
publication  called  the  Signs  of  the  Times. 
In  October,  1840,  the  first  general  confer- 
ence of  Second  Advent  believers  was  held 
in  Chardon  street  chapel,  Boston.  During 
the  winter  of  1841 — 1842,  conferences 
were  numerous  throughout  New  England, 
and,  in  1842,  the  standard  was  raised  in 
the  city  of  New  York,  by  a  series  of  meet- 
ings in  Apollo  hall,  Broadway,  held  by 
Messrs.  Miller  and  Himes.  During  the 
summer  of  that  year,  public  excitement 
greatly  increased,  and  multitudes  of  preach- 
ers and  speakers  were  in  the  field.  Finally, 
a  large  tent  was  constructed,  capable  of 


holding  four  thousand  persons,  in  which 
meetings  were  held  at  Concord,  Albany, 
Springfield,  Newark,  and  other  places. 
The  work  spread  with  a  power  unparal- 
leled in  the  history  of  religious  move- 
ments ;  and  this,  notwithstanding  the  ridi- 
cule and  other  weapons  of  opposition 
wielded  against  it  by  almost  all  the  lead- 
ing religious  and  secular  journalists  in  the 
principal  cities,  whose  influence  was  very 
great.  Perhaps  the  simple  secret  of  Mr. 
Miller's  wonderful  success,  was  his  bring- 
ing prominently  forward  a  somewhat  neg- 
lected but  vividly  important  truth. 

The  number  of  believers  had  now 
reached  scores  of  thousands.  The  basis  of 
their  expectation  relative  to  the  speedy 
dissolution  of  the  world  was,  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  results  of  chronological  research, 
it  appeared  that  the  captivity  of  Manasseh, 
the  commencement  of  the  "  seven  times," 
or  2520  years  of  Leviticus  xxvi.,  was 
B.  C.  677,  also  the  captivity  of  Jehoia- 
kim,  the  commencement  of  the  Great 
Jubilee,  or  2450  years,  was  B.  C.  607; 
also  the  decree  to  rebuild  Jerusalem  in  the 
seventh  of  Artaxerxes,  the  commencement 
of  the  seventy  weeks  and  2300  days  of 
Daniel  vin.  and  ix.,  was  given  B.  C. 
457 ;  and  also  the  taking  away  of  pagan- 
ism in  Rome,  the  commencement  of  the 
1335  days  of  Daniel  xn.  Reckoning  from 
these  several  dates,  it  was  believed  that  the 
respective  periods  could  extend  only  to 
about  the  Jewish  year  1843. 

Thus,  all  the  calculations  of  prophetic 
time  were  understood  by  the  Second  Ad- 
ventists  to  end  in  1843.  But  what  par- 
ticular time,  in  that  year,  was  a  matter  of 
uncertainty.  Some  supposed  one  day  or 
season,  some  another.  It  was  Mr.  Miller's 
opinion,  that  the  seventy  weeks  ended 
with  the  crucifixion,  in  A.  D.  33 ;  conse- 
quently, that  the  whole  time  would  end 
with  its  anniversary,  in  1843.  Still,  he  was 
not  satisfied  as  to  the  exactness  of  the  cal- 
culation, and  hence,  from  the  outset, 
expressed  himself,  "about  1843;"  indeed, 
in  the  year  1839,  he  remarked  that  he  was 
not  positive  that  the  event  would  trans- 
pire in  the  spring  of  1843 — he  should 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


311 


claim  the  whole  of  the  Jewish  year,  until 
March  21,  1844. 

But,  in  opposition  to  the  views  thus  held 
by  Mr.  Miller  and  his  able  co-laborers, 
Himes,  Litch,  and  other  commentators,  a 
host  of  learned  writers  appeared,  including 
representatives  of  all  the  Christian  denom- 
inations— though  even  among  these,  there 
was  no  slight  diversity  of  opinion  as  to  the 
scope  and  meaning  of  the  prophecies,  and, 
in  respect  to  the  correctness  of  some  of  the 
points  held  by  Mr.  Miller,  no  objections 
were  advanced.  The  usual  strain  of  argu- 
ment used  by  the  opponents  of  Mr.  Mil- 
ler's rendering  of  the  scriptures  was  as 
follows : — That  the  Lord  cannot  come  until 
after  the  millennium,  during  which  the 
whole  world  is  to  be  righteous,  and  the 
lion  eat  straw  like  the  ox,  etc. ;  that  the 
Jews  must  be  brought  in,  and  restored  to 
Palestine,  before  that  day  comes ;  that  it 
is  to  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night — sudden, 
unanticipated,  unlocked  for ;  that  the 
world  and  the  human  race  being  as  yet  in 
their  infancy,  so  far  as  moral  and  material 
development  is  concerned,  it  could  not  be 
reasonably  expected  that  the  Lord  would 
come  to  destroy  the  world. 

But  the  great  opposing  argument 
brought  to  bear  against  the  new  views, 
was,  that  the  vision  in  the  eighth  chapter 
of  Daniel,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
coming  of  Christ,  or  setting  up  of  God's 
everlasting  kingdom ;  that  Antiochus 
Epiphanes,  a  Syrian  king,  is  the  hero 
of  Daniel's  vision,  in  the  eighth  chapter, 
and  that  the  2300  days  are  but  half  days, 
amounting  to  1150  literal  days,  all  of 
which  were  literally  fulfilled  by  Antiochus, 
— his  persecution  of  the  Jews,  and  dese- 
cration of  the  temple,  about  one  hundred 
and  sixty  years  B.  C. 

The  earliest  date  fixed  upon  by  any  of 
the  Adventists  as  a  probable  time  for  the 
Lord's  coming  (as  stated  by  Mr.  Litch, 
one  of  the  ablest  and  most  reliable  author- 
ities), was  February  tenth,  forty-five  years 
from  the  time  the  French  army  took  Rome, 
in  1798.  The  next  point,  and  the  one 
which  was  thought  the  more  probable,  was 
February  fifteenth,  the  anniversary  of  the 


abolition  of  the  papal  government,  and  the 
erection  of  the  Roman  Republic.  Viewing 
this  to  be  the  termination  of  the  1290 
days  of  Daniel  xn.  11,  they  believed 
forty-five  years  more  would  terminate  the 
1335  days  of  verse  12.  Accordingly, 
expectation  with  many  was  on  tiptoe,  fully 
believing  that  the  great  day  of  the  Lord 
would  then  break  upon  the  world.  But 
both  those  periods  came  and  passed  with 
no  unusual  occurrence.  At  this  result, 
much  thoughtless  ridicule  was  indulged  in 
by  some  of  the  newspaper  press,  and  exag- 
gerated accounts  given  of  the  believers  in 
the  doctrine  waiting  in  their  white  ascen- 
sion robes  to  be  caught  up  in  the  air,  or 
going  to  the  tops  of  the  houses,  or  into  the 
grave-yards,  to  watch.  Very  few,  however, 
were  so  much  shaken  by  their  disappoint- 
ment in  the  passing  of  the  time,  as  to  go 
back  and  give  up  the  doctrine.  Their 
confidence,  as  well  as  their  religious  sin- 
cerity, was  beyond  suspicion. 

The  fifteenth  of  February  passed,  the 
next  epoch  which  presented  itself  as  a 
leading  point  of  time,  was  the  Passover, 
the  season  of  the  year  when  the  crucifix- 
ion took  place.  This  was  looked  upon  by 
many  as  being  a  strongly  marked  era,  on 
account  of  its  being  the  occasion  when 
God  delivered  his  people  from  Egypt,  four 
hundred  and  thirty  years  from  Abraham's 
sojourn  —  and,  because  on  that  feast  the 
crucifixion  took  place.  This  latter  event, 
according  to  the  belief  of  many,  ended  the 
seventy  weeks  of  Daniel  ix.  24.  Hence, 
they  argued,  the  2300  days  would  termi- 
nate when  the  same  feast  arrived  in  1843, 
and  the  Savior  would  come.  The  four- 
teenth of  April,  therefore,  was  a  point  of 
time  anticipated  with  the  deepest  solici- 
tude by  many.  They  had  the  fullest  con- 
fidence that  it  would  not  pass  without 
bringing  the  expected  crisis.  Others, 
again,  looked  forward  to  the  season  of  the 
Ascension,  or  Feast  of  Pentecost,  as  being 
the  most  likely  time  for  the  advent.  But 
disappointment  attended  these,  as  it  had 
previous,  expectations.  Still,  the  zeal  of 
the  disciples  did  not  fail  them  ;  and,  at  the 
east,  west,  and  south,  the  same  enthusiasm 


312 


EXPECTED  DESTBUCTION  OF  THE  WOPtLD. 


was  manifested  by  the  promulgators  of  the 
doctrine  that  "  the  end  of  all  things  is  at 
hand." 

As  already  stated,  Mr.  Miller's  expecta- 
tions as  to  the  time  of  the  fulfillment  of 
the  prophetic  periods,  extended  to  the 
close  of  the  Jewish  year  1843,  which  would 
be  March  twenty-first,  1844 ;  and,  on  fur- 
ther reflection,  gave  considerable  weight 
to  the  consideration  that  the  tenth  day  of  • 
the  seventh  month  of  the  current  Jewish 
year,  which,  following  the  reckoning  of  the 
Caraite  Jews,  fell  on  the  twenty-second  of 
October,  was  the  probable  termination  of 
several  prophetic  periods,  and,  therefore, 
would  very  likely  usher  in  the  great  and 
last  day.  Thus  it  was,  that,  on  the  sixth 
of  October,  he  wrote :  "  If  Christ  does  not 
come  within  twenty  or  twenty-jive  days,  I 
shall  feel  twice  the  disappointment  I  did 
in  the  spring."  With  great  unanimity,  as 
well  as  honestly  and  heartily,  was  this 
view  accepted  by  his  followers.  Indeed, 
the  feeling  was  everywhere  intense,  among 
them.  For  some  days  preceding  the  time 
designated,  their  secular  business  was,  for 
the  most  part,  suspended ;  and  those  who 
looked  for  the  advent,  gave  themselves  to 
the  work  of  preparation  for  that  event,  as 
they  would  for  death,  were  they  on  a  bed 
of  sickness. 

In  regard  to  the  extravagances  charac- 
terizing this  movement,  the  published 
accounts  are  declared  by  the  friends  of 
Mr.  Miller  to  have  been,  for  the  most  part, 
gross  misstatements,  and  that  hundreds  of 
reports  relating  to  excesses,  had  no  found- 
ation in  fact.  Even  so  generally  fair  and 
discriminating  a  writer  as  Sir  Charles 
Lyell,  who  was  traveling  in  America 
while  the  advent  excitement  was  at  its 
height,  states  that  several  houses  were 
pointed  out  to  him,  between  Plymouth 
(Massachusetts)  and  Boston,  the  owners 
of  which  had  been  reduced  from  ease  to 
poverty  by  their  credulity,  having  sold 
their  all  toward  building  the  Tabernacle, 
in  which  they  were  to  pray  incessantly  for 
six  weeks  previous  to  their  ascension. 
Among  other  stories,  also,  industriously 
circulated,  was  that  of  a  young  girl  who, 


having  no  money,  was  induced  to  sell  her 
necklace,  which  had  been  presented  her 
by  her  betrothed.  The  jeweler,  seeing 
that  she  was  much  affected  at  parting  with 
her  treasure,  and  discovering  the  circum- 
stances and  object  of  the  sale,  showed  her 
some  silver  forks  and  spoons,  on  which  he 
was  about  to  engrave  the  initials  of  the 
very  minister  whose  dupe  she  was,  and 
those  of  the  lady  he  was  about  to  marry  on 
a  fixed  day  after  the  fated  twenty-second 
of  October. 

While  traveling  in  New  Hampshire, 
Lyell  states  that  he  was  told  by  a  farmer 
in  one  of  the  country  villages,  that,  in  the 
course  of  the  preceding  autumn,  many  of 
his  neighbors  would  neither  reap  their 
harvest  of  corn  and  potatoes,  nor  let  others 
take  in  the  crop,  saying  it  was  tempting 
Providence  to  store  up  grain  for  a  season 
that  could  never  arrive,  the  great  catas- 
trophe being  so  near  at  hand.  He  adds, 
that  in  several  townships  in  this  and  the 
adjoining  states,  the  local  officers,  or  se- 
lectmen, interfered,  harvesting  the  crops 
at  the  public  expense,  and  requiring  the 
owners,  after  the  twenty-third  of  October, 
to  repay  them  for  the  outlay.  So  bitter 
was  the  opposition  in  some  places,  that 
offensive  missiles  were  thrown  at  the  pub- 
lic speakers,  and  their  names  coupled  with 
those  of  such  impostors  as  Matthias,  Gal- 
laway,  Folger,  Orr,  etc. 

That  irregularities  of  one  kind  and  an- 
other attended  a  religious  movement  so 
wide-spread,  intense  and  enthusiastic,  as 
this,  is  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  but  it  is* 
doubtless  true  that  the  majority  of  the 
incidents  thus  circulated  were  the  easy 
inventions  of  opponents.  The  most  nota- 
able  incident  was  that  which  occurred  in 
Philadelphia.  In  opposition  to  the  earnest 
expostulations  of  Mr.  Litch  and  other 
judicious  and  influential  persons,  a  com- 
pany of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  re- 
sponding to  the  pretended  "  vision  "  of  one 
Georgas,  on  the  twenty-first  of  October 
went  out  on  the  Darby  street  road,  about 
four  miles  from  Market  street  bridge,  and 
encamped  in  a  field  under  two  large  tents, 
provided  with  all  needed  comforts.  The 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


313 


next  morning,  their  faith  in  the  vision 
having  failed,  all  but  about  a  dozen  re- 
turned to  the  city ;  a  few  days  later,  the 
others  returned.  This  act  met  the  em- 
phatic disapproval  of  Mr.  Miller,  and  of 
the  Adventists  generally. 

This  day,  too, — the  only  specific  day 
which  was  regarded  by  the  more  intelligent 
Adventists  with  any  positiveness, — also 
passed,  peaceful  and  quiet,  as  other  days ; 
as,  likewise,  did  the  time  in  September, 
1847,  which  some  fixed  upon,  on  the  ground 
that  chronologers  differed  three  or  four 
years  in  the  dates  of  this  world's  history. 
In  reviewing  these  facts  and  results  ol  the 
past,  Mr.  Miller  wrote :  "  Were  I  to  live 
my  life  over  again,  with  the  same  evidence 
that  I  then  had,  to  be  honest  with  God 
and  man  I  should  have  to  do  as  I  have 
done.  I  confess  my  error,  and  acknowl- 
edge my  disappointment;  yet  I  still  be- 
lieve that  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  near, 
even  at  the  door." 

The  speedy  coming  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
approaching  end  of  all  things,  being  so  fre- 
quently and  explicitly  declared  in  scripture, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  there  should  continue 
to  be  found  a  body  of  believers  making 
that  important  truth,  and  the  duties  grow- 
ing out  of  it,  a  primary  point  in  their 
religion.  Though  less  numerous  than 
formerly,  they  are  still  to  be  found  in  con- 
siderable numbers,  with  many  earnest 
preachers ;  their  chief  organ  has  been  the 
Advent  Herald,  published  in  Boston,  and 
conducted  with  much  decorum  and  ability. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  man  of  Mr. 
Miller's  strong  and  ardent  temperament, 
should  live  and  die  in  the  same  belief 
which  he  had  promulgated  with- such  evi- 
dent sincerity ;  for,  while  acknowledging, 
as  events  proved,  the  want  of  accuracy  in 
his  chronological  calculations — he  still 
claimed,  to  the  end  of  his  days,  that  the 
nature  and  nearness  of  the  crisis  were  sus- 
tained by  scriptural  evidence.  He  died 
a  peaceful  and  happy  death,  at  the  age 
of  sixty-eight,  in  the  year  1849,  and  an 
admirably  fair  and  well-written  biography 
of  him,  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Himes,  ap- 
peared soon  after. 


As  a  man,  Mr.  Miller  is  described  as 
strictly  temperate  in  all  his  habits, 
devoted  in  his  family  and  social  attach- 
ments, and  proverbial  for  his  integrity. 
He  was  naturally  very  amiable  in  his  tem- 
perament, affable  and  attentive  to  all, — a 
kind-heartedness,  simplicity,  and  power, 
peculiarly  original,  characterizing  his 
manner.  He  was  of  about  medium  stature, 
a  little  corpulent;  hair,  a  light  glossy 
brown;  countenance  full  and  round,  with 
a  peculiar  depth  of  expression  in  his  blue 
eye,  of  shrewdness  and  love. 


As  a  preacher,  Mr.  Miller  was  generally 
spoken  of  as  convincing  his  hearers  of  his 
sincerity,  and  instructing  them  by  his 
reasoning  and  information.  All  acknowl- 
edge that  his  lectures  were  replete  with 
useful  and  interesting  matter,  showing  a 
knowledge  of  scripture  very  extensive  and 
minute — that  of  the  prophecies,  especially, 
being  surprisingly  familiar;  and  his  ap- 
plication of  the  great  prophecies  to  the 
great  events  which  have  taken  place  in  the 
moral  and  natural  world,  was,  to  say  the 
least,  ingenious  and  plausible.  There  was 
nothing  very  peculiar  in  his  manner;  his 
gestures  were  easy  and  expressive;  his 
style  decorous,  simple,  natural,  and  forci- 
ble. He  was  always  self-possessed  and 
ready;  distinct  in  his  utterance,  and  fre- 
quently quaint  in  his  observations ;  in  the 
management  of  his  subject,  exhibiting 
much  tact,  holding  frequent  colloquies  with 
the  objector  and  inquirer,  supplying  the 
questions  and  answers  himself  in  a  very 


314 


EXPECTED  DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  WORLD. 


apposite  manner,  and,  although  grave  him- 
self, sometimes  producing  a  smile  upon 
the  faces  of  his  auditors.  Much  blame 
was  cast  upon  Mr.  Miller,  by  some  of  his 
opponents,  for  not  contenting  himself  with 
a  quiet  and  unostentatious  avowal  of  his 
views,  instead  of  traveling  over  the  whole 
country,  and  inaugurating  the  "noisy  and 
boisterous  system  of  camp-meetings"  in 
connection  with  so  solemn  a  theme.  But, 
that  these  camp-meetings  did  not  partake 
of  the  obnoxious  qualities  thus  charged, 
will  appear — from  one  example  at  least, — 
by  the  following  account,  written  by  John 
G.  Whittier,  one  of  the  most  enlightened 
and  impartial  of  observers : — 

On  my  way  eastward  (says  Mr.  Whittier), 
I  spent  an  hour  or  two  at  a  camp-ground  of 
the  Second  Advent  in  East  Kingston  (N. 
H.)  The  spot  was  well  chosen.  A  tall 
growth  of  pine  and  hemlock  threw  its  mel- 
ancholy shadow  over  the  multitude,  who 
were  arranged  on  rough  seats  of  boards  and 
logs.  Several  hundred — perhaps  a  thou- 
sand— people  were  present,  and  more  were 
rapidly  coming.  Drawn  about  in  a  circle, 
forming  a  background  of  snowy  whiteness 
to  the  dark  masses  of  men  and  foliage, 
were  the  white  tents,  and  back  of  them  the 
provision  stalls  and  cook  shops.  When 
I  reached  the  ground,  a  hymn,  the  words 
of  which  I  could  not  distinguish,  was  peal- 
ing through  the  dim  aisles  of  the  forest.  I 
know  nothing  of  music,  having  neither  ear 
nor  taste  for  it — but  I  could  readily  see 
that  it  had  its  effect  upon  the  multitude 
before  me,  kindling  to  higher  intensity 
their  already  excited  enthusiasm.  The 
preachers  were  placed  in  a  rude  pulpit  of 


rough  boards,  carpeted  only  by  the  dead 
forest  leaves,  and  flowers,  andtasseled,  not 
with  silk  and  velvet,  but  with  the  green 
boughs  of  the  somber  hemlocks  around  it. 
One  of  them  followed  the  music  in  an  earn- 
est exhortation  on  the  duty  of  preparing  for 
the  great  event.  Occasionally,  he  was  really 
eloquent,  and  his  description  of  the  last  day 
had  all  the  terrible  distinctness  of  Anellis's 
painting  of  the  '  End  of  the  World.' 

Suspended  from  the  front  of  the  rude 
pulpit  were  two  broad  sheets  of  canvas, 
upon  one  of  which  was  the  figure  of  a 
man, — the  head  of  gold,  the  breast  and 
arms  of  silver,  the  belly  of  brass,  the  legs 
of  iron,  and  feet  of  clay, — the  dream  of 
Nebuchadnezzar !  On  the  other  were 
depicted  the  wonders  of  the  Apocalyptic 
vision — the  beasts — the  dragons — the  scar- 
let woman  seen  by  the  seer  of  Pattnos— - 
oriental  types  and  figures  and  mystic 
symbols  translated  into  staring  Yankee 
realities,  and  exhibited  like  the  beasts  of  a 
traveling  menagerie.  One  horrible  image, 
with  its  hideous  heads  and  scaly  caudal 
extremity,  reminded  me  of  the  tremendous 
line  of  Milton,  who,  in  speaking  of  the  same 
evil  dragon,  describes  him  as  "Swinge- 
ing the  scaly  horrors  of  his  folded  tail." 
To  an  imaginative  mind  the  scene  was 
full  of  novel  interest.  The  white  circle  of 
tents — the  dim  wood  arches — the  upturned, 
earnest  faces — the  loud  voices  of  the 
speakers,  burdened  with  the  awful  sym- 
bolic language  of  the  Bible — the  smoke 
from  the  fires  rising  like  incense  from 
forest  altars, — carried  one  back  to  the  days 
of  primitive  worship,  when  "The  groves 
were  God's  first  temples." 


XXXIX. 

AWFUL    EXPLOSION    OF    COMMODORE    STOCKTON'S 

GREAT    GUN,    THE    "PEACEMAKER,"    ON    BOARD 

THE  U.   S.   STEAMSHIP    PRINCETON.— 1844. 


The  Secretaries  of  State  and  of  the  Navy,  and  Other  Eminent  Persons,  Instantly  Killed. — Miraculous 
Escape  of  the  President. — Sudden  Transition  from  the  Height  of  Human  Enjoyment  to  the  Extreme 
of  Woe. — Stockton's  High  Enthusiasm. — His  Vast  and  Beautiful  Ship. — Her  Model  and  Armament. 
— Styled  the  Pride  of  the  Navy. — Invitations  for  a  Grand  Gala  Day. — President  Tyler  Attends. — 
Countless  Dignitaries  on  Board. — Array  of  Female  Beauty. — Music,  Toasts,  Wit  and  Wine. — Firing 
of  the  Monster  Gun. — Its  Perfect  Success. — "  One  More  Shot ! "  by  Request. — A  Stunning  and  Mur- 
derous Blast. — Bursting  of  the  Gun. — Death  all  Around. — Frightful  Shrieks  and  Groans. — Scattering 
of  Mangled  Remains. — Agony  of  Woman's  Heart. — Standing  Place  of  the  President. — Absent  Just 
One  Moment. — The  Dead  in  Union  Flags. — Funeral  at  the  White  House. 


"  My  tongue  would  fail  me  to  exprets,  and  my  pen  to  portray,  the  agonizing  heart-throes— the  mingled  wailing!  and  frenzy— of  that 
awful  hour."— PKKSIDEHT  TTLBB. 


|  ARELY  is  there  found  in  the  pages  of  a  hun- 
dred years'  history,  the  record  of  a 
more  awful  catastrophe — shocking, 
indeed,  in  all  its  circumstances, 
concomitants,  and  results — than 
that  which  occurred  on  board  the 
ship  Princeton,  Commodore  Stock- 
ton, on  the  afternoon  of  February 
twenty-eighth,  1844,  whilst  under 
way,  on  the  river  Potomac,  some 
fifteen  miles  below  Washington. 
This  war  steamer  had  just  been 
constructed  in  the  city  of  Phila- 
delphia, according  to  improved  plans  enthusiastically  advocated  by  Captain  Stockton, 
who  had  also  superintended  the  casting  of  the  guns — on  a  new  principle  and  of  prodig- 
ious size  and  power — constituting  the  steamship's  armament.  It  was  principally  to 
exhibit  the  superiority  of  these  new  and  formidable  weapons  of  war,  in  the  preparation 
of  which  Stockton  had  so  long  been  engaged,  and  of  the  perfection  of  which  he  had,  by 
repeated  tests  and  experiments,  thoroughly  satisfied  himself,  that  he  issued  cards  of 
invitation  to  a  large  and  brilliant  company,  of  both  sexes,  to  visit  the  magnificent  ship 
and  go  on  an  excursion  down  the  river.  He  had  on  successive  days,  previously,  extended 
this  courtesy  to  various  congressional  committees  and  other  officials,  but  this  was  to  be 
the  gala  day  on  the  decks  of  the  most  stupendous  and  beautiful  ship  ever  beheld  on  the 
waters  of  the  Potomac. 


STOCKTON'S  GREAT  otru,  THE  "  PEACEMAKER." 


SIB 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


Little  did  any  one  among  that  gay  and 
splendid  throng  anticipate  a  sudden  trans- 
ition from  the  height  of  human  enjoy- 
ment to  the  extreme  of  wailing,  anguish, 
and  death  ! 

The  day  was  remarkably  fine,  the  sun 
rising  clear  and  bright,  and  Washington 
from  early  in  the  morning  presented  a  gay 
and  busy  scene.  Nearly  all  the  carriages 
were  engaged,  and  freighted  with  the  love- 
liness, beauty  and  grace  of  the  city. 
About  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  Mr. 
Tyler,  the  president  of  the  United  States, 
as  chief  guest,  Mrs.  Robert  Tyler,  Miss 
Cjoper,  Mr.  John  Tyler,  Jr., — all  from  the 


executive  mansion, — with  a  large  number 
of  officers  in  glittering  uniforms,  all  the 
members  of  the  cabinet  except  Mr.  Spen- 
cer, many  other  high  functionaries  of  state, 
senators  and  representatives,  quite  a  num- 
ber of  attaches  and  secretaries  of  lega- 
tion, General  Allmonte,  minister  from 
Mexico  (Sir  Richard  Packenham  had  been 
invited,  but  declined,)  and  others,  to  the 
number  of  some  four  hundred,  were  assem- 
bled on  the  deck  of  one  of  the  steamers 
plying  between  Washington  and  Alexan- 
dria, fast  bearing  down  for  the  latter  place. 
Opposite  the  navy  yard,  a  boat  load  of 
musicians  were  taken  on  board,  who,  as 
the  company  approached  Alexandria,  and 
the  Princeton  hove  in  sight,  struck  up 
'Hail  Columbia,'  while  the  convoy  was 
describing  a  graceful  curve  under  the  bow 


of  the  splendid  war  steamer,  to  view  her 
in  all  her  pride  of  architectural  model, — 
the  flags  of  every  nation  streaming  in  the 
brightness  of  the  meridian  sun  from  every 
mast,  and  her  yards  manned  to  return  the 
cheers  that  were  uttered  by  the  happy 
guests  as  they  neared  her  side. 

They  now  approached  the  Princeton  on 
her  larboard  side,  and  came  quite  close  to 
her.  A  bridge  was  soon  made  from  the 
hurricane  deck  to  the  great  steamship,  and 
the  ladies  and  gentlemen  received  by  the 
officers  on  deck,  and  conducted  to  Captain 
Stockton,  who  was  in  full  uniform.  The 
band  now  struck  up  the  '  Star  Spangled 
Banner,'  the  marines  presented  arms,  and 
as  soon  as  the  company  were  on  board,  a 
salute  of  twenty-one  guns  was  fired,  the 
band  still  playing  national  airs;  and  it 
was  quite  amusing  to  see  how  many  ladies 
remained  on  deck  to  witness  the  naval 
maneuvers  and  evolutions,  although  they 
had  been  politely  requested  to  step  down, 
so  as  not  to  be  annoyed  by  the  smell  of  the 
powder,  or  the  noise  of  the  report.  Sump- 
tuous, too,  was  the  banquet  spread  before 
this  gay  and  brilliant  company. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Princeton  hove 
anchor  and  made  sail,  bearing  down  for 
Fort  Washington  and  Mount  Vernon — her 
sailing  qualities  being  admired  by  all. 
Past  Fort  Washington,  where  the  Potomac 
expands,  presenting  sufficient  scope  for 
the  power  of  the  Princeton's  big  guns,  the 
forward  gun  was  shotted  and  fired,  the 
ball  striking  the  water  and  rebounding 
five  or  six  times,  till  the  eye  could  no 
longer  follow  its  progress.  An  eye-witnesa 
of  this  experiment — a  newspaper  corre- 
spondent— states,  that,  in  order  to  observe 
the  effect  of  the  shot,  he  posted  himself  on 
the  nearest  larboard  cannonade  gun,  and, 
by  the  side  of  this,  a  kind  of  scaffolding 
had  been  erected  by  the  sailors,  for  the 
ladies  to  stand  on.  One  or  two  ladies  had 
taken  their  position  there,  and,  close  by, 
stood  Mr.  Secretary  Upshur,  intent  upon 
witnessing  the  whole  scene.  The  corre- 
spondent offered  his  place  to  the  secretary, 
but  the  latter  declined,  saying  he  preferred 
to  stand  where  he  was — the  precise  s»ot 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


317 


where,  an  hour  afterward,  he  was  torn  to 
pieces. 

Captain  Stockton's  great  gun  —  called 
ironically  "the  Peacemaker" — was  now 
again  loaded  with  shot,  and  another  trial 
made  of  its  strength  and  efficiency.  The 
gun  was  pointed  to  leeward,  and  behind  it 
stood  Captain  Stockton  ;  a  little  to  the  left 
of  him,  Mr.  J.  Washington  Tyson,  assist- 
ant postmaster-general.  By  the  side  of 
the  latter,  a  little  behind  him,  stood  Mr. 
Strickland,  of  Philadelphia ;  and  a  little  to 
the  right  of,  but  behind  him,  Colonel 
Benton,  of  Missouri,  who  had  a  lady  at  his 
arm ;  and  Judge  S.  S.  Phelps,  senator 
from  Vermont.  To  the  leeward  of  the  gun 
stood  Judge  Upshur,  the  secretary  of 
state  ;  also  Governor  Gilmer,  the  secretary 
of  the  navy,  who  had  but  a  few  days  previ- 
ously entered  on  the  duties  of  his  office ; 
and,  a  short  distance  behind  them,  the  late 
charge  d'affaires  to  Belgium,  Mr.  Maxey, 
of  Maryland.  By  the  side  of  him  stood 
Hon.  Mr.  Gardiner,  of  New  York,  and 
Commodore  Kennon,  chief  of  one  of  the 
navy  bureaus. 

On  firing  the  gun,  a  murderous  blast 
succeeded  —  the  whole  ship  shook  and 
reeled — and  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  envel- 
oped the  whole  group  on  the  forecastle ; 
but  when  this  blew  away,  an  awful  and 
heart-rending  scene  presented  itself  to  the 
view  of  the  hushed  and  agonizing  specta- 
tors. The  gun  had  burst,  at  a  point  three 
or  four  feet  from  the  breech,  and  scattered 
death  and  desolation  ill  around. 

The  lower  part  of  (lie  gun,  from  the 
trunnions  to  the  bree\,h,  was  blown  off, 
and  one-half  section  of  it  lying  upon  the 
breast  of  the  newspaper  correspondent ;  it 
took  two  sailors  to  remove  it.  Secretary 
Upshur  was  badly  cut  over  the  eye  and  in 
his  legs,  his  clothes  being  literally  torn 
from  his  body ;  he  expired  in  a  very  few 
minutes.  Governor  Gilmer,  of  Virginia, 
— under  whose  official  directions,  as  secre- 
tarjr  of  the  navy,  the  power  of  this  great 
gun  was  tested, — was  found  equally  badly 
injured  ;  he  had  evidently  been  struck  by 
the  section  of  the  gun  before  it  had 
reached  Mr.  Upshur.  Mr.  Sykes,  member 


of  congress  from  New  Jersey,  endeavored 
to  raise  him  from  the  ground,  but  was 
unable.  A  mattress  was  then  procured, 
and  Mr.  Gilmer  placed  on  it ;  but  before 
any  medical  assistance  could  be  procured, 
he  was  not  among  the  living. 

Mr.  Maxey  had  his  arms  and  one  of  his 
legs  cut  off,  the  pieces  of  flesh  hanging  to 
the  mutilated  limbs,  cold  and  bloodless, 
in  a  manner  truly  frightful.  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner, of  New  York  (one  of  whose  daugh- 
ters subsequently  became  the  wife  of  Pres- 
ident Tyler),  and  Commodore  Kennon, 
lingered  about  half  an  hour  ;  but  they  did 
not  seem  for  a  single  moment  to  be  con- 
scious of  their  fate,  and  expired  almost 
without  a  groan.  The  flags  of  the  Union 
were  placed  over  the  dead  bodies,  as  their 
winding-sheets. 

Behind  the  gun,  the  scene,  though  at 
first  equally  distressing,  was  less  alarming. 
Captain  Stockton,  who  was  knocked  down 
and  somewhat  injured,  almost  instantly 
rose  to  his  feet,  and,  mounting  upon  the 
wooden  carriage,  quickly  and  anxiously 
surveyed  the  whole  effect  of  the  calamity. 
All  the  hair  of  his  head  and  face  was 
burnt  off;  and  he  stood  calm  and  undis- 
mayed, but  deeply  conscious,  over  the 
frightful  wreck.  Shrieks  of  woe  were 
heard  from  every  quarter — death  and  deso- 
lation, blood  and  mangled  remains,  were 
all  around.  In  addition  to  the  deaths 
already  mentioned,  about  a  dozen  sailors 
were  badly  wounded ;  one  was  dead,  and, 
behind  him,  Colonel  Benton,  Judge 
Phelps,  and  Mr.  Strickland,  as  if  dead, 
were  extended  on  the  deck.  On  that  side, 
by  a  singular  concatenation  of  circum- 
stances, Mr.  Tyson,  of  Philadelphia,  was 
the  only  person  who  stood  his  ground, 
though  a  piece  of  the  gun,  weighing  about 
two  pounds,  had  passed  through  his  hat, 
about  two  inches  from  his  skull,  and  fallen 
down  by  the  side  of  him.  A  servant  of 
the  president,  a  colored  lad  of  about  fifteen 
years  of  age,  was  amongst  the  slain.  Pres- 
ident Tyler  himself  was  saved  only  by  the 
merest  accident — having  been  temporarily 
called  back  from  where  he  stood,  just  a 
moment  before ! 


318 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER 


Judge  Phelps,  of  Vermont,  had  his  hat 
blown  or  knocked  off,  and  the  buttons  of 
his  coat  torn  off.  Mr.  Strickland,  of  Phil- 
adelphia, immediately  recovered  his  posi- 
tion. Miss  Woodbury  and  Miss  Cooper, 
who,  in  company  of  Captain  Heed,  of  the 
army,  and  Mr.  Welles,  of  Philadelphia, 
had  been  standing  on  a  leeward  gun,  were 
not  hurt ;  but  the  first-named  lady — the 
beautiful  and  accomplished  daughter  of 
Senator  Woodbury,  of  New  Hampshire, — 
had  her  whole  face  sprinkled  with  blood, 
from  one  of  the  unfortunate  killed  or 
wounded.  Judge  Wilkins  was  only  saved 
by  a  rollicking  bit  of  witticism  of  his. 


He  had  taken  his  stand  by  the  side  of  his 
colleague  in  office,  Secretary  Gilmer,  but 
some  remarks  falling  from  the  lips  of  the 
latter,  and  perceiving  that  the  gun  was 
about  to  be  fired,  exclaimed,  suiting  his 
action  to  the  word — 

"  Though  secretary  of  war,  I  don't  like 
this  firing,  and  believe  that  I  shall  run  !  " 

A  most  heart-rending  scene  was  that 
which  transpired  among  some  of  the  lady 
guests.  The  two  daughters  of  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner, of  New  York,  were  on  board,  and 
were  piteously  lamenting  the  death  of 
their  father ;  while  Mrs.  Gilmer,  from 
whom  the  company  had  in  vain  attempted 
to  withhold,  for  a  time,  the  dreadful  news 
of  the  death  of  her  husband,  presented 
truly  a  spectacle  fit  to  be  depicted  by  a 
tragedian.  Her  agony  was  doubtless 
aggravated  by  a  peculiar  incident.  It 


appears  that,  while  President  Tyler  and 
family,  and  a  large  number  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen  in  the  cabin,  were  in  the  act  of 
leaving  the  banquet-table,  to  proceed  to 
the  deck,  the  movement  was  arrested 
for  a  moment,  by  a  gentleman  announcing 
that  one  of  the  ladies  would  give  a  toast, 
and  but  for  which  it  is  probable  most  of 
the  party  would  have  been  exposed  to  the 
deadly  missiles.  Some  of  the  ladies,  how- 
ever, were  upon  deck,  and  near  enough  to 
be  dashed  with  the  blood  and  mangled 
remains  of  the  victims.  One  of  those 
ladies  was  the  wife  of  Secretary  Gilmer, 
and  it  was  at  her  husband's  special  request, 
that  the  gun  on  this  occasion  was  fired, 
in  order  that  he  might  observe  its  quality 
in  some  peculiar  way.  This  gun  was  the 
one  called  the  'Peacemaker;'  the  other, 
of  the  same  size  on  board,  was  called  the 
'Oregon.' 

Mr.  Seaton,  mayor  of  the  city  of  Wash- 
ington, was  one  of  the  company,  having 
been  invited  by  Mr.  Gilmer,  and  would 
have  accompanied  him  to  the  deck  to 
witness  the  firing,  but  for  a  difficulty  in 
finding  his  cloak  and  hat  at  the  moment. 
A  lady,  standing  upon  the  deck  between 
two  gentlemen,  one  of  whom  had  his  hat, 
and  the  other  the  breast  of  his  coat  taken 
off,  escaped  unhurt.  The  secretary  of 
state,  Mr.  Upshur,  left  a  wife  and  daugh- 
ter, to  mourn  his  untimely  death ;  Secre- 
tary Gilmer,  a  wife  and  eight  children — 
the  eldest  but  fifteen.  Commodore  Kennon 
left  a  young  wife,  and  children  by  his  first 
wife.  Mr.  Maxey  also  left  a  wife  and 
children ;  and  Colonel  Gardiner  two  accom- 
plished daughters,  leading  belles  in  the 
society  of  the  metropolis.  The  only  cir- 
cumstance calculated  to  relieve  the  all-per- 
vading distress,  was,  that  of  the  multitude 
of  ladies  who  were  on  board  the  ship,  not 
one  was  materially  injured. 

As  illustrating  the  effect  of  such  a  phe- 
nomenon, upon  those  who  were  near 
enough  to  have  their  sensations  and  emo- 
tions wrought  upon  to  the  highest  degree, 
without  actual  injury  to  their  persons,  the 
experience  of  Senator  Benton — certainly 
one  of  the  strongest-minded  of  men — is  an 


EXPLOSION1  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


319 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  GREAT  GCS  ON  BOARD  THE  UNITED  STATES   STEAMSHIP    PRINCETON. 


interesting  case  in  point.  In  that  sena- 
tor's account  of  the  occurrence,  he  says, 
among  other  things  :  '  Lieutenant  Hunt 
caused  the  gun  to  be  worked,  to  show  the 
ease  and  precision  with  which  her  direc- 
tion could  be  changed,  and  then  pointed 
down  the  river  to  make  the  fire — himself 
and  the  gunners  standing  near  the  breech 
on  the  right.  I  opened  my  mouth  wide  to 
receive  the  concussion  on  the  inside  as  well 
as  on  the  outside  of  the  head  and  ears,  so 
as  to  lessen  the  force  of  the  external 
shock.  I  saw  the  hammer  pulled  back 


— heard  a  tap — saw  a  flash — felt  a  blast  in 
the  face,  and  knew  that  my  hat  was  gone  ; 
and  that  was  the  last  that  I  knew  of  the 
world,  or  of  myself,  for  a  time,  of  which  I 
can  give  any  account.  The  first  that  I 
knew  of  myself,  or  of  anything  afterwards, 
was  rising  up  at  the  breech  of  the  gun, 
seeing  the  gun  itself  split  open,  — two 
seamen,  the  blood  oozing  from  their  ears 
and  nostrils,  rising  and  reeling  near  me — 
Commodore  Stockton,  hat  gone,  and  face 
blackened,  standing  bolt  upright,  staring 
fixedly  upon  the  shattered  gun.  I  had  heard 


320 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


no  noise — no  more  than  the  dead.  I  only 
knew  that  the  gun  had  burst  from  seeing 
its  fragments.  I  had  gone  through  the 
experience  of  a  sudden  death,  as  if  from 
lightning,  which  extinguishes  knowledge 
and  sensation,  and  takes  one  out  of  the 
world  without  thought  or  feeling.  I  think 
I  know  what  it  is  to  die  without  knowing 
it,  and  that  such  a  death  is  nothing  to 
him  that  revives.  The  rapid  and  lucid 
working  of  the  mind  to  the  instant  of 
extinction,  is  the  marvel  that  still  aston- 
ishes me.  I  heard  the  tap — saw  the  flash, 
felt  the  blast — and  knew  nothing  of  the 
explosion.  I  was  cut  off  in  that  inappre- 
ciable point  of  time  which  intervened 
between  the  flash  and  the  fire — between 


the  burning  of  the  powder  in  the  touch- 
hole,  and  the  burning  of  it  in  the  barrel  of 
the  gun.  No  mind  can  seize  that  point  of 
time,  no  thought  can  measure  it ;  yet  to 
me  it  was  distinctly  marked,  divided  life 
from  death — the  life  that  sees,  and  feels, 
and  knows,  from  death  (for  such  it  was  for 
the  time),  which  annihilates  self  and  the 
world.  And  now  is  credible  to  me,  or 
rather  comprehensible,  what  persons  have 
told  me  of  the  rapid  and  clear  working  of 
the  mind  in  sudden  and  dreadful  catastro- 
phes—  as  in  steam-boat  explosions,  and 
being  blown  into  the  air — and  have  the 
events  of  their  lives  pass  in  review  before 
them,  and  even  speculate  upon  the  chances 
of  falling  on  the  deck  and  being  crushed, 


or  falling  on  the  water  and  swimming: 
and  persons  recovered  from  drowning,  and 
running  their  whole  lives  over  in  the  inter- 
val between  losing  hope  and  losing  con- 
sciousness.' This  account,  written  by  Mr. 
Benton,  several  years  after  the  occurrence, 
shows  the  vivid  impression  made  upon  hie 
mind. 

Of  similar  interest  was  the  experience 
of  Judge  Phelps,  senator  from  Vermont, 
who  was  nearer  to  the  gun  than  any  other 
guest,  and  who  had  at  his  side  a  young 
lady,   Miss  Sommerville,  from  Maryland. 
The  judge  was  prostrated,  his  hat  and  the 
lady's  bonnet  disappeared,  her  dress  was 
also  torn,  and  the  judge's  apparel  rent  and 
demolished.     The  lady's  face  was  scorched, 
and  she  stood  like  a  statue, 
unconscious.       'I     took    a 
glance  at  the  scene,'  says 
the    judge,    writing    to    a 
friend,  'caught  her  round 
the  waist,  and  carried  her 
below.    I  witnessed  a  scene 
there  which  I  shall  not  at- 
tempt to  describe — it  was 
one  of  agony,  frenzy  —  the 
shrieks   of    a   hundred  fe- 
males —  wives,    daughters, 
sisters  —  the    beauty,    the 
loveliness  of  the  land.    The 
imploring  appeals  to  know 
the  fate  of  the  nearest  and 
dearest  objects  of  their  af- 
fection can  not  be  forgotten.     '  Sir,'  said 
one,  '  they  will  not  tell  me  about  my  hus- 
band.'    I  knew  her  not,  but  she  was  at  that 
moment  a  widow  —  her  husband  was  blown 
to   atoms !     You  will   hardly  believe  me 
when  I  tell  you  I  was  calm — collected.     It 
was  no  time  for  trepidation.     I  felt  as  if 
introduced  in  the  presence  of  my  Maker. 
The  scene  was  unearthly ;    every  selfish 
feeling  vanished — even  my  own  life  was  of 
no  account.     I  was  taken  to  the  portals  of 
eternity,  and  felt  that   I   was   surveying 
not  the  paltry  interests  of  time  and  sense, 
but  man's  eternal  destiny.     The  first  tear 
which   started  in  my  eye   fell   upon  the 
few  lines  which  conveyed  to  my  beloved 
and  devoted  wife  the  assurance  that  she 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


321 


was  not  a  widow,  nor  her  children  father- 
less.' 

The  first  hours  after  the  appalling  catas- 
trophe were  marked,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, by  high  excitement.  Astonish- 
ment, and  a  feeling  of  dismay,  mingled 
with  intense  and  painful  curiosity,  seized 
upon  the  entire  community.  All  tongues 
were  busy  in  pressing  or  answering  in- 
quiries. Men  rushed  out  of  doors,  crowded 
the  resorts  of  public  intelligence,  gathered 
in  knots  about  the  streets,  and  with  eager 
countenances  turned  to  every  new-comer 
for  further  information. 

The  next  day,  crowds  poured  down  to 
the  wharf  where  the  bodies  were  expected 
to  be  landed,  and,  though  long  disap- 
pointed, continued  to  wait,  hour  after 
hour,  till  at  length  the  minute-guns  from 
below  announced  the  departure  of  the  cof- 
fins from  on  board  the  steamer,  and  the 
commencement  of  their  melancholy  route 
up  to  the  city. 

As  the  boat  which  bore  them  approached 
her  landing-place,  the  surrounding  shores 
were  covered  with  spectators,  while  a  long 
line  of  carriages  stood  in  waiting  to  follow 
in  the  train  which  bore  the  remains  of  the 
dead.  Six  hearses,  in  sad  contiguity,  stood 
side  by  side,  and  received  in  succession 
their  mournful  freight,  as  the  coffins, 
borne  by  seamen  and  followed  each  by  an 
escort  of  naval  officers,  were  brought 
along  through  an  avenue  of  sympathizing 
citizens,  who  opened  to  the  right  and 
left  to  let  them  pass.  Scores  of  carriages 
followed  to  the  presidential  mansion, 
whither  the  dead  were  carried  by  the 
president's  particular  desire,  and  de- 
posited in  the  East  room.  That  vast 
apartment,  so  often  the  scene  of  brilliant 
festivity  —  so  often  echoing  the  strains  of 
joyous  music  and  the  mingled  voices  of  the 
gay  —  was  now  converted,  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  into  a  sepulchral  chamber, 
cold,  silent,  and  dark. 

Saturday  was  fixed  upon  for  the  funeral 
ceremonies,  and  the  city  was  filled  with 
those  who  came  to  witness  the  solemn 
rites  and  pomp  of  the  occasion,  the  bustle 
of  business  being  hushed  at  an  early  hour. 
21 


Before  the  bodies  were  removed  from  the 
executive  mansion,  religious  services  were 
performed  by  Kev.  Messrs.  Hawley, 
Laurie,  and  Butler.  The  funeral  proces- 
sion was  then  formed,  and  presented  an 
imposing  coup  d'ceil.  Generals  Scott  and 
Jones  led  the  splendid  military  escort. 
Among  the  distinguished  pall-bearers 
were  Messrs.  Archer,  Morgan,  Bolton, 
Totten,  Worth,  Gibson,  Aulick,  Shubrick, 
Crane,  Towson,  Kennedy,  Hunt,  Barnard, 
Fish,  Fendall, — all  departments  of  the 
government,  legislative,  executive,  judi- 
cial, military  and  naval,  being  largely 
represented  in  the  vast  and  magnificent 
procession.  With  these  honors,  accom- 
panied by  minute-guns  and  tolling  bells, 
the  bodies  were  borne  to  the  congressional 
burying-ground,  where  the  military  halted, 
and,  forming  in  line  in  front  of  the  gate, 
received  the  hearses  with  martial  salutes 
and  dirges.  Minute-guns  were  fired  from 
the  west  terrace  of  the  capitol  grounds, 
from  the  navy  yard,  and  from  other  points, 
as  the  cavalcade  proceeded  on  its  route ; 
religious  services  were  again  performed, 
on  depositing  the  coifins  in  the  receiving 
vault ;  after  which,  the  military,  as  usual, 
closed  the  solemn  pageant  of  outward 
ceremonial,  by  firing  volleys  in  honor  of 
the  lamented  dead. 

By  direction  of  the  president,  Hon. 
John  Nelson  became,  ad  interim,  secretary 
of  state ;  and  Commodore  Warrington,  in 
like  manner,  secretary  of  the  navy ;  in 
place  of  Messrs.  Upshur  and  Gilmer. 

Concerning  the  great  gun  used  on  this  oc- 
casion, and  of  which  Commodore  Stockton 
was  the  projector,  it  may  be  remarked  that 
it  was  manufactured  in  New  York,  and 
was  far  superior  in  point  of  workmanship 
to  its  companion,  the  '  Oregon,'  which  was 
made'  in  England.  The  'Peacemaker' 
was  placed  in  the  bow  of  the  ship,  on  a 
revolving  carriage,  so  that  it  might  be 
fired  from  either  side.  An  ordinary 
charge  of  powder  for  it  was  thirty  pounds. 
It  carried  a  ball  weighing  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  pounds  ;  and  such  was  the 
precision  with  which  it  could  be  fired,  as 
ascertained  from  actual  experiments,  that 


322 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


an  object  the  size  of  a  hogshead  could  be 
hit  nine  times  in  ten,  at  a  distance  of 
half  a  mile. 

The  gun  being  loaded,  the  first  thing 
was  to  ascertain  the  precise  distance  of 
the  object  to  be  fired  at,  this  being  done 
by  means  of  an  instrument,  constructed 
upon  trigonometrical  principles,  the  scale 
on  which  indicated  the  distance  at  a 
glance.  The  next  thing  was  to  give  the 
gun  the  proper  elevation.  This  was  done 
by  means  of  a  self-acting  lock,  on  an  arm 
of  which  was  a  scale  that  indicated  the 
precise  elevation  necessary  to  reach  a 
given  distance  with  the  ball.  A  spring 
on  top  of  the  lock  was  then  brought  up 
to  the  point  indicated,  the  hammer  pulled 
back,  and,  at  the  very  point  of  time  when, 


by  the  ship's  motion,  the  gun  reached  that 
point,  and  not  before  nor  afterward,  the 
gun  was  of  itself  discharged. 

The  weight  of  the  'Peacemaker'  was 
ten  tons  ;  its  length,  fifteen  feet ;  with  a 
bore  of  twelve  inches.  It  had  been  tested 
with  a  charge  of  forty-nine  pounds  of 
powder ;  had  frequently  been  fired  with 
thirty  ;  it  exploded  with  twenty-five. 

A  few  days  before  the  exhibition  of  the 
ordnance  to  the  presidential  party,  there 
was  an  interesting  trial  of  the  gun, — its 
manner  of  working  and  its  powers — 
attended  with  most  satisfactory  results. 
All  the  preparation  for  firing,  with  the 


exception  simply  of  putting  the  powder 
and  ball  into  the  gun,  was  made  by  Com- 
modore Stockton  personally.  By  means 
of  a  tackle  fixed  to  the  breech,  a  motion 
was  given  to  the  gun  similar  to  that  im- 
parted by  a  heavy  swell,  and  when  it 
reached  the  point  indicated  it  was  dis- 
charged. The  ball  in  this  case  traveled 
about  two  miles  before  it  hit  the  water, 
and  then  bounded  several  times.  The 
Princeton  went  down  the  river  as  far  as 
Mount  Vernon.  In  going  down,  the 
'  Peacemaker '  was  discharged  three  times, 
and,  in  returning,  twice.  On  the  fourth 
fire,  the  ball  struck  on  the  land,  and  its 
effect  was  lost  sight  of  by  those  on  board 
—  so  that  the  party  demanded  another 
fire,  and  respectfully  requested  the  cap- 
tain to  put  in  a  little 
more  powder  this  time. 
Before  firing  for  the  fifth 
and  last  time,  the  captain 
said  he  should  take  the 
sense  of  the  company. 
"  All  those  in  favor  of  an- 
other fire  will  say,  aye." 
The  air  resounded  with 
"aye!"  "All  those  op- 
posed to  another  fire  will 
say,  no."  Not  a  solitary 
voice.  "  The  ayes  have 
it,"  said  the  captain  ;  "  I 
have  the  assent  of  con- 
gress, and  I'll  go  ahead." 
Probably  fifty  pounds  of 
powder  went  into  the 
'Peacemaker'  this  time.  As  before,  the 
gun  was  fired  by  the  captain  himself. 
The  ball  went,  probably,  four  miles  before 
it  struck.  It  bounded  fifteen  times  on  the 
ice,  in  the  course  of  which  it  performed  a 
half  circle. 

Stockton  was  one  of  those  persevering 
and  enlightened  experimenters  who,  like 
James,  Hodman,  Wade,  Dahlgren,  Ames, 
Sawyer,  Parrott,  Hotchkiss,  Gillmore,  are 
an  honor  to  the  cause  of  military  science. 
It  was  in  1839,  while  in  England,  that  his 
attention  was  attracted  to  the  extraordi- 
nary and  important  improvements  there 
introduced  in  the  manufacture  of  large 


EXPLOSION  OF  THE  PEACEMAKER. 


323 


masses  of  wrought  iron  for  objects  requir- 
ing great  strength,  and  he  was  thus  led 
to  consider  the  question  how  far  the  same 
material  might  he  employed  in  the  con- 
struction of  cannon  of  large  caliber. 
Singular  enough,  when  Commodore  Stock- 
ton applied  to  a  manufacturer  to  do  the 
job,  he — the  manufacturer — declared  that 


it  could  not  be  done  ;  and  it  was  not  until 
Commodore  Stockton  had  promised  to  pay 
all  the  expense  of  an  attempt  out  of  his 
own  pocket,  that  the  manufacturer  would 
consent  to  make  a  trial.  In  a  short  time, 
the  manufacturer,  seeing  that  it  was  per- 
fectly practicable,  became  as  great  an  en- 
thusiast in  the  matter  as  Stockton  himself. 


XL. 

DISCOVERT  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER  AS  A  PRE- 
VENTIVE   OF   PAIN.— 1846. 


Performance  of  Surgical  Operations  Involving  the  Intensest  Torture,  During  the  Happy  TJnconsciom- 
ness  of  the  Patient. — Account  of  the  First  Capital  Demonstration  Before  a  Crowded  and  Breathless 
Assembly. — Its  Signal  Success. — Thrill  of  Enthusiastic  Joy — Most  Beneficent  Boon  Ever  Conferred 
by  Science  upon  the  Human  Race. —Instinctive  Dread  of  Pain.— Fruitless  Search  Hitherto  for  a  Pre- 
ventive.—Terror  of  the  Probe  and  Knife.— Heroes  Quail  Before  Them.— Case  of  the  Bluff  Old 
Admiral. — Discovery  of  the  Long-sought  Secret. — Sulphuric  Ether  the  Prize. — Bliss  During  Ampu- 
tation.— Honor  Due  to  America. — A  Whole  World  Elated. — Medical  Men  Exultant. — Curious  Relig- 
ious Objections. — Test  Case  in  Surgery. — Startling  and  Romantic  Interest. — Value  in  Public  Hos- 
pitals.— War-Sufferings  Ameliorated  — Various  Effects  while  Inhaling. — Amusing  and  Extraordinary 
Cases.—"  Thocht  the  Deil  had  a  Grip  o'  her !  "—Odd  Talk  of  an  Innocent  Damsel— Old  Folki 
Wanting  to  Dance. — Awards  to  the  Discoverers. 


11  The  fierce  extremity  of  Buffering  has  been  steeped  In  the  wstere  of  forgetfulness,  and  the  deepest  fturow  in  the  knotted  brow  ftf 
ony  has  been  smoothed  forever."— PROF.  O.  W.  HOLMES. 


UMANITY— even  the  hardiest 
and  bravest  portions  of  it  —  in- 
stinctively shrinks,  with  dread, 
from  the  pain  attendant  upon  a 
deliberate  cutting  of  the  living 
flesh  by  surgical  instruments. 
The  case  is  related  of  a  bluff 
old  English  admiral — one  of  the 
stoutest  hearts  that  ever  beat,  in 
a  service  whose  men  of  every 
grade  are,  to  a  proverb,  daunt- 

RELIEVINO  PAIM  BY  THE  USE  op  ETHER.  less, — who,  in  the  opening  of  his 

distinguished  career,  had  been  engaged  in  cutting  out  an  enemy's  frigate.  From  the 
gun-boat,  he  climbed  up  the  ship's  steep  side,  and,  foremost  of  his  crew,  had  reached  the 
bulwarks,  when,  receiving  a  stunning  blow,  he  fell  into  his  boat  again,  striking  his 
back  with  great  violence.  Years  afterwards,  a  tumor  had  grown  on  the  injured 
part;  and  at  length  the  admiral— gray,  and  bent  in  years — found  it  advisable  tKo,t 
this  growth  should  be  removed.  The  man  that  never  feared  death  in  its  most  ghast'y 
and  appalling  form,  now  shrank  from  the  surgeon's  knife  ;  the  removal,  contemplated  by 
the  man  of  many  battles  with  feeling  almost  akin  to  childish  fear,  was  long  deferred ; 
and  at  length,  half  stupefied  by  opium  though  he  was,  a  most  unsteady  patient  did  he 
prove  during  the  operation. 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER. 


325 


Numberless  instances  have  there  been, 
too,  of  women — mothers — who,  for  their 
kindred,  have  been  at  any  time  ready  to  sac- 
rifice their  lives,by  watching  and  privation, 
in  loathsome  and  tainted  chambers  of  infec- 
tious disease,  but,  when  themselves  be- 
came victims  of  that  which  they  knew  re- 
quired a  surgical  operation,  and  which, 
without  this,  they  were  well  assured  must 
miserably  consume  them  away, —  even 
these  noble  minds,  resolute  in  the  prospect 
of  death,  have  yet  quailed  under  the  fear 
of  surgical  suffering ;  they  have  studiously 
concealed  their  malady  from  their  nearest 
friends,  and  deliberately  preferred  the 
misery  of  a  fatal,  and  unchecked,  and 
gnawing  cancer,  to  the  apprehended  tor- 
ture of  an  operation,  temporary  though  it 
be.  This  feeling  has  been  universal,  in 
all  ages,  among  the  victims  of  keen  physi- 
cal suffering. 

From  time  immemorial,  means  have 
been  sought,  and  with  partial  success,  to 
relieve  and  even  to  destroy  pain,  during 
the  manipulations  of  practical  surgery. 
For  this  purpose,  opium,  Indian  hemp, 
mesmerism,  and  nitrous  oxide  gas  and 
alcohol,  have  been  employed,  and  all  in 
their  turn  abandoned,  except  that  opium 
in  many  cases,  and  mesmerism  in  a  few, 
still  continued  to  be  used  with  imperfect 
success,  and  almost  always  with  the  subse- 
quent disadvantage  of  headache,  feverish- 
ness,  or  other  general  disorder. 

It  ivas  reserved  for  the  simple  inhala- 
tion of  a  certain  gas  — pure  sulphuric 
ether — to  achieve  in  surgery  that  for  which 
surgeons  had  for  centuries  labored,  and 
labored  in  vain  ! 

This  was  in  1846.  A  certain  old  gentle- 
man, however, — as  the  case  is  narrated, — 
was  not  altogether  a  stranger  to  the  com- 
forting effects  of  this  same  anodyne  pro- 
cess, some  forty  years  previously.  He  had 
discovered  that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
lull  him  into  forgetfulness  of  the  pains 
and  disquietude  of  a  bustling  and  check- 
ered life.  He  was  a  man  of  research  in 
his  way ;  curious  in  beds,  baths,  and  pro- 
fessing to  understand  disease  and  its  cure 
better  by  far  than  his  fellows.  But  he 


was  loose  in  principle,  as  well  as  weak  in 
science,  and  no  doubt,  most  deservedly, 
had  many  roughnesses  in  life  which  he 
could  wish  to  rub  away.  His  mode  was 
this :  Obtaining  an  ounce  or  two  of 
ether,  he  leisurely  sniffed  up  its  vapor,  sit- 
ting softly  the  while,  and  manifestly  en- 
joying a  time  of  calmness  and  repose, 
greatly  to  his  liking.  Indeed,  on  being 
interrogated,  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
blandly  answering,  "  soothing,  sir,  sooth- 
ing to  an  immeasurable  degree."  In  this 
oblivion  to  the  disgusting  harassments 
of  life,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  indulging 
many  times  a  day.  He  had  curiously  dis- 
covered that  the  fumes  of  ether  could 
relieve,  temporarily,  from  the  pains  of  a 
mind  ill  at  ease  ;  but  he  was  not  to  know 
that  it  could  still  more  wonderfully 
assuage  the  body's  worst  suffering. 

The  divulgement  of  this  most  beneficent 
boon  to  the  world  since  man's  moral  re- 
demption— by  which  the  most  dreaded  of 
surgical  operations  can  be  performed  dur- 
ing a  happy  unconsciousness  of  the  patient 
— not  merely  with  little  suffering,  but  ab- 
solutely with  none — is  due  to  three  Ameri- 
cans, namely,  Drs.  Morton,  Jackson,  and 
Wells  ;  but  to  which  of  these  is  due  the 
priority  or  chief  merit  of  the  discovery,  is 
a  question  long  and  bitterly  discussed,  and 
still  undecided.  Certainly,  however,  the 
proceedings  of  each  of  these  gentlemen,  in 
connection  with  the  discovery,  show  un- 
doubted scientific  acuteness,  ingenuity, 
zeal  and  perseverance. 

The  enthusiasm  with  which  the  an- 
nouncement of  this  marvelous  discovery 
T7aa  received  may  well  be  described  as 
unbounded.  Wafted  across  the  Atlantic, 
it  was  at  once  hailed  with  rapturous  ex- 
ultation in  England,  and  speedily  adopted 
in  most  of  the  large  hospitals  throughout 
the  kingdom — also,  in  the  vast  hospitals 
of  Paris,  and  in  the  numerous  institutions 
of  like  character  in  Germany,  including 
those  so  celebrated  at  Vienna  and  Berlin. 

Still,  there  were  not  wanting  those  who 
regarded  the  discovery  with  distrust,  and 
some  of  the  public  medical  institutions 
barred  their  doors  against  the  new  alle- 


326 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHEE. 


viating  agent.  Objections  based  on  relig- 
ious grounds  were  urged  against  the  em- 
ployment of  ether.  Pain,  it  was  argued, 
was  the  natural  and  intended  consequence 
of  the  primal  sin,  and  therefore  any  attempt 
to  do  away  with  it  must  be  wrong.  These 
objectors  failed  to  see  that  their  argument, 
if  it  proved  anything,  proved  too  much, 
since  it  held  with  equal  cogency  against 
any  and  every  remedial  agency,  in  all 
cases  whatsoever.  Others  opposed  the 
anaesthetic  on  the  ground  that  pain  is  sal- 
utary, and  that  its  annihilation  would  be 


this,  it  was  alleged  that  the  new  agent 
might  be  used  for  infamous  purposes.  "  A 
fatal  habit,"  it  was  said,  "  had  sprung  up 
of  using  ether,  like  opium,  for  purposes  of 
exhilaration,  to  all  intents  intoxication. 
A  burglar  forced  his  way  into  a  mansion 
when  all  its  occupants  were  in  profound 
slumber,  and,  applying  ether  to  them,  he 
had  the  house  all  to  himself."  Frequent 
accidents,  moreover,  resulted  from  the  use 
of  impure  ether  by  unskillful  hands,  so  fre- 
quent, indeed,  that  prosecution  was  threat- 
ened for  administering  it  at  all. 


HORACE  WE  US 


THE  THREE  CLAIMANTS  OF  THE  DISCOVEBY  OF  PAINLESS  SUBGEHY,  BY  ETKEB. 


hazardous  to  the  patient.  And  an  emi- 
nent physiologist  expressed  the  doubt 
whether  there  were  a  true  advantage  in 
•uppressing  pain.  "  It  is  a  trivial  mat- 
ter," said  this  stoic,  "  to  suffer,  and  a  dis- 
covery whose  object  is  the  prevention  of 
pain  is  of  slight  interest." 

Then,  too,  letters  came  pouring  in  upon 
the  discoverer  from  all  over  the  civilized 
world,  upbraiding  him  with  having  an- 
nounced the  claims  of  a  humbug.  He 
also  received  constant  visits  from  profes- 
sional gentlemen,  who  questioned  the  ac- 
curacy of  the  experiments.  Worse  than 


But  the  domain  of  the  grim  demon, 
Pain,  having  once  been  successfully  in- 
vaded, humanity  and  science  were  ill-dis- 
posed to  yield  the  vantage  ground.  One 
of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  surgery 
in  America,  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes,  said: 
"  The  knife  is  searching  for  disease — the 
pulleys  are  dragging  back  dislocated 
limbs — nature  herself  is  working  out  the 
primal  curse,  which  doomed  the  tenderest 
of  her  creatures  to  the  sharpest  of  her 
trials ;  but  the  fierce  extremity  of  her 
suffering  has  been  steeped  in  the  waters 
of  forgetfulness,  and  the  deepest  furrow 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER. 


327 


in  the  knotted  brow  of  agony  has  been 
smoothed  forever."  So,  too,  that  world- 
renowned  surgeon  and  anatomist,  Dr. 
John  C.  Warren, — grave,  venerable,  and 
dispassionate, — exclaimed : 

"  Who  could  have  imagined,  that  draw- 
ing the  knife  over  the  delicate  skin  of  the 
face  might  produce  a  sensation  of  un- 
mixed delight! — that  the  turning  and 
tivisting  of  instruments  in  the  most  sensi- 
tive bladder  might  be  accompanied  by  a 
beautiful  dream  !  " 

It  was  natural  enough,  certainly,  that 
benevolence  should  prompt  the  humane 
surgeon  to  such  utterances  of  congratula- 
tion, for  it  supplied  to  him  a  desideratum, 
long  sought,  for  the  relief  of  the  excrucia- 
ting pain  they  were  necessarily  obliged  to 
inflict  in  the  practice  of  their  profession. 
For  screaming,  and  struggles,  and  intense 
suffering  under  the  surgeon's  knife,  ether- 
ization substituted  complete  exemption 
from  pain,  associated  in  some  with  the 
quietude,  mental  and  corporeal,  of  deep 
sleep;  in  others,  with  pleasing  dreams, 
imaginary  busy  scenes,  and  sweet  music  ; 
and  in  others,  with  a  perfect  consciousness 
of  surrounding  objects  and  events.  The 
obstetrician  finds  in  it  the  means  of  alle- 
viating that  distress  with  which  woman 
has  always  been  afflicted,  when  in  the 
act  of  becoming  a  mother.  To  the  physi- 
cian it  affords  one  of  the  most  useful,  as 
it  is  one  of  his  most  prompt,  remedies. 
He,  before,  had  no  reliable  means  of  re- 
lieving the  spasms  of  tetanus ;  he  not 
unfrequently  failed  to  procure  sleep,  in  ( 
delirium  tremens,  when  the  question  was 
one  of  sleep  or  death ;  his  before  pallia- 
tive remedy,  opium,  for  the  pain  of  colic, 
too  often  purchased  temporary  relief  at  the 
expense  of  an  aggravation  of  the  cause  of 
the  disease,  and  of  increased  difficulties  in 
its  cure ;  and  he  occasionally  witnessed 
the  breaking  up  of  the  system  of  a  neu- 
ralgic patient,  more  as  a  consequence  of 
repeated  large  doses  of  opium,  than  of  the 
disease  itself. 

Heretofore,  also,  the  shock  of  all  serious 
operations  had  been  formidable.  The 
patient,  however  resigned  and  courageous, 


was  deeply  impressed  in  system ;  the 
pulse  became  feeble,  the  surface  cold  and 
pale,  the  eye  dim,  respiration  troubled, 
and  the  whole  powers  of  life  brought  low. 
With  the  use  of  ether,  this  is  otherwise. 
Parturition  may  take  place,  thighs  may  be 
amputated,  stones  extracted,  tumors  re- 
moved, dentistry  in  all  its  branches  per- 
formed ;  the  chief  deviations  from  the  nor- 
mal characters  of  health  being,  in  all  these 
cases,  such  as  are  known  to  be  the  effects  of 
ether — and,  accordingly,  both  manageable 
and  transient.  In  the  army,  it  has  been 
found  of  incalculable  service,  in  cases  re- 
quiring the  use  of  the  probe  and  and  knife, 
— the  sadly  ample  opportunity  in  this  field 
during  the  war  in  the  Crimea,  in  Mexico, 
and  on  the  battle-grounds  of  the  South, 
adding  fresh  triumphs  to  the  discovery. 

It  will  be  interesting  to  give,  at  this 
point,  an  account  of  the  first  surgical 
operation  performed  under  the  influence 
of  ether,  the  result  of  which  so  fully  de- 
monstrated this  glorious  truth  of  science. 
It  occurred  at  the  Massachusetts  General 
Hospital,  the  operator  being  Dr.  Hayward. 

In  his  own  narration  of  the  circum- 
stances of  this  deeply  interesting  and  most 
important  occasion,  Dr.  Hayward  says :  "  It 
was  my  fortune  to  perform  the  first  capital 
operation  on  a  patient  rendered  insensible 
by  the  inhalation  of  sulphuric  ether.  It 
rarely  falls  to  the  lot  of  a  professional 
man  to  be  the  witness  of  a  scene  of  more 
intense  interest.  The  operating-room  was 
crowded ;  many  were  obliged  to  stand. 
Besides  the  class  of  students  in  attend- 
ance on  the  lectures,  numbering  more  than 
one  hundred,  and  many  of  the  principal 
physicians  and  surgeons  of  the  city  and 
neighborhood,  there  were  present  several 
clergymen,  lawyers,  and  other  individuals, 
from  the  various  callings  of  life.  When 
I  entered  the  theater,  before  the  patient 
was  brought  in,  I  found  it,  to  my  surprise, 
filled  in  every  part,  except  the  floor  on 
which  the  table  stood,  with  persons  on 
whose  countenances  was  depicted  the  al- 
most painful  anxiety  with  which  they 
awaited  the  result  of  the  experiment  they 
were  about  to  witness.  I  simply  told  them 


328 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER. 


that  I  had  decided,  with  the  advice  of  my 
colleagues,  to  allow  the  patient  on  whom  I 
was  to  operate,  to  inhale  an  article  which 
was  said  to  have  the  power  of  annulling 
pain.  The  patient  was  then  brought  in. 
She  was  a  delicate  looking  girl  of  about 
twenty  years  of  age,  who  had  suffered  for 
a  long  time  from  a  scrofulous  disease  of 
the  knee-joint.  It  had  at  length  sup- 
purated ;  there  were  extensive  opening* 
into  the  cavity  of  the  joint;  the  cartilages 
were  ulcerated,  and  partly  absorbed  ;  the 
bones  carious,  and  symptoms  of  hectic 
fever  had  already  made  their  appearance. 
As  soon  as  she  was  well  arranged  on  the 
table  I  told  her  that  I  should  let  her 
breathe  something  which  I  hoped  would 
prevent  her  from  suffering  much  from  the 
operation,  and  that  she  need  not  be  afraid 
of  breathing  it  freely."  The  critical 
nature  of  this  case  can  easily  be  appre- 
ciated, even  by  the  unprofessional  mind, 
and  the  result  is  fraught  with  deep  and 
romantic  interest. 

It  being  desirable  that  the  amputation 
should  be  performed  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
Dr.  Hayward  decided  to  accomplish  it 
by  means  of  the  flap  operation.  One  per- 
son was  to  compress  the  artery,  another  to 
withdraw  the  flaps,  a  third  to  hand  the  in- 
struments, and  a  fourth  to  watch  the  pulse. 
Dr.  Hayward  grasped  the  patient's  limb 
with  his  left  hand,  and  held  the  amputat- 
ing knife  behind  him  in  his  right,  care- 
fully concealed  from  her  view.  The 
mouthpiece  of  the  inhaling  instrument 
was  then  put  into  her  mouth,  and  she  was 
directed  to  take  long  inspirations.  After 
breathing  in  this  way  a  short  time,  the 
nostrils  were  compressed,  so  that  all  the 
air  that  went  into  the  lungs  must  first 
pass  through  the  machine,  and  of  course 
be  mixed  with  the  vapor  of  the  ether. 
She  breathed  with  perfect  ease,  and  with- 
out struggling,  and  in  about  three  minutes 
from  the  time  the  instrument  was  put 
into  her  mouth,  Dr.  Morton  said,  *  She  is 
ready.'  A  death-like  silence  reigned  in 
the  room ;  no  one  moved,  or  hardly 
breathed.  The  doctor  passed  the  knife 
directly  through  the  limb,  and  brought  it 


out  as  rapidly  as  he  could,  and  made  the 
upper  nap.  The  patient  gave  no  sign  of 
feeling  or  consciousness,  but  looked  like 
one  in  a  deep,  quiet  sleep.  Every  other 
person  in  the  room  took  a  full  inspiration 
that  was  distinctly  audible,  and  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  could  now  breathe  again. 
The  second  flap  was  then  made,  the  bone 
sawed,  five  arteries  were  tied,  and  as  the 
doctor  was  tightening  the  ligature  upon 
the  sixth  and  last  she  groaned,  being  the 
first  indication  of  sensibility  that  had 
been  given.  Nothing  more  was  done  than 
to  bring  the  flaps  together,  cover  the 
stump  with  cloths  dipped  in  cold  water, 
and  apply  two  or  three  turns  of  a  roller  to 
keep  them  in  place.  Her  consciousness 
soon  returned ;  she  mas  wholly  ignorant 
that  the  operation  had  been  done!  For 
some  time  she  would  not  believe  it,  and 
said  that  she  had  felt  nothing  till  the 
doctor  tied  the  last  artery.  The  operation 
lasted  a  minute  and  three-quarters. 

The  phenomena,  or  effects,  produced  by 
the  administration  of  ether,  are  extremely 
various,  depending  much,  of  course,  upon 
the  temperament,  habits,  and  condition  of 
the  patient.  Sometimes  the  dream  is  ex- 
quisitely charming,  and  the  patient  seems 
passed  into  another  and  a  better  world. 
Sometimes  the  opposite  state  obtains,  the 
patient  betraying'  manifest  uneasiness 
while  in  the  trance,  by  restless,  staring, 
anguished  eye-balls,  by  groaning,  and  by 
wrestling  movements  of  the  body.  And 
these  are  not  loath  to  emerge  from  the 
effects  of  the  drug,  while  the  former  part 
with  them  grudgingly.  One  poor  girl,  for 
instance,  had  struggled  hard  during  an 
amputation,  yet  felt  no  pain ;  and,  on  com- 
ing to  herself,  thankfulness  was  expressed 
in  every  feature,  as  well  as  by  her  blithe 
tongue,  for  she  "thocht  the  deil  had  a 
grip  o'  her  a'  the  time." 

In  some  cases,  the  dreamer  is  falling  from 
a  great  height  rapidly,  down  and  down  into 
some  unfathomable  abyss.  In  other  cases, 
the  dream  is  warlike ;  personal  to  the 
dreamer;  or  of  by-gone  days,  implicating 
some  great  military  demonstration ;  and 
the  crack  of  tooth-pulling  has  thus  passed 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHEE. 


329 


off  as  the  din  of  ordnance.  Sometimes,  in 
youth,  the  dream  lias  been  "  all  fun  ;"  and 
the  dreamer  has  been  anxious  to  be  back 
into  the  midst  of  his  pleasant  pastime 
again,  even  at  the  cost  of  another  tooth- 
drawing.  The  patient,  if  a  wanderer,  and 
then  in  a  strange  land,  may  dream  pleas- 
antly of  home — "  she  had  been  home,  it 
was  beautiful,  and  she  had  been  gone  a 
month  ; "  so  said  one  poor  woman  in  the 
midst  of  what,  without  the  ether,  would 
have  been  agony. 

Sometimes  the  dream  passes  steadily  on 
to  completion,  sometimes  it  is  abruptly 
closed  by  some  critical  procedure  on  the 
part  of  the  operator — the  extraction  of  a 
tooth,  with  a  sudden  wrench,  for  example. 
A  soldier  dreams  of  guns  and  bayonets, 
and  strife,  and  clamor ;  a  sailor,  of  ships, 
and  storms,  and  grog ;  an  Irishman  of 
whiskey  and  shillalahs,  and  a  "  skrim- 
mage  ;  "  a  boy  of  marbles,  tops,  and  "  lots 
of  fun  ;  "  a  mother,  of  home  and  children ; 
a  girl,  of  gala-days  and  finery. 

A  tippler  fancies  he  is  in  the  grog-shop, 
and  there  he  may  enjoy  himself  hugely — 
or  he  may  dream  "  his  wife  came  to  fetch 
him."  Quarrelsome  men  grow  pugilistic, 
and  coats  may  be  doffed  with  appropriate 
accompaniment  of  word  and  action. 
Young  men,  having  some  one  in  their  list 
of  female  acquaintance  dearer  than  the 
rest,  grow  active  lovers,  and  in  lone  walks, 
earnest  conversations,  or  soft  whisperings, 
seem  to  make  rare  progress  in  their  suit. 
The  swearing  and  dissolute  may  indulge 
in  oaths  and  profane  jests.  The  man  of 
fervent  piety,  who  is  habitually  looking 
heavenward,  may  not  only  suppose  himself 
translated  to  the  realms  of  bliss,  but  may 
take  part  in  imagined  exercises  there.  A 
patient  of  this  class  was  known  thus  to 
employ  himself  immediately  after  a  pain- 
ful operation ;  four  verses  of  a  psalm  were 
sung  by  him  very  loudly,  with  his  eyes 
fixed,  his  body  in  a  tremor,  and  intense 
fervor  shown  in  every  movement;  he 
would  not  be  interrupted,  and  could 
scarcely  be  prevailed  upon  to  leave  the 
operation-room,  seeing  that  he  found  him- 
self so  wonderfully  happy  there — said  he 


had  been  in  heaven,  and  had  seen  his 
Savior ;  on  reaching  his  bed,  he  fell  on  his 
knees  and  was  rapt  in  prayer. 

Not  always,  however,  is  the  dream  con- 
sistent with  the  character.  Among  the 
instances  showing  this,  is  that  of  a  young, 
simpering  and  innocent  damsel,  who, 
addressing  a  most  amiable  and  excellent 
dentist,  knitting  her  brow  into  something 
more  than  a  frown,  clenching  her  fist,  and 
scowling  defiance,  vowed  in  the  most  up- 
roarious tone  and  manner,  that  if  he  ven- 
tured near  her  with  his  profane  touch, 
"big  blackguard,  as  he  was,  she'd  knock 
him  down."  And  so,  too,  staid,  demure, 
elderly  persons,  have,  in  most  abandoned 
gayety,  insisted  on  the  operator  forthwith 
joining  them  in  a  joyous  polka ! 

In  plain  language,  as  in  plain  fact — saya 
an  English  reviewer,  whose  interesting 
resume  is  here  quoted — the  patient  is 
drunk.  Sometimes  the  consciousness  of 
this  condition  is  made  apparent  by  the 
sensations  which  are  induced  in  the  early 
period  of  inhalation.  "  You'll  have  me 
drunk  !  "  cried  one ;  "  Oh,  you  rascals  !  I 
know  what  you  are  ; "  evidently  supposing 
that  he  had  fallen  into  loose  society,  and 
that  his  companions  had  a  design  on  him. 
But  it  is  on  coming  out  of  the  trance,  that 
the  intoxication  shows  most.  The  patient 
sways  as  he  tries  to  stand ;  is  garrulous, 
sprightly,  and  humorous ;  and  often  in- 
sists on  shaking  hands  with  all  and 
sundry.  The  unsteadiness  of  gait,  and 
lightness  of  head,  sometimes  have  an 
inconvenient  duration,  as  is  illustrated  in 
the  case  of  a  most  worthy  lady,  who,  leav- 
ing the  dentist  too  soon,  had  to  grope  her 
way  along  the  railing  of  the  street,  in 
noonday,  and  ran  no  slight  risk  of  losing 
all  reputation  for  sobriety. 

Among  the  many  amusing  examples  of 
the  effect  produced  by  the  administration 
of  the  anaesthetic — in  addition  to  its  pri- 
mary quality  of  annulling  pain — the  follow- 
ing may  be  cited :  An  Irish  woman,  who 
had  never  heard  of  ether  previous  to  call- 
ing upon  the  dentist  for  the  purpose  of 
having  a  large  molar  tooth  extracted,  took 
it  on  being  told  that  she  would  suffer  no 


330 


DISCOVEEY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHEE. 


pain,  and  would,  probably,  have  an  inter- 
view with  her  friends  in  the  old  country. 
Just  as  its  influence  commenced,  the 
doctor  remarked  that  he  would  like  to 
have  her  observe  what  occupation  her 
friends  were  engaged  in,  if  she  succeeded 
in  finding  them.  The  tooth  was  drawn ; 
she  moved  not  a  muscle  of  the  face,  but 
remained  as  in  a  quiet  sleep,  for  about  one 


machinery,  declared  herself  unhurt  by  the 
operation,  and  wished  the  doctor  to  see  if 
there  was  not  "another  tooth  what  wanted 
to  lie  dreiv." 

Another  example  of  this  class,  was  that 
of  a  middle-aged  Irishman,  who  had  sus- 
tained compound  fracture  of  the  leg.  The 
fracture  had  not  united,  in  consequence  of 
the  presence  of  a  dead  piece  of  bone,  and 


MONUMENT  ERECTED  IN  HONOR  OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  KTHER. 


minute.  Upon  opening  her  eyes  she 
exclaimed,  "  I  have  seen  all  my  friends ; 
they  were  engaged  in  spinning — and  don't 
I  hear  their  wheels  now,  sure  ? "  She 
said  it  appeared  to  her  as  though  she  had 
been  absent  many  months.  She  recol- 
lected that  she  went  home  in  a  steam 
vessel,  heard  the  noise  of  steam  and 


it  became  necessary  to  remove  this  by  a 
painful  operation,  in  the  following  manner : 
The  patient  was  Seated  on  a  table,  and 
the  inhalation  was  applied.  At  first,  little 
effect  was  produced,  but  after  some  min- 
utes, the  patient  fell  backwards,  as  in  a 
swoon.  The  operator  was  then  about  to 
proceed ;  but  the  man  immediately  ob- 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE  INHALATION  OF  ETHER. 


331 


jected,  saving  that  "he  was  not  asleep,  and 
that  he  trusted  nothing  would  be  done 
till  he  was  asleep."  For  full  twenty  min- 
utes more  the  inhalation  went  on,  the  man 
confused  and  talkative,  but  wide-awake, 
and  occasionally  expressing  very  emphati- 
cally his  conviction  that  "  it  would  not  do." 
At  length,  however,  while  in  this  wakeful 
state,  the  operation  was  begun.  Incisions 
were  made  on  the  shin,  and  flaps  were  dis- 
sected off  so  as  to  expose  the  bone  beneath. 
A  portion  of  this  was  sawn  and  clipped 
through,  and  then  the  dead  bone  was 
removed.  Only  during  the  clipping  of  the 
bone  with  strong  straining  pliers  did  any 
sign  of  feeling  escape  from  the  patient, 
who  was  busy  inhaling  all  the  while,  and 
now  and  then  protesting  that  "  it  wouldn't 
do."  The  operation  occupied  about  ten 
minutes,  and,  from  the  highly  sensitive 
nature  of  the  parts  involved,  must  have 
been  attended  with  excruciating  suffering 
under  ordinary  circumstances.  After  it 
was  over,  the  operator  said  to  the  patient — 

"I  suppose  you  won't  let  me  operate 
to-day  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  replied  the  patient, 
"  it  won't  do ;  I  must  be  asleep.  The 
thing  hasn't  succeeded  with  me,  and  I  am 
sure  it  can't  succeed  with  any  one  else,  for 
I  did  everything  I  could  to  get  asleep,  for 
my  own  sake,  and  I'd  do  anything  to  plase 
you." 

"  Then  you  won't  even  let  me  make  a 
cut  into  the  leg  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  must  be  asleep ;  we  can  try  it 
another  time." 

This  plain  proof  of  his  utter  unconscious- 
ness of  the  operation  having  been  per- 
formed was  acknowledged  by  the  specta- 
tors in  a  hearty  round  of  applause.  The 
patient  then  sat  up,  and,  seeing  the  wound, 
burst  into  an  immoderate  fit  of  laughter, 
saying — 

"No  doubt  there? s  blood,  or  something 
rery  like  it;  but  I  haven't  felt  a  single 
thing  done  to  my  leg.  That  bates  the 
globe !  " 

On  being  asked  decidedly  as  to  his 
having  felt  anything,  he  repeatedly  an- 
swered "Not  a  ha'  porth."  He  got  into 


amazing  spirits,  and  refused  to  leave  the 
room  until  he  had  told  "all  about  the  tol- 
drunis  of  the  business."  And  then,  with 
the  manner  of  a  tipsy  man,  and  very 
happy,  he  kept  surgeons  and  students  in  a 
roar  of  laughter  for  some  minutes  with  a 
narrative  of  his  condition  during  the  in- 
halation, which,  Irish-like,  seemed  to  have 
an  interminable  medley  of  imaginary 
fights  and  "killings"  going  on  around 
him. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  Drs. 
Jackson,  Morton,  and  Wells,  respectively, 
claim  the  honor  of  having  discovered  this 
great  fact  in  chemical  and  medical  science, 
and  the  claim  of  each  is  supported  by  a 
formidable  army  of  names  and  evidence. 
One  of  the  most  candid  investigators  of 
the  character  and  weight  of  these  several 
and  conflicting  claims,  has  presented  the 
case  in  this  light,  namely:  That  to  Dr. 
Wells  unquestionably  belongs  the  merit 
of  having  first  demonstrated  the  happy 
idea  of  deadening  sensibility  in  painful 
operations,  by  using  both  nitrous  oxide 
and  sulphuric  ether ;  that  to  Dr.  Jackson, 
the  thanks  of  the  world  are  due  for  lend- 
ing that  influence  which  his  well-earned 
reputation  qualified  him  to  do,  in  estab- 
lishing confidence  in  the  public  mind  in 
the  use  of  sulphuric  ether,  as  a  substitute 
for  the  nitrous  oxide  ;  and  that,  to  Dr. 
Morton's  indefatigable  exertions  in  secur- 
ing the  attention  of  leading  medical  men 
to  the  subject,  was  due  the  rapid  adoption 
of  sulphuric  ether  in  connection  with  the 
practice  of  surgery.  But,  singularly 
enough,  though  the  French  Academy  has 
acknowledged,  by  pecuniary  and  honorary 
awards,  the  indebtedness  of  mankind  to 
the  American  discoverers  of  this  vast 
blessing  to  humanity,  the  American  gov- 
ernment has  thus  far  failed  to  confer  any 
reward  upon  any  one  of  the  distinguished 
claimants.  A  costly  and  superb  monu- 
ment, designed  and  executed  with  con- 
summate skill  by  Ward,  the  eminent 
sculptor,  and  erected  at  the  cost  of  a 
wealthy  citizen  of  Boston,  in  honor  of  this 
great  discovery,  now  adorns  the  public 
garden  of  that  city. 


XLI. 

INVENTION  OF  THAT  WONDROUS  PIECE  OF  MECHANISM, 
THE    SEWING-MACHINE.— 1846. 


Romantic  Genius  and  Perseverance  Displayed  in  its  Production  — Toils  of  the  Inventor  in  His  Garret 
— World-Wide  Introduction  of  the  Device. — Upwards  of  One  Thousand  Patents  Taken  Out  in  the 
United  States. — The  Industrial  Interests  of  the  Country  Affected  to  the  Amount  of  $500,000,000 
Annually. — The  Humble  Inventor  Becomes  a  Millionaire. — The  Main  Principle  Involved. — Compari- 
son with  Hand-Sewing  — How  it  was  Suggested. — Listening  to  Some  Advantage. — History  of  Mr. 
Howe's  Efforts. — Ingenuity,  Struggles,  Triumphs. — Value  of  a  Friend  in  Need. — A  Machine  at  Last 
— Its  Parts,  Capabilities,  etc. — Reception  by  the  Public. — Doubt  Succeeded  by  Admiration. — Great 
Popularity  and  Demand. — Wearisome  Litigation  with  Rivals. — Interesting  Question  of  Priority. — 
Decided  in  Howe's  Favor. — He  Rises  to  Affluence. — Improvements  by  Others. — Unique  and  Useful 
Devices. — Number  of  Machines  Produced. — Time  and  Labor  Saved. — Effect  Upon  Prices. — New 
Avenues  of  Labor  Opened. 


"  The  Invention  all  admired. 

And  each  how  he  to  be  the  inventor  mlMed, 

80  plain  it  seemed  once  found — which  yet  tm-fbund. 

Most  would  have  thought  impossible." 


THH  INVENTOK  TOILING  IN  HIS   GARRET. 


IFFERENCE  of  opinion  there  may 
be,  with  regard  to   the   abstract 
question,  who  first  conceived  the 
peculiar     principle    involved    in 
sewing  by  machinery,  and  even 
in  respect  to  who  was  the  original  con- 
structor of  a  machine  capable  of  fulfilling 
this  idea  ;  but,  so  far  as  actual  demonstra- 
tion of  its  feasibleness  and  utility  is  con- 
cerned, and  for  the  great   results   which 
have  followed  that  demonstration,  the  world 
must  be   considered   as  indebted  to  Elias 
Howe,  Jr.,  a  Massachusetts  mechanic,  born 
and  reared  in  obscure  circumstances,  and 
at  an   early   age    thrown    upon   his   own 
resources  of  industrious  endeavor,  for  simple   sub- 
sistence. 

It  may  be  remarked,  as  a  general  fact,  that  the 
peculiar  or  original  principle  characterizing  the 
modern  sewing-machine,  consists  in  the  use  of  two 
threads,  oue  being  fed  by  a  needle,  and  the  other— 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


333 


the  wrong  side  thread,  or,  as  it  has  been 
termed,  the  auxiliary  thread — being  sup- 
plied by  a  shuttle  and  bobbin.  The  needle 
is  secured  to  a  stock,  whose  movement, 
caused  by  arms  and  levers,  drives  its  point 
through  the  material  to  be  sewed;  the 
eye  of  the  needle,  at  a  moderate  distance 
from  the  point,  carries  the  thread  through 
and  then  retires  leaving  a  loop,  through 
which  loop  a  shuttle  is  passed,  on  the 
tinder  side  of  the  material  to  be  sewed; 
this  shuttle  carries  a  quantity  of  thread 
upon  a  spool,  which  it  supplies  as  the  seam 
progresses.  The  needle  on  retiring  draws 
up  the  loop,  and  thus  closes  the  seam, 
which  on  the  upper  or  face  side  of  the 
work  presents  the  appearance  of  what  is 
called  a  'row  of  stitching,'  and  on  the 
under,  a  close  resemblance,  but  differing 
slightly.  The  return,  or  rotation  of  the 
shuttle  in  its  orbit,  is  a  matter  of  course, 
and  the  work  thus  goes  on  continuously 
and  with  great  rapidity. 

The  feed,  or  the  progressive  movement 
of  the  material  to  be  sewed  under  the 
needle,  is  accomplished  in  various  ways — 
primarily,  by  means  of  the  friction  of  a 
feeding  wheel,  whose  roughened  surface 
creates  sufficient  adhesion  to  move  the 
material  forward  at  the  requisite  intervals. 
This  feed  is  effected  by  the  ordinary 
means  of  a  racket-wheel  and  click,  or  paul, 
the  latter  being  capable  of  adjustment 
through  shifting  levers,  so  as  to  give  a 
longer  or  shorter  stitch,  at  the  will  of  the 
operator,  or  the  requirements  of  the  work. 

These  devices  and  arrangements,  with 
such  improved  modifications  as  experience 
and  ingenuity  have  suggested  from  time  to 
time,  constitute  the  American  sewing- 
machine. 

Although  the  use  of  the  sewing-machine 
has  become  general  only  within  a  compar- 
atively recent  period,  the  instrument  is, 
in  a  certain  sense,  an  old  invention.  The 
needle  with  the  eye  in  the  center,  and 
double-pointed,  is  beautifully  employed  in 
the  embroidery  machine,  which  is  an  old 
French  device.  Thjs  machine  worked 
upon  cloth  as  many  as  sixty  similar  figures 
or  flowers  at  the  same  time ;  the  whole 


being  directed  by  one  hand,  who,  by  the 
aid  of  a  pentagraphic  guide  on  a  prepared 
pattern,  pointed  the  needles  to  their  appro- 
priate place  of  entrance,  and  returned  them 
with  unerring  certainty  and  exactitude. 
The  earliest  form  of  stitch  made  use  of 
was  the  'chain  stitch,'  which  is  still 
employed  for  ornamental  purposes,  but  is 
not  approved  of  where  strength  and  dura- 
bility are  required.  The  next  stitch  in 
order  was  the  '  running  stitch,'  and  was 
accomplished  by  means  of  a  needle  having 
an  eye  in  the  middle  and  points  at  each 
end ;  this  has  been  extensively  used  for 
the  cheaper  kinds  of  work,  but  does  not 
insure  durability.  The  next  form  of  stitch 
is  that  already  described,  as  formed  by 
means  of  two  threads,  with  a  needle  and 
shuttle  ; — and  this  opens  up  the  wonderful 
era  of  modern  sewing-machines,  beginning 
with  the  introduction  to  the  public  of  that 
by  Mr.  Howe. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  follow  Mr. 
Howe  through  all  the  details  of  his  varied 
experience  during  his  early  years.  Suffice 
it  to  say,  that  it  was  at  Boston,  when  in 
his  twentieth  year,  and  after  he  had 
learned  the  rudiments  of  liis  trade  in  one 
of  the  machine  shops  of  Lowell,  and  sub- 
sequently in  Cambridge,  working  side  by 
side  with  Nathaniel  P.  Banks,  that  the 
thought  of  sewing  by  machinery  was  first 
suggested  to  his  mind.  As  related  by 
Mr.  Parton,  in  his  admirable  magazine 
sketch  of  Howe,  this  singularly  fortuitous 
incident  happened  in  this  wise : — In  the 
year  1839,  two  men  in  Boston,  one  a 
mechanic  and  the  other  a  capitalist,  were 
striving  to  produce  a  knitting-machine, 
which  proved  to  be  a  task  beyond  their 
strength.  When  the  inventor  was  at  his 
wit's  end,  his  capitalist  brought  the 
machine  to  the  shop  of  Ari  Davis,  to  see 
if  that  eccentric  genius  could  suggest  the 
solution  of  the  difficulty,  and  make  the  ma- 
chine work.  The  shop,  resolving  itself  into 
a  committee  of  the  whole,  gathered  about 
the  knitting-machine  and  its  proprietor, 
and  were  listening  to  an  explanation  of  its 
principle,  when  Davis,  in  his  wild,  extrava- 
gant way,  broke  in  with  the  question — 


334 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


"  What  are  you  bothering  yourselves 
with  a  knitting-machine  for  ?  Why  don't 
you  make  a  sewing-machine  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  said  the  capitalist : 
"but  it  can't  be  done." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  can,"  said  Davis ;  "  I  can 
make  a  sewing-machine  myself." 

"Well,"  said  the  other,  "you  do  it, 
Davis,  and  I'll  insure  you  an  independent 
fortune." 

Among  the  workmen  who  stood  by  and 
listened  to  this  conversation — and  in  this 
instance  at  least  the  old  adage  concern- 
ing listeners  appears  to  have  been  reversed 
— says  Parton,  was  Howe  ;  and  from  that 
time  he  was  in  the  habit,  in  his  leisure 


moments,  of  meditating  devices  for  sewing 
by  machinery.  Having  inherited  a  con- 
stitution hardly  strong  enough  for  the 
work  of  a  machinist,  and  burdened  even 
in  his  opening  manhood  with  the  care  of  a 
growing  family,  his  attention  was  more 
and  more  concentrated  upen  the  project 
of  building  a  machine  which  would  furnish 
him  a  livelihood  more  easily  earned.  In 
December,  1845,  upon  a  small  capital,  pro- 
vided by  the  generosity  of  an  old  friend, 
he  shut  himself  up  in  a  garret  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  set  himself  seriously  to  the 
task  of  inventing  a  sewing  machine. 
After  about  six  montJis  of  incessant  labor 


and  reflection  he  produced  the  first  ma- 
chine that  ever  sewed  a  seam,  and  he  was 
soon  the  wearer  of  a  suit  of  clothes  made 
by  its   assistance.      This   first    machine, 
which  is  one  of  great  beauty  and  finish,  is 
still  in   existence,  an  object  of  peculiar 
interest  to  the  curious  who  inspect  it;  and 
it  will  sew  ten  times  as  fast  as  a  woman 
can  sew  by  hand.     Having  patented  the 
machine,  and  finding  the  tailors  of  Amer- 
ica averse  to  its  introduction,  he  went  to 
England,   where  he  succeeded  in  selling 
two  machines  ;  but  found  so  little  encour- 
agement that  he  would  have  starved  to 
death  but  for  the  aid  of  friends,  and  he 
resolved  to  return  home,  or  at  least  to  send 
his  family.     So  pinched  was  he, 
while   in   London,    that    he    fre- 
quently borrowed  small   sums  of 
his   friend,    Mr.    Inglis — on  one 
occasion  a  shilling,  with  which  he 
bought   some   beans,  and  cooked 
and  ate  them  in  his  own  room, — 
and  through   him   also   obtained 
some  credit  for  provisions.     Ar- 
riving home,  after  an  absence  of 
about  two  years,  he  found  that  the 
sewing-machine  was  a  conspicuous 
object  of  public  attention;  doubt 
had  been  succeeded  by  admiration 
of  its  qualities ;  and  several  ingen- 
ious   men   having   experimented, 
had  finally  improved  upon  the  ma- 
chine   as  originally   constructed. 
-£^<  A  war  of  litigation  ensued,  and, 
,^^  '    after   several  years,  Mr.   Howe's 
claim  to  be   the  original   inventor     wa» 
legally   and    irreversibly  established,  the 
judge  deciding  that  'there  was  no  evidenc* 
which  left  a  shadow  of  doubt  that,  for  all 
the  benefit  conferred  upon  the  public  by 
the  introduction  of  a  sewing-machine,  the 
public  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Howe.'      To 
him,    therefore,    all    other    inventors    or 
improvers    had    to    pay    tribute.      From 
being  a  poor   man,   Howe   became,  in   a 
few  years,  one   of   the   most  noted  mil- 
lionaires in  America ;   and  his  bust,  exe- 
cuted by  Eilis,  sljows  a  man  of  marked 
personal  appearance  and  striking  natural 
endowments. 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


335 


But  here  the  very  singular  circumstances 
relating  to  the  alleged  priority  of  Mr. 
Walter  Hunt's  invention,  as  described  by 
a  graphic  and  well-informed  writer  in  the 
New  York  Galaxy, — showing  how  preca- 
rious, at  best,  is  the  basis  upon  which 
even  the  most  impartial  of  legal  conclu- 
sions are  arrived  at, — may  well  be  pre- 
sented, as  exhibiting  the  trials  of  inventors 
and  public  benefactors  :  It  was  between 
the  years  1832  and  1834,  that  Mr.  Hunt, 
in  his  own  workshop  in  Amos  street,  New 
York  city,  invented,  built,  and  put  into 
full  and  effective  operation  a  machine  for 
sewing,  stitching,  and  seaming  cloth. 
This  first  machine  was  made  principally 
by  the  inventor's  own  hands.  It  was  the 
pioneer  sewing-machine  of  America,  and 
the  first  really  successful  one  of  the  world. 
There  had  already  been  a  French  inven- 
tion, a  tambour  machine  for  ornamenting 
gloves;  but  it  was  of  very  little  general 
utility.  These  machines  of  Walter  Hunt 
all  contained  the  invention  of  the  curved 
needle  with  the  eye  near  the  point,  the 
shuttle  and  their  combination,  and  they 
originated  the  famous  interlocked  stitch 
with  two  threads.  Many  samples  of  cloth 
were  perfectly  sewn  by  these  machines, 
and  many  of  the  friends  and  neighbors  of 
the  inventor  came  to  see  them  work.  At 
length,  one  G.  A.  Arrowsmith  was  so  well 
satisfied  with  the  working  of  the  machines, 
that  he  bought  them,  in  1834,  and  there- 
with the  right  to  obtain  letters-patent. 
But  no  sooner  had  Arrowsmith  got  this 
right,  than  he  became  impressed  both  with 
the  vastness  of  the  undertaking  and  with 
the  prejudice  which  any  scheme  appar- 
ently tending  to  impoverish  poor  seam- 
stresses would  awaken.  At  the  same  time 
he  became  involved  in  pecuniary  disaster, 
and  for  years  did  nothing  with  the 
machine.  Fortunately  for  Mr.  Hunt's 
fame,  many  persons  had  seen  his  machines 
work,  and  had  seen  them  sew  a  good, 
strong  and  handsome  stitch,  and  form 
seams  better  than  hand-sewing.  Of  these, 
no  less  than  six  directly  testified  to  this 
fact  in  a  suit  afterward  brought,  and 
established  the  fact  beyond  question  that 


Walter  Hunt  invented  the  first  sewing- 
machine,  and  that  it  contained  the  curved, 
eye-pointed  needle  at  the  end  of  a  vibrate 
ing  arm  with  a  shuttle.  The  case  itself 
was  decided  upon  another  point.  These 
affidavits  are  still  in  existence.  But  this 
was  not  all.  Fifteen  years  after  he  had 
sold  his  machines  to  Arrowsmith,  who  lost 
a  fortune  and  a  name  in  not  devoting  him- 
self to  their  reproduction,  Waher  Hunt 
from  memory  gave  a  sworn  written  de- 
scription of  his  first  machine  in  every  part, 
and,  to  clinch  the  matter,  afterward  con- 
structed a  machine  from  that  description, 
which  was  the  counterpart  of  the  machine 
of  1834,  and  worked  perfectly.  Finally, 
one  of  the  original  machines  sold  to  Arrow- 
smith  in  1834,  was  and  is,  still  preserved, 
though  in  a  dilapidated  condition.  Walter 
Hunt  then  undertook  to  make  a  new 
sewing-machine,  which  should  be  an  oper- 
ative instrument,  and  should  contain 
all  the  parts  which  were  preserved  of 
the  old  machine,  with  such  others  as  were 
necessary  to  present  the  machine  in  the 
same  shape  that  the  original  one  pos- 
sessed. He  did  this  successfully,  and 
the  restored  machine,  still  operative  and 
ready  to  sew  good,  strong  seams,  is  yet  in 
existence. 

Without  drawing  further,  however,  from 
this  curiously  interesting  chapter  in  the 
history  of  the  machine,  involving  a  ques- 
tion of  the  deepest  interest  to  inventors, 
it  is  time  to  describe  the  instrument — its 
parts  and  peculiar  features,  and  modus 
operandi, —  invented  by  Mr.  Howe,  and 
which  transformed  him  from  an  obscure 
and  struggling  mechanic  to  one  of  the 
foremost  manufacturers  and  millionaires 
in  America  Seating  ourselves  therefore 
before  this  wonderful  elaboration  of  artis- 
tic genius  and  skill,  as  it  has  come  fresh 
from  the  hands  of  the  toilsome  but  at  last 
successful  inventor,  and  witnessing  its 
weird  and  agile  movement  while  its  enthu- 
siastic proprietor  essays  to  sew  a  seam,  we 
find  that  two  threads  are  employed,  one  of 
which  is  carried  through  the  cloth  by 
means  of  a  curved  needle,  the  pointed  ead 
of  which  passes  through  the  cloth ;  the 


336 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


THE  OLD  AND  SKW.   SEWISO  I1V  I1AXU  AXU  MACHINE. 


needle  used  has  the  eye  that  is  to  receive 
the  thread  within  a  small  distance,  say  an 
eighth  of  an  inch,  of  its  inner  or  pointed 
end,  the  other  or  outer  end  of  the  needle 
being  held  by  an  arm  that  vibrates  on  a 
pivot  or  joint  pin,  the  curvature  of  the 
needle  being  such  as  to  correspond  with 
the  length  of  the  arm  as  its  radius. 

When  the  thread  is  carried  through  the 
cloth,  which  may  be  done  to  the  distance 
of  about  three-fourths  of  an  inch,  the  thread 
will  be  stretched  above  the  curved  needle, 
something  in  the  manner  of  a  bowstring, 
leaving  a  small  open  space  between  the 
two.  A  small  shuttle,  carrying  a  bobbin 
filled  with  silk  or  thread,  is  then  made  to 
pass  entirely  through  this  open  space, 
between  the  needle  and  the  thread  which 
it  carries ;  and  when  the  shuttle  is  re- 
turned, which  is  done  by  means  of  a  picker 
staff  or  shuttle-driver,  the  thread  which 
was  carried  in  by  the  needle  is  surrounded 
by  that  received  from  the  shuttle ;  as  the 
needle  is  drawn  out,  it  forces  that  which 
was  received  from  the  shuttle  into  the 
body  of  the  cloth ;  and  as  this  operation 
is  repeated,  a  seam  is  formed  which  has  on 


each  side  of  the  cloth  the  same  appearance 
as  that  given  by  stitching,  with  this  pecu- 
liarity, that  the  thread  sewn  on  one  side 
of  the  cloth  is  exclusively  that  which  was 
given  out  by  the  needle,  and  the  thread 
seen  on  the  other  side  is  exclusively  that 
which  was  given  out  by  the  shuttle. 

Thus,  according  to  this  arrangement,  a 
stitch  is  made  at  every  back  and  forth 
movement  of  the  shuttle.  The  two  thick- 
nesses of  cloth  that  are  to  be  sewed,  are 
held  upon  pointed  wires,  which  project  out 
from  a  metallic  plate,  like  the  teeth  of  a 
comb,  but  at  a  considerable  distance  from 
each  other, — say  three-fourths  of  an  inch, 
more  or  less, — these  pointed  wires  sustain- 
ing the  cloth,  and  answering  the  purpose  of 
ordinary  basting.  The  metallic  plate  from 
which  these  wires  project  has  numerous 
holes  through  it,  which  answer  the  purpose 
of  rack  teeth  in  enabling  the  plate  to  move 
forward,  by  means  of  a  pinion,  as  the 
stitches  are  taken.  The  distance  to  which 
the  said  plate  is  moved,  and,  consequently, 
the  length  of  the  stitches,  may  be  regu- 
lated at  pleasure. 

One  of   the   most    formidable    of    Mr. 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


337 


Howe's  competitors,  as  a  successful  in- 
ventor and  manufacturer,  was  Mr.  I.  M. 
Singer.  His  biographer  speaks  of  him  as 
a  mechanic  of  some  ingenuity  but  of  small 
means,  who,  taking  up  with  a  casual  sug- 
gestion made  to  him  by  a  comrade,  that  a 
sewing-machine  capable  of  doing  a  greater 
variety  of  work  would  be  a  profitable 
thing,  ceased  all  other  labor,  and,  borrow- 
ing forty  or  fifty  dollars  of  his  friend  Mr. 
Zieber,  applied  himself  unremittingly  to 
the  accomplishment  of  his  task.  He 
worked,  as  he  states,  day  and  night,  sleep- 
ing but  three  or  four  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four,  and  eating  generally  but 
once  a  day,  knowing  that  he  must  get  a 
machine  made  for  forty  dollars,  or  not  get 
it  at  all.  The  machine  was  completed  the 
night  of  the  eleventh  day  from  the  day  it 
was  commenced.  About  nine  o'clock  that 
evening  the  parts  of  the  machine  were 
finally  put  together,  and  a  trial  commenced 
with  it.  The  first  attempt  to  sew  was 
unsuccessful,  and  the  workmen,  who  were 
tired  out  with  almost  unremitting  work, 
left  him  one  by  one,  intimating  that  the 
thing  was  a  failure.  Singer  continued, 
however,  tr3'ing  the  machine,  with  Zieber 
to  hold  the  lamp  for  him ;  but,  in  the  ner- 
vous condition  to  which  he  had  become 
reduced  by  incessant  toil  and  anxiety,  was 
unsuccessful  in  getting  the  machine  to 
sew  tight  stitches.  About  midnight, 
Singer  started  for  the  hotel  where  he  then 
boarded,  accompanied  by  Zieber.  Upon 
the  way,  they  sat  down  on  a  pile  of  boards, 
and  Zieber  asked  Singer  if  he  had  noticed 
that  the  loose  loops  of  thread  on  the  upper 
side  of  the  cloth  came  from  the  needle. 
It  then  flashed  upon  Singers  mind  that 
he  had  forgotten  to  adjust  the  tension  upon 
the  needle  thread  !  They  both  started  for 
the  shop  again.  Singer  adjusted  the  ten- 
sion, tried  the  machine,  and  sewed  five 
stitches  perfectly,  when  the  thread  broke. 
The  perfection  of  those  stitches,  however, 
satisfied  him  that  the  machine  was  a 
success,  and  he  therefore  stopped  work, 
went  to  the  hotel,  and  had  a  sound  sleep. 
By  three  o'clock  the  next  day,  he  had  the 
machine  finished,  and  started  with  it  to 
22 


New  York,  taking  immediate  steps  to 
secure  a  patent.  It  brought  him,  in  a  few 
years,  princely  wealth.  The  peculiarity 
of  this  machine  is  the  chain  stitch  or 
single  thread  device,  but  with  the  employ- 
ment of  an  eye-pointed  needle,  and  other 
appliances,  so  as  to  make  it  admirably 
adapted  for  the  general  purposes  of  sewing. 
On  a  similar  principle  are  the  Ladd  and 
Webster,  and  Tinkle  and  Lyon,  machines. 

Other  improvements  or  modifications  of 
the  machine  have  been  patented  by  Messrs. 
Grover  &  Baker,  Blodgett,  Lerow,  Wilson, 
Morey,  Johnson,  Chapin,  Gibbs,  Leavitt, 
Watson,  Clark,  Weed,  Arnold,  McKay, 
Langdon,  and  others,  but  which  can  only 
be  alluded  to  here.  The  principle  of  the 
double  -  thread  self -regulating  machine 
brought  forward  by  Mr.  Martin,  stopping 
whenever  the  thread  breaks  or  a  loop  is 
missed,  is  claimed  by  several  parties.  A 
number  of  the  machines  patented  after 
Howe's,  use  needles  of  a  different  kind  from 
his,  but  produce  the  same  stitch ;  most  of 
these  instruments  are  equally  correct  in 
respect  to  mechanical  principles,  but  differ 
widely  in  certain  particulars,  one  being 
vertical  and  the  other  horizontal,  one  car- 
rying its  own  cloth  and  another  requiring 
that  it  should  be  carried  by  hand;  with, 
other  differences. 

But  one  of  the  most  ingenious  and  orig- 
inal devices  in  this  line  remains  to  be 
mentioned,  namely,  a  combination  of  the 
sewing-machine  and  tho  melodeon,  by 
Wheeler  and  Wilson,  and  by  them  exhib- 
ited, on  its  completion,  to  an  admiring 
public.  The  apparatus  had  the  appear- 
ance, externally,  of  a  small  parlor  side- 
board or  other  similar  piece  of  furniture. 
On  lifting  the  front,  there  was  seen  a 
handsome  set  of  piano  keys.  On  closing 
it,  and  turning  back  a  hoop  on  the  top, 
there  opened  to  the  view  a  complete 
sewing-machine,  conveniently  arranged. 
Concealed  below,  within  side  doors,  were 
two  pedals,  one  for  the  music,  the  other 
for  the  sewing-machine.  Thus,  by  the 
use  of  one  of  these  ingenious  contrivances, 
when  the  lady  operating  the  machine 
became  tir«d  of  playing  at  sewing,  she 


338 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


could  change  her  foot  to  the  other  pedal, 
open  the  melodeon  part,  and  discourse 
music!  The  'rotating  hook'  and  feeding 
apparatus  of  the  Wilson  machine  consti- 
tute an  admirable  feature  ;  and  the  same 
may  be  said  of  the  Grover  &  Baker  or 
'double  loop '  stitch. 

Though  at  first  looked  upon  as  of  doubt- 
ful utility,  the  value  of  the  sewing-machine 
was  in  a  short  time  abundantly  demon- 
strated. Curiosity  and  doubt  were  suc- 
ceeded by  admiration,  and  soon  the  demand 
became  extensive  both  at  home  and  abroad, 
until,  at  the  present  time,  the  annual  pro- 
duction of  machines  is  thought  to  approx- 
imate to  half  a  million.  Active  minds 
were  also  not  slow  to  devise  what  they 
deemed  to  be  improvements  in  the  ma- 
chine and  its  appurtenances ;  and  to  this 
end,  the  number  of  patent-claims  filed  up 
to  the  present  time  does  not  vary  much 
from  one  thousand,  though  only  an 
extremely  small  proportion  of  these  are  of 
any  really  practical  importance. 

Such  a  revolution  in  the  processes  and 
results  of  national  industry  as  that  effected 
by  this  machine  could  have  entered  into 
no  man's  mind — not  even  the  mind  of  one 
given  to  the  wildest  romancing.  Thus,  in 
the  brief  period  of  some  dozen  years 
merely,  from  the  time  of  the  introduction 
of  the  machine  to  the  public,  the  value 
and  practical  results  of  the  invention  may 
be  understood  from  the  following  facts, 
which  appeared  in  evidence  in  the  contest 
before  the  commissioner  of  patents,  for  the 
extension  of  Howe's  patent — namely : 

At  that  time,  the  amount  of  the  boot  and 
shoe  business  of  Massachusetts  was  fifty- 
five  million  dollars  annually,  and  of  this 
amount,  the  ladies'  and  misses'  gaiter- 
boots  and  shoes  involved  one-half.  About 
one-eleventh  of  the  sum  total  above  named 
was  paid  for  sewing  labor.  From  this 
proportion  it  appeared  that  the  annual 
expenditure  for  sewing  upon  ladies'  and 
misses'  gaiter-boots  and  shoes  was  two  and 
a  half  million  dollars,  and  that  it  would 
have  cost  four  times  as  much  if  done  by 
hand, — so  that  the  saving  in  a  single  year, 
in  one  state,  by  this  invention,  in  the  man- 


ufacture of   one  special  article  only,  was 
nearly  eight  million  dollars. 

Similarly  conclusive  evidence  was  given 
in  regard  to  the  making  of  shirts,  by  an 
extensive  manufacturer  in  Connecticut, 
who  stated  that  his  factory  turned  out 
about  eight  hundred  dozen  per  week ;  that 
he  used  four  hundred  sewing-machines, 
and  that  one  machine,  with  an  attendant, 
would  do  the  work  of  five  hand-sewers  at 
least,  and  do  it  better.  He  paid,  at  least, 
four  dollars  per  week  ;  but,  reckoning  it 
at  three  dollars, — the  old  price  for  sewing 
before  machines  were  introduced, — it 
showed  a  saving,  in  this  single  manufac- 
tory, of  two  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
dollars.  Allowing,  then,  the  males  of  the 
United  States,  at  that  time,  to  wear  out 
two  shirts  a  year  apiece,  a  proportional 
saving  would  amount  to  the  large  sum  of 
between  eleven  and  twelve  million  dollars 
annually,  in  making  the  single  article  of 
shirts. 

Another  witness,  representing  the  firm 
of  Brooks  Brothers,  of  New  York  city, 
manufacturers  of  clothing,  stated  that  that 
house  alone  did  a  business,  at  the  period 
named,  of  over  a  million  dollars  annually, 
using  twenty  machines  in  the  store, 
besides  patronizing  those  that  others  used, 
and  doing  about  three-fourths  of  all  their 
sewing  by  machines,  and  paying  annually 
for  sewing  labor  about  two  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars ;  seventy-five  thousand  dollars 
of  this  was  saved  by  machines, — that  is, 
the  machines  saved  seventy-five  thousand 
dollars  on  every  two  hundred  thousand 
paid  for  sewing  labor.  But  the  great 
manufactures  of  this  house  did  not  consti- 
tute, at  most,  but  one-hundredth  part  of 
the  machine-made  clothing  produced  in 
that  city ;  which  fact,  putting  the  propor- 
tion at  one-hundredth  part,  made  the  busi- 
ness of  manufacturing  machine  clothing  in 
the  city  of  New  York  one  hundred  million 
dollars  per  annum  ;  and  thus,  at  the  rate 
paid  by  that  house  for  sewing,  it  brought 
the  cost  of  sewing  in  that  branch  of  the 
business  in  that  city,  —  even  with  the 
assistance  of  the  sewing-machines, — up  to 
twenty  million  dollars.  Applying  the 


INVENTION  OF  THE  SEWING-MACHINE. 


389 


same  ratio  to  the  estimated  amount  of  this 
branch  of  business  in  the  United  States, 
the  total  would  reach  the  sum  of  seventy- 
five  million  dollars.  Ali  this,  be  it  remem- 


bered, was  in  the  comparative  infancy  of 
the  machine.  Its  pecuniary  importance, 
as  a  labor  agent,  is  now  estimated  to  reach 
$500,000,000  annually. 


XLI1. 
SPIKITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS.— 184T. 


Familiar  Intercourse  Claimed  to  be  Opened  between  Human  and  Disembodied  Beings. — Alleged  Reve- 
lations from  the  Unseen  World. — Singular  and  Humble  Origin,  in  a  Secluded  N.  Y.  Village,  of  this 
Great  Modern  Wonder. — Its  Development  among  All  Nations  in  All  Lands. — Astonishing  and 
Inexplicable  Character  of  the  Manifestations. — First  Rappings  in  Hydesville,  N.  Y  — Time,  Manner, 
Circumstances. — A  Murdered  Man's  Spirit  — How  the  Mystery  was  Solved. — Rappings,  the  Spirit 
Language. — Its  Interpretation  Discovered. — Two  Young  Girls  the  "  Mediums." — Their  Harassed 
Experience. — Public  Efforts  to  Sift  the  Matter. — No  Clue  to  any  Deception. — The  Family  go  to 
Rochester. — Knockings  Accompany  Them. — New  Forms  of  "  Manifestations." — Many  Mediums 
Spring  Up. — Things  Strange  and  Startling. — Universal  Wonder  Excited. — Theories  of  Explanation. 
— Investigations  and  Reports. — Views  of  Agassiz,  Herschel,  Etc. — Press  and  Pulpit  Discussions.— 
Different  Opinions  as  to  the  Tendency  of  the  Phenomena — Thirty  Years'  History. 


"I  cannot  dUpoae  of  another  man's  facts,  nor  allow  him  to  dispose  of  mine."— EHBB801T. 


HOUSE  IN  WHICH  SPIRITUAL  EAPPINGS  ORIGINATED. 


OCHESTER,  N.  Y.,  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  thriving  of  Ameri- 
can inland  cities,  has  long  borne 
the  celebrity  which  attaches  to 
what  are  now  known,  the  world 
over,  as  "  spiritual  manifesta- 
tions,"— knockings,  rappings,  ta- 
ble-movings, spirit  communica- 
tions, and  the  like.  But,  in 
reality,  to  the  secluded  and  unambitious  village  of  Hydesville,  in  the  town  of 
Arcadia,  Wayne  county,  N.  Y.,  belongs  the  pre-eminent  distinction  of  being  the  place 
where  originated,  in  a  manner  most  casual,  and  seemingly  insignificant  for  the  time, 
in  respect  to  duration  or  results,  this  most  mysterious,  wonderful,  and  wide-spread 
physicc-psychological  phenomenon  since  the  world  began.  It  was  from  Hydesville  that 
these  manifestations  were  introduced — so  to  speak — in  the  city  first  named,  and  where, 
by  the  great  notoriety  which  soon  characterized  them,  they  came  to  be  known, 
universally,  as  the  "  Rochester  Knockings." 

The  starting  point  of  all,  in  the  history  of  this  astonishing  movement — one  which 
has  extended  to  the  remotest  bounds  of  the  known  world,  which  has  challenged  the 
scrutiny  and  excited  the  wonder  of  monarchs,  savants,  popes,  philosophers,  divines, 
councils  and  synods, — is  the  humble  house  in  Hydesville,  occupied,  in  1847,  by  Mr. 
Michael  Weekman,  who,  at  different  times  that  year,  heard  rappings  upon  his  door, 


SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


341 


but  on  every  occasion  failed  to  discover 
any  person  present,  or  any  producing 
source  or  cause,  notwithstanding  the 
most  vigilant  watch  was  kept  up  and  the 
most  industrious  search  instituted,  by  the 
family  and  neighbors.  Under  these 
strange  and  uncomfortable  circumstances, 
Mr.  Weekman  left  the  premises,  which, 
however,  were  soon  tenanted  by  the  family 
of  Mr.  John  D.  Fox.  But,  so  far  from 
a  change  of  occupants  being  attended  by 
a  cessation  of  the  rappings,  the  very 
reverse  was  the  fact.  From  March,  1848, 
the  house  was  disturbed,  from  night  to 
night,  by  the  same  constantly  recurring 
sounds — rappings,  tappings,  knocks,  and 
even  shuffling  of  furniture, — and  which 
could  not  be  accounted  for  on  the  hypothe- 
sis of  natural  agency. 

Nor  were  these  knockings  now  con- 
fined to  the  door  of  the  house,  but  per- 
vaded every  part,  depriving  the  inmates 
of  their  regular  sleep.  In  this  state  of 
wakefulness,  and  the  source  of  the  noises 
appearing  to  be  in  close  proximity  to  the 
bed  occupied  by  two  of  the  Fox  girls,  it  is 
related  that  one  of  them,  some  ten  or 
eleven  years  of  age,  thought  she  would 
just  try  the  experiment,  .sportively,  of  re- 
sponding to  the  raps  by  as  close  and 
accurate  a  repetition  of  them  as  was  pos- 
sible with  her  fingers.  Her  efforts  were 
so  far  successful  as  to  elicit  reciprocal 
sounds  from  the  invisible  agency.  In  a 
little  while,  the  parties  were  enabled  to 
open  a  distinct  communication,  by  means 
of  the  following  simple  method,  and  with 
the  accompanying  results,  as  narrated  by 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Fishbough,  an  early  investi- 
gator of  the  phenomena.  After  mutual 
responses  had  been  opened,  one  of  the 
girls  said : 

"  Now  do  as  I  do  ;  count  1,  2,  3,  4,  5, 
6,"  at  the  same  time  striking  her  hands 
together,  the  girl  acting  more  in  sport, 
than  in  expectation  of  what  really  fol- 
lowed. The  same  number  of  raps  re- 
sponded, and  at  similar  intervals.  The 
mother  of  the  girls  then  said:  "Count 
ten ;  "  and  ten  distinct  raps  were  heard ; 
"Count  fifteen,"  and  that  number  of 


sounds  followed.  She  then  said,  "  Tell 
us  the  age  of  Cathy  (the  youngest  daugh- 
ter) by  rapping  one  for  each  year,"  and 
the  number  of  years  was  rapped  correctly. 
Then,  in  like  manner,  the  age  of  each 
of  the  other  children  was  by  request  in- 
dicated by  this  invisible  agent.  Startled 
and  somewhat  alarmed  by  these  manifes- 
tations of  intelligence,  Mrs.  Fox  asked  if 
it  was  a  human  being  who  was  making 
that  noise,  and  if  it  was,  to  manifest  the 
fact  by  making  the  same  noise.  There 
was  no  sound.  She  then  said,  "If  you 
are  a  spirit,  make  two  distinct  sounds." 
Two  raps  were  accordingly  heard.  The 
members  of  the  family  had  by  this  time 
all  left  their  beds,  and  the  house  was  again 
thoroughly  searched,  as  it  had  been  be- 
fore, but  without  discovering  anything 
that  could  explain  the  mystery  ;  and  after 
a  few  more  questions,  and  responses  by 
raps,  the  neighbors  were  called  in  to 
assist  in  further  efforts  to  trace  the  phe- 
nomenon to  its  cause  ;  but  these  persons 
were  no  more  successful  than  the  family 
had  been,  and  they  confessed  themselves 
thoroughly  confounded.  For  several  sub- 
sequent days  the  village  was  in  a  turmoil 
of  excitement,  and  multitudes  visited  the 
house,  heard  the  raps,  and  interrogated 
the  apparent  intelligence  which  controlled 
them,  but  without  obtaining  any  clue  to 
the  discovery  of  the  agent,  further  than 
its  own  persistent  declaration  that  it  was 
a  spirit.  About  three  weeks  after  these 
occurrences,  David,  a  son  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Fox,  went  alone  into  the  cellar  where 
the  raps  were  then  being  heard,  and  said, 
"  If  you  are  the  spirit  of  a  human  being, 
who  once  lived  on  the  earth,  can  you  rap 
the  letters  that  will  spell  your  name  ? 
and  if  so,  rap  now  three  times."  Three 
raps  were  promptly  given,  and  David  pro- 
ceeded to  call  the  alphabet,  writing  down 
the  letters  as  they  were  indicated,  and  the 
result  was  the  name  '  Charles  B.  Rosma,' 
a  name  quite  unknown  to  the  family,  and 
which  they  were  afterward  unable  to 
trace.  The  statement  was  in  like  manner 
obtained  from  the  invisible  intelligence, 
that  he  was  the  spirit  of  a  peddler  who  had 


342 


SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


been  murdered  in  that  house  some  years 
previous.  It  is  said  that,  at  first,  the  raps 
occurred  in  the  house  even  when  all  the 
members  of  the  family  were  absent,  but 
subsequently  they  occurred  only  in  the 
presence  of  the  two  younger  daughters, 
Catharine  and  Margaretta;  and,  on  the 
family  removing,  soon  after,  to  the  neigh- 
boring city  of  Rochester,  the  manifesta- 
tions still  accompanied  them ;  the  family 
took  up  their  abode  with  a  married  sis- 
ter, Mrs.  Fish,  who  subsequently  became 
celebrated  as  a  medium,  through  whom 
the  manifestations  were  exhibited. 

The  original  method  of  communication 
— the  spirit  language — it  would  appear, 
consisted  in  conveying  an  affirmative  by  a 


THE   MISSES  FOX. 


single  rap  (though  perhaps  emphasized 
by  more),  and  a  negative  was  indicated  by 
silence.  Five  raps  demanded  the  alpha- 
bet, and  this  could  be  called  over  by  the 
living  voice,  or  else  in  a  printed  form  laid 
upon  a  table,  and  the  finger  or  a  pencil 
slowly  passed  along  it — when,  on  arriving 
at  the  required  letter,  a  rap  was  heard ; 
the  querist  then  recommenced,  until  words 
and  sentences  were  spelled  out — upon  the 
accuracy  or  intelligence  displayed  in 
which,  depended,  in  a  great  degree,  the 
amount  of  faith  popularly  accorded  to  the 
manifestations.  It  was  with  this  key,  the 
conception  of  which  as  adapted  to  the 
mastery  of  the  strange  phenomenon  is 
utterly  incomprehensible,  that  the  above 


information  was  evoked  from  the  mur- 
dered peddler,  who  also  further  stated  that 
the  number  of  the  years  of  his  fleshly  pil- 
grimage had  been  thirty-one  ;  that  he  had 
been  murdered  in  that  house,  and  buried 
in  the  cellar ;  and  that  the  murderer  was 
alive,  as  were  also  the  children  of  Rosma, 
hia  victim. 

Such  revelations  as  these,  which,  as 
soon  as  received  by  the  interlocutors,  were 
freely  given  to  the  world,  excited  pro- 
digious interest,  far  and  near.  The  cel- 
lar was  dug  to  a  great  depth,  to  discover, 
if  possible,  some  evidence  of  murder  hav- 
ing been  committed ;  the  premises  and 
neighborhood  examined  with  great  thor- 
oughness ;  and  inquiries  made  in  all 
directions.  But  all  these  efforts 
failed  to  elicit  any  disclosure  of 
fact  or  circumstance,  bearing  in  the 
slightest  degree  upon  such  a  trans- 
action. 

At  length,  on  the  fourteenth  of 
November,  1849,  in  accordance,  as 
was  said,  with  directions  from  '  the 
spirits,'  a  public  lecture  on  the 
origin  and  character  of  the  mani- 
festations was  given  in  Corinthian 
Hall,  Rochester,  at  which  the  '  me- 
diums '  were  present.  Manifesta- 
tions were  had,  and  a  committee 
was  chosen  from  the  audience  to 
make  thorough  examination  into 
their  nature  and  origin,  and  report 
at  an  adjourned  meeting  the  next  even- 
ing. 

Intense  interest  was  felt  in  regard  to 
the  result  of  this  committee's  proceedings, 
and  in  due  time  their  report  was  made  to  a 
crowded  and  breathless  assembly.  In  this 
report,  the  committee  stated  that  they 
had  made  such  investigations  as  seemed 
necessary  and  practicable ;  that  the  me- 
diums had  apparently  afforded  every 
facility  for  the  most  minute  and  ample 
examination ;  but  that  they — the  com- 
mittee— had  utterly  failed  to  discover  in 
what  manner  the  mysterious  sounds  or 
raps  were  produced,  or  what  was  their 
cause  or  origin,  there  being  no  visible 
agency  whatever  to  which,  by  any  process 


SPIEITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


343 


of  ordinary  reasoning,  the  phenomena 
could  be  attributed. 

Other  committees  of  gentlemen  arrived 
at  the  same  conclusion  ;  whereupon  a  com- 
mittee of  ladies  was  appointed,  who  took 
the  young  lady  mediums  into  a  private 
room  of  a  hotel  to  which  they  were 
strangers,  and  there  disrobed  and  searched 
them.  The  mediums  were  then  made  to 
stand  on  pillows,  with  handkerchiefs  tied 
tightly  around  their  ankles.  The  raps 
were  repeated,  and  intelligent  answers  to 
unpremeditated  questions  were  rapped  in 
the  usual  way. 

But  the  manifestations  — '  spiritual ' 
manifestations,  as  they  were  now,  and 
have  since  continued  to  be,  called — were 
not  long  confined  to  the  Fox  family.  In- 
deed, so  rapid  and  wide-spread  was  the 
development  of  the  phenomena,  that,  in 


D.   D.   HOME. 


the  short  space  of  two  or  three  years,  it 
was  calculated  that  the  number  of  recog- 
nized "  media  "  practicing  in  various  parts 
of  the  United  States,  was  not  less  than 
thirty  thousand. 

Various  theories  continued  to  be  pro- 
pounded as  from  the  first,  though  now 
more  learned  and  scientific,  in  explanation 
of  the  moving  of  tables  and  other  pon- 
derable substances  and  objects,  as  well  as 
the  knockings.  Concerning  the  latter,  it 
has  been  argued  that,  in  spiritualism,  it  is 
the  mind  of  the  person  charging  the 
medium  who  exhibits  all  the  intelligence — 
or  it  may  be  some  one  en  rapport  after  the 
medium  has  been  charged  to  that  degree 
that  the  electricity  overflows  in  raps,  and 


these  raps  are  of  the  same  character  as 
detonations  of  electricity  when  a  positive 
and  negative  cloud  meet  in  mid  air  and 
produce  thunder. 

Another  theory  of  the  cause  of  the  rap- 
pings  is  that  of  a  too  great  redundancy  of 
electricity  congregated  upon  the  involun- 
tary nerves,  through  passivity  of  mind, 
and  thus  imparting  to  them  extraordinary 
force. 

The  theory  presented  with  such  philo- 
sophical ability  by  Professor  Mahan,  is, 
that  there  is  in  nature  a  power,  termed, 
scientifically,  the  odylic  or  mesmeric  force, 
which  is  identical  with  the  cause  of  all  the 
mesmeric  and  clairvoyant  phenomena,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  with  the  immediate 
cause  of  these  manifestations,  on  the  other ; 
that  by  reference  to  the  properties  and 
laws  of  this  force  as  developed  in  the  spirit 
circles,  and  to  its  relations  to  the  minds 
constituting  the  same,  every  kind  of  spirit 
phenomena  can  be  most  fully  accounted 
for,  without  the  supposition  of  the  presence 
or  agency  of  disembodied  spirits ;  and  that 
the  entire  real  facts  of  spiritualism  demand 
the  supposition  that  this  force,  in  the  pro- 
duction of  these  communications,  is  con- 
trolled exclusively,  for  the  most  part 
unconsciously,  by  the  minds  in  the  circles, 
and  not  by  disembodied  spirits  out  of  the 
same. 

As  indicating  most  clearly,  according  to 
this  theory,  the  presence  and  action  of  an 
invisible  but  purely  physical  cause  —  a 
cause  connected  with  the  organism  of  par- 
ticular individuals,  its  advocates  do  not 
hesitate  to  cite  all  the  various  wonders  of 
spiritual  manifestation,  whether  mental  or 
material,  not  excepting  the  astonishing 
occurrences  which  transpired  in  Stamford, 
Conn.,  in  1850,  and  which  made  the  name 
of  the  occupant  of  the  house,  Eev.  Dr. 
Phelps,  for  a  long  time  so  famous  through- 
out the  land.  In  this  case,  the  phenomena 
consisted  in  the  moving  of  articles  of  fur- 
niture in  a  manner  not  only  unaccounta- 
ble, but  baffling  all  description. 

By  Professor  Agassiz,  the  knockings 
and  rappings  were,  from  the  very  first, 
pronounced  a  delusion ;  an  opinion  shared, 


344 


SPIKITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


perhaps,  by  the  whole  body  of  learned 
men  in  the  country.  Professor  Faraday, 
of  England,  claimed  to  demonstrate  that  it 
is  by  physical  power,  and  not  by  any  mag- 
netic fluid,  that  tables  move  on  being 
pressed  by  the  fingers.  Herschel  sug- 
gested that  there  might  be  a  fluid  which 
served  to  convey  the  orders  of  the  brain  to 
the  muscles. 

Suffice  it  to  add,  that,  as  no  authority 
in  respect  to  these  phenomena  is  held  in 
higher  repute  among  the  disciples  of  the 
new  system,  than  that  of  Mr.  Andrew 
Jackson  Davis,  the  Poughkeepsie  seer,  his 
opinion  that  the  producing  agencies,  in  the 
moving  of  tables  and  other  inorganic  sub- 
stances by  spirits,  are  terrestrial  magnet- 
ism and  electricity,  may  be  cited  as  rep- 
resenting the  views  of  a  large  portion, 
probably,  of  the  spiritualists  in  this 
country. 

The  variety  of  phenomena  known  by  the 
general  term  of  '  spiritual  manifestations,' 
is  very  numerous.  Some  of  the  principal, 
as  enumerated  by  Mr.  Ballou  under  five 
several  distinctions,  and  which  is  perhaps 
as  fair  and  complete  an  exposition  as  the 
literature  of  spiritualism  affords,  are  the 
following : — 

First — making  peculiar  noises,  indica- 
tive of  more  or  less  intelligence,  such  as 
knockings,  rappings,  jarrings,  creakings, 
tickings,  imitation  of  many  sounds  known 
in  the  different  vicissitudes  of  human  life, 
musical  intonations,  and,  in  rare  instances, 
articulate  speech.  Some  of  these  various 
sounds  are  very  loud,  distinct,  and  forcible ; 
others  are  low,  less  distinct,  and  more 
gentle,  but  all  audible  realities. 

Second — the  moving  of  material  sub- 
stances, with  like  indications  of  intelli- 
gence, such  as  tables,  sofas,  light-stands, 
chairs,  and  various  other  articles,  shaking, 
tipping,  sliding,  raising  them  clear  of  the 
floor,  placing  them  in  new  positions,  (all 
this  sometimes  in  spite  of  athletic  and 
heavy  men  doing  their  utmost  to  hold 
them  down ;)  taking  up  the  passive  body  of 
a  person,  and  carrying  it  from  one  position 
to  another  across  the  room,  through  mid- 
air ;  opening  and  shutting  doors ;  thrum- 


ming musical  instruments ;  undoing  well- 
clasped  pocket-books,  taking  out  their 
contents,  and  then,  by  request,  replacing 
them  again  ;  writing  with  pens,  pencils, 
and  other  substances,  both  liquid  and  solid 
— sometimes  on  paper,  sometimes  on  com- 
mon slates,  and  sometimes  on  the  ceilings 
of  a  room,  etc. 

Third — causing  catalepsy,  trance,  clair- 
voyance, and  various  involuntary  muscu- 
lar, nervous,  and  mental  activity  in  medi- 
ums, independent  of  any  will  or  conscious 
psychological  influence  by  men  in  the  flesh, 
and  then  through  such  mediums,  speak- 
ing, writing,  preaching,  lecturing,  philoso- 
phizing, prophesying,  etc. 

Fourth  —  presenting  apparitions:  in 
some  instances,  of  a  spirit  hand  and  arm  ; 
in  others,  of  the  whole  human  form ;  and 
in  others,  of  several  deceased  persons  con- 
versing together  ;  causing  distinct  touches 
to  be  felt  by  the  mortal  living,  grasping 
and  shaking  their  hands,  and  giving  many 
other  sensible  demonstrations  of  their 
existence. 

Fifth — through  these  various  manifes- 
tations communicating  to  men  in  the  flesh 
numberless  affectionate  and  intelligent 
assurances  of  an  immortal  existence,  mes- 
sages of  consolation,  and  annunciations  of 
distant  events  unknown  at  the  time,  but 
subsequently  corroborated ;  predictions  of 
forthcoming  occurrences  subsequently  ver- 
ified, forewarnings  against  impending 
danger,  medicinal  prescriptions  of  great 
efficacy,  wholesome  reproofs,  admonitions, 
and  counsels,  expositions  of  spiritual,  theo- 
logical, religious,  moral,  and  philosophical 
truths  appertaining  to  the  present  and 
future  states,  and  important  to  human  wel- 
fare in  every  sphere  of  existence,  some- 
times comprised  in  a  single  sentence,  and 
sometimes  in  an  ample  book. 

It  is  taught  by  writers  on  spiritualism, 
that  it  is  a  grand  religious  reformation, 
designed  and  destined  to  correct  theologi- 
cal errors,  to  remove  sectarian  barriers, 
and  to  excite  more  warmly  the  religious 
element  among  mankind.  This  claim  is 
denied  by  those  opposed  to  the  movement, 
who  charge  it  as  aiming,  or  tending,  to  do 


SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


345 


away  with  the  Bible,  to  overthrow  Chris- 
tianity, and  destroy  the  Church  and  its 
institutions,  —  indeed,  to  break  up  the 
whole  frame-work  of  society  as  at  present 
constituted.  The  discussion  has  engaged, 
in  the  press  and  pulpit,  and  oil  either  side, 
the  profoundest  adepts  in  theology,  science, 
and  philosophy  ;  and,  though  none  dispute 
that  fraud  and  imposture  have  played  their 


their  own  thoughts,  without  any  knowl- 
edge at  the  time,  on  his  part,  of  either 
ideas  or  subject ;  the  hand-writing  of  each 
was  unlike  that  of  the  other,  and,  though 
both  were  written  by  Dr.  Dexter's  hand, 
they  were  both  wholly  unlike  his,  and  this 
characterized  the  whole  of  the  volumin- 
ous communications,  according  to  these 
authors'  statement. 


CORA  L.  T.   HATCH. 


A.  J.   DAVI8. 


JTTDGE  EDMONDS. 


part,  in  multitudes  of  instances,  in  con- 
nection with  the  matter,  it  is  admitted 
that  the  phenomena,  under  reputable 
auspices,  exhibit  great,  novel,  and  aston- 
ishing facts. 

Since  the  initiation  of  the  movement,  or 
phenomena,  in  1847,  by  the  Misses  Fox, 
the  most  distinguished  mediums  have  been 
A.  J.  Davis,  D.  D.  Home,  Mrs.  Cora  L.  V. 
Hatch,  etc.,  etc. ;  the  most  widely  cele- 
brated authors,  A.  J.  Davis,  Judge  Ed- 
monds, and  George  T.  Dexter,  Adin  Ballou, 
and  some  others.  The  learned  work  bear- 
ing the  joint  authorship  of  Judge  Ed- 


monds and  Dr.  Dexter  is  generally  pro- 
nounced one  of  the  ablest  productions, 
devoted  to  the  philosophy  of  these  modern 
wonders.  A  notable  feature  in  the  con- 
tents of  this  work  are  the  alleged  communi- 
cations received  from  Sweden borg  and  Lord 
Bacon,  written,  in  their  own  hand-writing, 
from  the  spirit  world, — they  using  Dr. 
Dexter's  hand  as  the  instrument  to  convey 


The  different  kinds  of  mediums  are 
classified,  by  Judge  Edmonds,  into  those 
who  disturb  the  equanimity  of  material 
objects,  without  any  intelligence  being 
necessarily  or  usually  communicated 
through  them,  for  the  purpose  of  address- 
ing to  the  human  senses  the  idea  of  a 
physical  communion  with  a  power  out  of 
and  beyond  mere  mortal  agency;  con- 
nected with  this  class,  though  with  the 
addition  of  an  intelligent  communion 
between  the  mortal  and  the  invisible 
power,  are  the  mediums  for  table-tippings; 
another  class  consists  of  those  who  write, 


their  hands  being  affected  ty  a  power 
manifestly  beyond  their  own  control,  and 
not  emanating  from  or  governed  by  their 
own  will ;  a  fourth  species  are  speaking 
mediums,  some  of  whom  speak  when  in 
the  trance  state*  and  some  when  in  their 


346 


SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS  AND  TABLE-TIPPINGS. 


normal  or  natural  condition,  in  which 
cases  the  invisible  intelligence  seems  to 
take  possession  of  the  mind  of  the  medium, 
and  compel  the  utterance  of  its  ideas, 
sometimes  in  defiance  of  the  will  of  the 
mortal  through  whom  it  is  talking ; 
impressible  mediums  are  those  who  re- 
ceive impressions  in  their  minds  to 
which  they  give  utterance,  either  by 
writing  or  speaking,  their  faculties  be- 
ing entirely  under  their  own  control ;  still 
another  class  are  those  who  see,  or  seem 


to  see,  the  objects  presented  to  their  con- 
sideration. 

In  all  the  nations  of  Europe,  Asia,  and 
Africa,  the  phenomena  of  spiritualism 
have  become  widely  prevalent;  and,  only 
ten  years  subsequent  to  the  first  develop- 
ment, its  newspapers  estimated  the  number 
of  its  avowed  adherents  at  one  and  a  half 
million,  with  one  thousand  public  advo- 
cates, forty  thousand  public  and  private 
mediums,  and  a  literature  of  five  hundred 
different  works. 


XLIII. 

GENERAL    SCOTT    IN    THE    HALLS    OF    THE    MONTEZU- 
MAS,   AS   THE   CONQUEROR   OF   MEXICO.— 1847. 


General  Taylor's  Unbroken  Series  of  Victorious  Battles,  from  Palo  Alto  to  Buena  Vista.— Flight  of 
Santa  Anna  in  the  Dead  of  Midnight — The  Stars  and  Stripes  Float  Triumphantly  from  the  Towers 
of  the  National  Palace. — First  Foreign  Capital  Ever  Occupied  by  the  United  States  Army. — Peace 
on  the  Invaders'  Own  Terms. — Original  Irritation  between  the  Two  Powers. — Disputed  Points  of 
Boundary. — Mexico  Refuses  to  Yield. — General  Taylor  Sent  to  the  Rio  Grande. — A  Speedy  Collision. 
— Declaration  of  War  by  Congress. — Santa  Anna  Leads  the  Mexicans. — Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and 
Resaca  de  la  Palma. — Raging  Fight  at  Monterey  :  Its  Fall. — Santa  Anna's  War-like  Summons — It  is 
Treated  with  Contempt. — His  Awful  Defeat  at  Buena  Vista. — Doniphan's  March  of  Five  Thousand 
Miles. — Vera  Cruz,  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  Churubusco,  etc. — Scott's  Order,  "  On  to  Mexico  ! " — 
Huzzas  and  a  Quickstep.— Terrific  Storming  of  Chapultepec. — Scott  Holds  the  Key  to  Mexico. — 
The  Last  Obstacle  Overcome. — Grand  Entrance  of  the  Victors. — Territorial  Gain  to  the  United  States. 


••  Under  the  favor  of  God,  the  valor  of  this  army,  after  many  glorious  victories,  has  hoisted  the  flag  of  our  country  in  the  Capital  of  Mex- 
too,  and  on  the  Palace  of  it*  Government."— GE.VEKAL  SCOTT  TO  1113  ARur,  SEPTEMBER  14th. 


v^X%\, 


J         STORMIXG  OF  CHAPITLTEPEC. 

•  HIEFLY,  if  not  solely,  owing  ^ 
'    ••  to  the  annexation  of  Texas 

to  the  United  States,  war  broke  out  between 
this  country  and  Mexico,  in  1846,  under  proc-  ""'^WA^ 

lamation  by  President  Polk,  in  pursuance  of  formal  declar-  "" 
ation  of  hostilities  in  May  of  that  year,  promulgated  by 
congress.     Claiming  Texas  as  a  portion  of  its  own  domain, 
Mexico  had  sturdily  resisted  its  separation  from  her  con- 
trol, either  as  an  independent  power,  or  as  a  portion  of  the 
»  United  States.     But,  being  forced,  finally,  to  yield  these  points, 
fresh  troubles  soon  succeeded,  arising  from  the  disputed  question  of 
boundary.     Mexico  claimed  to  the  Neuces,  and  the  United  States  '\^.- 
to  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte.     Santa  Anna,  then  at  the  head  of  jj 
Mexican  affairs,  insisted   on   the  vigorous  assertion  of   Mexico's ' 


348       GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS. 


claims,  and  military  force  was  brought  into 
requisition  to  this  end.  It  was  this  pro- 
ceeding, as  alleged,  that  induced  counter 
military  movements  on  the  part  of  the 
United  States,  under  the  lead  of  General 
Taylor,  and  in  a  short  time  collision  and 
open  war  followed,  the  belligerents  putting 
their  best  armies  and  officers  into  the  field, 
the  contest  finally  culminating  in  the  occu- 
pancy of  the  Mexican  capital  by  a  victori- 
ous army  under  General  Scott,  and  in  the 
signing  of  a  treaty  by  which  the  United 
States  came  into  possession — for  a  mere 
nominal  pecuniary  equivalent  —  of  the 
whole  of  Texas,  New  Mexico,  and  Upper 
California. 

The  principal  battles  and  other  military 
movements  which  rendered  this  conflict 
memorable,  were  tbe  siege  of  Fort  Brown, 


the  battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Eesaca  de  la 
Palma,  the  fall  of  Monterey,  the  battle  of 
Buena  Vista,  Doniphan's  expedition  to 
Chihuahua  and  march  of  five  thousand 
miles,  the  reduction  of  Vera  Cruz,  the  bat- 
tles of  Cerro  Gordo,  Contreras,  and  Chu- 
rubusco,  the  storming  of  Chapultepec,  and 
the  entrance  of  Scott  into  the  halls  of 
the  Montezumas,  as  the  conqueror  of  the 
enemy's  chief  city, — the  first  instance  of  a 
foreign  capital  being  entered  by  the  army 
of  the  United  States.  The  latter  event, 
and  the  battle  of  Buena  Vista,  formed  the 
most  important  movements  during  the 
campaign,  and  have  earned  a  conspicuous 


place — as  have  also  their  heroes,  Taylor, 
and  Scott, — in  American  military  history. 
It  was  on  the  twenty-second  of  February, 
1847,  that  Taylor  made  those  final  dispo- 
sitions of  his  troops  that  ended  in  the  fa- 
mous victory  of  Buena  Vista,  and  which, 
in  the  brief  lapse  of  three  years  thereafter, 
carried  the  victor  to  the  presidential  chair, 
as  chief  magistrate  of  the  United  States. 

The  first  evidence  directly  afforded  the 
United  States  troops  of  the  presence  of 
Santa  Anna,  was  a  white  flag,  dimly  seen 
fluttering  in  the  breeze,  and  which  proved, 
on  the  arrival  of  its  bearer,  to  be  what  the 
Americans  ironically  termed  a  benevolent 
missive  from  Santa  Anna,  proposing  to 
General  Taylor  terms  of  unconditional  sur- 
render ;  promising  good  treatment ;  stat- 
ing that  his  force  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  men  ;  that  the  defeat  of  the 
invaders  was  inevitable,  and  that,  to 
spare  the  effusion  of  blood,  his  propo- 
sition should  be  complied  with. 

But,  strange  to  say,  the  American 
general  showed  the  greatest  ingrati- 
tude ;  evinced  no  appreciation  what- 
ever of  Santa  Anna's  kindness,  and 
informed  him,  substantially,  that 
whether  his  force  amounted  to  twenty 
thousand  or  fifty  thousand,  it  was 
equally  a  matter  of  indifference — the 
terms  of  adjustment  must  be  ar- 
ranged by  gunpowder.  Santa  Anna's 
rage  at  this  response  to  his  conceited 
summons  was  at  the  boiling  point. 

Skirmishing  continued  until  night- 
fall, and  was  renewed  at  an  early  hour  the 
next  morning,  the  struggle  deepening  in  in- 
tensity as  the  day  advanced,  until  the  battle 
raged  with  great  fury  along  the  entire  line. 
After  various  successes  and  reverses,  the 
fortunes  of  the  day  showed  on  the  side  of 
the  Americans.  Santa,  Anna  saw  the 
crisis,  and  true  to  his  instincts,  sought  to 
avert  the  result  by  craft  and  cunning.  He 
sent  a  white  flag  to  General  Taylor,  in- 
quiring, in  substance,  "  what  he  wanted."  • 
This  was  at  once  believed  to  be  a  mere 
ruse  to  gain  time  and  re-collect  his  men ; 
but  the  American  general  thought  fit  to 
notice  it,  and  General  Wool  was  deputed 


GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS.       349 


to  meet  the  representative  of  Santa  Anna, 
and  to  say  to  him  that  what  was  "  wanted  " 
was  peace.  Before  the  interview  could  be 
had,  the  Mexicans  treacherously  re-opened 
their  fires.  The  flag,  however,  had  accoin- 


plished  the  ends  which  its  wily  originator 
designed — a  re-enforcement  of  his  cavalry 
during  the  parley, — and,  with  his  courage 
thus  restored,  he  determined  to  charge 
Taylor's  line.  Under  cover  of  their  artil- 
lery, horse  and  foot  advanced  upon  the 
American  batteries,  the  latter,  against  all 
disadvantages,  nobly  maintaining  their  po- 
sitions, by  the  most  brilliant  and  daring 
efforts.  Such  was  the  rapidity  of  their 
transitions  that  officers  and  pieces  seemed 
empowered  with  ubiquity,  and  upon  cav- 
alry and  infantry  alike,  wherever  they 
appeared,  they  poured  so  destructive  a  fire 
as  to  silence  the  enemy's  artillery,  compel 
his  whole  line  to  fall  back,  and  soon  to 
assume  a  sort  of  subdued  movement,  indi- 
cating anything  but  victory. 

Again,  the  spirits  of  Taylor's  troops  rose 
high.  The  Mexicans  appeared  thoroughly 
routed;  and  while  their  regiments  and 
divisions  were  flying  in  dismay,  nearly  all 
the  American  light  troops  were  ordered 
forward,  and  followed  them  with  a  most 
terrible  fire,  mingled  with  shouts  which 
rose  above  the  roar  of  artillery.  The  pur- 
suit, however,  was  too  hot,  and,  as  it 
evinced,  too  clearly,  the  smallness  of  the 
pursuing  force,  the  Mexicans,  with  a  sud- 


denness which  was  almost  magical,  rallied, 
and  turned  back  with  furious  onset.  They 
came  in  myriads,  and  for  a  while  the  car- 
nage was  dreadful  on  both  sides,  though 
there  was  but  a  handful  to  oppose  to  the 
frightful  masses  so  rapidly  hurled  into  the 
combat,  and  which  could  no  more  be  re- 
sisted than  could  an  avalanche  of  thunder- 
bolts. "  All  is  lost !  "  was  the  cry — or  at 
least  the  thought — of  many  a  brave  Amer- 
ican, at  this  crisis. 

Thrice  during  the  day,  when  all  seemed 
lost  but  honor,  did  the  artillery,  by  the 
ability  with  which  it  was  maneuvered,  roll 
back  the  tide  of  success  from  the  enemy, 
and  give  such  overwhelming  destructive- 
ness  to  its  effect,  that  the  army  was  saved 
and  the  glory  of  the  American  arms  main- 
tained. 

The  battle  had  now  raged  with  variable 
success  for  nearly  ten  hours,  and,  by  a  sort 
of  mutual  consent,  after  the  last  carnage 
wrought  among  the  Mexicans  by  the  artil- 
lery, both  parties  seemed  willing  to  pause 
upon  the  result.  Night  fell.  Santa  Anna 
had  been  repulsed  at  all  points  ;  and  ere 
the  sun  rose  'again  upon  the  scene,  the 
Mexicans  had  disappeared,  leaving  behind 
them  only  the  hundreds  of  their  dead  and 
dying,  whose  bones  were  to  whiten  their 
native  hills.  The  loss  was  great  on  both 
sides,  in  this  long,  desperate,  and  sanguin- 
ary conflict,  the  force  of  the  Mexicans  be- 
ing as  five  to  one  of  the  Americans. 

Santa  Anna  was  bold  and  persevering, 
and  turned  Taylor's  left  flank  by  the 
mountain  paths  with  a  large  force,  when 
all  seemed  to  be  lost.  But  the  light  artil- 
lery and  the  mounted  men  saved  the  day. 
Throughout  the  action  General  Taylor  was 
where  shots  fell  hottest  and  thickest,  two 
of  which  passed  through  his  clothes.  He 
constantly  evinced  the  greatest  quickness 
of  perception,  fertility  of  resource,  and  a 
cool,  unerring  judgment  not  to  be  baffled. 

One  of  the  bravest  deeds  of  this  struggle 
was  that  performed  by  Major  Dix,  who, 
when  the  air  was  rent  with  shouts  of 
triumph  from  the  enemy,  over  the  inglori- 
ous flight  of  an  Indiana  regiment,  dashed 
off  in  pursuit  of  the  deserters,  and  seizing 


350      GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS. 


the  colors  of  the  regiment  as  he  reached 
them,  appealed  to  the  men  to  know 
whether  they  had  determined  thus  to  turn 
their  backs  upon  their  country !  He  was 
answered  by  three  cheers.  A  portion  of 
the  regiment  immediately  rallied  around 
him,  and  was  reformed  by  the  officers. 
Dix,  in  person,  then  led  them  towards  the 
enemy,  until  one  of  the  men  volunteered 
to  take  the  flag. 

Admiration  and  honor  were  showered 
upon  Taylor,  who  had  thus,  with  his  little 
army  of  between  four  and  five  thousand 
men,  met  and  completely  vanquished 
Santa  Anna,  the  greatest  of  Mexican  sol- 


diers,  with  his  army  of  twenty  thousand. 
It  was  a  contest  which,  with  his  other  vic- 
torious battles  at  Palo  Alto,  Kesaca  de  la 
Palma,  and  Monterey,  covered  the  hitherto 
almost  unknown  name  of  Taylor  with  a 
halo  of  glory  from  one  end  of  the  land  to 
the  other;  gave  immense  prestige  to 
American  arms ;  and  created,  perhaps  too 
largely,  the  feeling  that  the  conquering 
party  might  now  go  on  and  overrun  the 
country,  and  dictate  its  own  terms  of  peace. 
But  there  were  strong  positions  yet  to  be 
mastered,  and  gory  fields  yet  to  be  won, 
before  that  most  of  all  coveted  achieve- 
ment— the  capture  and  occupation  of  the 
Mexican  capital — was  to  crown  the  suc- 


cesses of  the  invaders  and  prove  that  the 
enemy's  country  was  at  their  mercy. 

As  events  proved,  the  last  named  great 
act  in  this  military  drama  was  reserved 
for  General  Scott,  who  had  been  appointed 
by  the  government  at  Washington,  su- 
preme commander  of  the  army  in  Mexico. 
Taylor  had  led  the  way,  by  his  splendid 
movements  and  victories,  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  all  that  yet  remained  to  be 
done.  Vera  Cruz,  the  key  to  the  Mexican 
capital,  with  the  almost  impregnable  fort- 
ress of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  soon  fell  into 
the  hands  of  the  Americans,  after  a  terri- 
bly destructive  cannonade.  A  similar  fate 
befell  nearly  all  the  principal  ports. 
Again  was  Santa  Anna  defeated  on 
the  embattled  heights  of  Cerro 
Gordo,  in  which  tremendous  strong- 
hold he  had  attempted  with  fifteen 
thousand  men,  but  in  vain,  to  op- 
pose Scott,  who  had  only  six  thou- 
sand. To  this  succeeded  the  battle 
of  Contreras,  in  which  the  Mexi- 
cans, led  by  General  Valencia,  who 
had  an  army  of  some  eight  thou- 
sand, were  routed  with  terrible 
slaughter,  by  Gen.  P.  F.  Smith. 
In  a  few  months  from  this  time, 
the  plains  of  Churubusco  witnessed 
another  battle,  the  deadly  carnage 
and  mortal  results  of  which,  no 
pen  could  adequately  portray,  the 
Americans  taking  possession  of 
every  point,  as  triumphant  victors. 
The  prize  was  not  yet  won,  but  orders 
were  in  due  time  given  by  General  Scott 
to  march  to  the  capital.  Deafening  cheers 
and  a  quickstep  greeted  this  order,  on  its 
promulgation.  Two  strong  positions  of 
the  enemy  were,  however,  yet  to  be  over- 
come, namely,  that  of  Moliuo  del  Rey,  and 
the  strong  castle  of  Chapultepec,  before 
the  city  could  be  reached.  The  first- 
named  was  captured  by  General  Worth, 
after  a  most  bloody  fight,  and  with  the 
loss  of  nearly  one-fourth  of  his  men,  the 
latter  having  at  last  found  it  necessary  to 
burst  open  an  entrance,  and  with  the  bay- 
onet to  meet  the  enemy  hand  to  hand. 
New  and  more  terrible  struggles  wer» 


GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS.      351 


soon  to  take  place.  On  the  eleventh  of 
September,  the  cavalry  were  ordered  to 
make  a  movement  on  the  sloping  plains 
above  Chapultepec  and  Tacubaya,  and 
attack,  if  possible,  the  latter  place.  How- 
ever, the  enemy  kept  a  diligent  look-out, 
and  no  sooner  did  the  cavalry  begin  to 
move  our  of  town  than  their  scouts  ap- 
peared upon  the  spot,  and,  soon  after,  a 
small  force  appeared  to  dispute  the  ap- 
proach. 

On  the  twelfth,  the  cannon  began  to 
roar  again,  south  and  west,  at  the  garita 
of  San  Antonio  and  Chapultepec,  but  it 
soon  became  evident  to  them  where  the 
real  attack  was  intended,  for  on  the  south 
side  the  fire  was  slackened,  and  after  a 


time  it  left  off  altogether — while,  on  the 
west  it  grew  more  and  more  violent,  until, 
at  about  eight  o'clock,  the  Americans 
opened  their  battery  of  mortars  upon  the 
castle,  and  began  to  throw  shell  with  terri- 
ble precision. 

General  Pillow's  approach,  on  the  west 
side,  lay  through  an  open  grove,  filled  with 
sharpshooters,  who  were  speedily  dis- 
lodged ;  when,  being  up  with  the  front  of 
the  attack,  and  emerging  into  open  space, 
at  the  foot  of  a  rocky  acclivity,  that  gal- 
lant leader  was  struck  down  by  an  agoniz- 
ing wound.  The  broken  acclivity  was  still 
to  be  ascended,  and  a  strong  redoubt, 
midway,  to  be  carried,  before  reaching  the 
castle  on  the  heights.  The  advance  of  the 


brave  men,  led  by  brave  officers,  though 
necessarily  slow,  was  unwavering,  over 
rocks,  chasms,  and  mines,  and  under  the 
hottest  fire  of  cannon  and  musketry.  The 
redoubt  now  yielded  to  resistless  valor. 

Shout  after  shout  rung  wildly  through 
the  victorious  ranks  of  the  assailants, 
announcing  to  the  castle  the  fate  that 
impended.  The  Mexicans  were  steadily 
driven  from  shelter  to  shelter.  The  re- 
treat allowed  no  time  to  fire  a  single  mine, 
without  the  certainty  of  blowing  up  friend 
and  foe.  Those  who,  at  a  distance,  at- 
tempted to  apply  matches  to  the  long 
trains,  were  shot  down  by  the  Americans. 
There  was  death  below  as  well  as  above 
ground.  At  length  the  ditch  and  wall  of 
the  main  work  were  reached,  and  the 
scaling-ladders  were  brought  up  and 
planted  by  the  storming  parties.  Some  of 
the  daring  spirits  in  the  assault  were  cast 
down,  killed  or  wounded ;  but  a  lodgment 
was  soon  made,  streams  of  heroes  followed, 
all  opposition  was  overcome,  and  several  of 
the  regimental  colors  were  flung  out  from 
the  upper  walls,  amid  long  continued 
shouts  and  cheers.  All  this  sent  dismay 
into  the  capital.  To  the  Americans,  no 
scene  could  have  been  more  animating  or 
glorious. 

General  Quitman  performed  a  distin- 
guished part  in  these  movements,  nobly 
sustained  by  his  officers  and  men. 
Simultaneously  with  the  movement  on 
the  west,  he  gallantly  approached  the 
south-east  of  the  same  works  over  a  cause- 
way with  cuts  and  batteries,  and  defended 
by  an  army  strongly  posted  outside,  to  the 
east  of  the  works.  These  formidable 
obstacles  had  to  be  faced,  with  but  little 
shelter  for  troops  or  space  for  maneuvering. 
Deep  ditches,  flanking  the  causeway, 
made  it  difficult  to  cross  on  either  side  into 
the  adjoining  meadows  ;  and  these,  again, 
were  intersected  by  other  ditches.  The 
storming  party,  however,  carried  two 
batteries  that  were  in  the  road,  took  some 
guns,  with  many  prisoners,  and  drove  the 
enemy  posted  behind  in  support;  they 
then  crossed  the  meadows  in  front,  under 
a  heavy  fire,  and  entered  the  outer 


3fi2      GENEKAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS. 


GENERAL  SCOTT  IN  THE  HALLS  OF  THE  MONTEZUMAS.      353 


inclosure  of  Chapultepec  just  in  time  to 
join  in  the  final  assault  from  the  west. 
Captain  Barnard,  of  the  voltgeur  regiment, 
was  the  first  to  plant  a  regimental  color. 

During  the  period  covered  by  these 
exciting  scenes,  the  firing  in  and  about 
the  castle  had  three  times  apparently 
reached  its  crisis  or  climax,  and  then 
suddenly  slackened,  inducing  the  belief  in 
some  quarters  that  the  assault  had  been 
beaten  off;  but,  at  about  half-past  nine 
o'clock  the  Mexican  flag  suddenly  disap- 
peared, a  blue  flag  was  shown,  and  directly 
after  the  stars  and  stripes  arose  and  waved 
over  the  conquered  fortress.  Immediately 
after  having  taken  the  place,  the  Americans 
hauled  down  the  light  field-pieces  from  the 
castle,  and  fired  them  upon  the  retreating 
enemy,  upon  whose  heels  they  closely 
followed.  The  firing  came  nearer,  and  at 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the 
innermost  intrenchments  began  to  open 
their  fire,  and  balls  to  whistle  in  the  town. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  forces  of 
Worth  and  Quitman — the  former  proceed- 
ing by  the  San  Cosme  aqueduct,  and  the 
latter  along  that  of  Belen.  Scott  joined 
the  advance  of  Worth,  within  the  suburb, 
and  beyond  the  turn  at  the  junction  of  the 
aqueduct  with  the  great  highway  from  the 
west  to  the  gate  of  San  Cosme.  In  a  short 
time,  the  troops  were  engaged  in  a  street 
fight  against  the  Mexicans  posted  in 
gardens,  at  windows,  and  on  housetops — 
all  flat,  with  parapets.  Worth  ordered 
forward  the  mountain  howitzers  of 
Cadwallader's  brigade,  preceded  by  skir- 
mishers and  pioneers,  with  pickaxes  and 
crowbars,  to  force  windows  and  doors,  or 
to  burrow  through  walls.  The  assailants 
were  soon  in  unequality  of  position  fatal 
to  the  enemy.  By  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Worth  had  carried  two  batteries 
in  this  suburb.  There  was  but  one  more 
obstacle,  the  San  Cosme  gate  (custom- 
house), between  him  and  the  great  square 
in  front  of  the  cathedral  and  palace — the 


heart  of  the  city.  There  was  a  lull  in  the 
firing,  and  already  the  inhabitants  were 
hoping  to  pass  a  quiet  night,  when 
suddenly  the  dull  roar  of  a  heavy  mortar 
resounded  close  by  the  town,  and  shells 
with  fiery  tails  came  with  portentous 
energy.  The  gallant  Quitman  pressed  on, 
regardless  of  gates,  batteries,  or  citadels, 
and  compelled  Santa  Anna  to  break  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  and  retreat  with 
all  his  force,  leaving  the  city  to  the  mercy 
of  the  victors.  He  turned  northward  to 
the  villa  of  Gaudaloupe,  and  after  a  short 
rest  retreated  on  to  San  Juan  de 
Teotihuacan. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  September  four- 
teenth, 1847,  the  first  American  column 
made  its  appearance  in  the  streets  of 
Mexico,  and  came  on  in  dense  masses 
through  the  principal  avenues — Calle  San 
Francisco,  del  Correo,  de  la  Professa,  and 
the  two  Plateros,  in  a  straight  line  from 
the  Alameda  up  to  the  palace  and  Plaza- 
Mayor.  The  Mexican  colors  now  disap- 
peared from  the  palace,  a  regimental  flag 
took  their  place,  and  directly  afterwards 
the  stars  and  stripes  were  flung  out  and 
waved  proudly  from  the  Halls  of  the 
Montezumas, — the  first  strange  banner 
that  had  ever  floated  from  that  palace 
since  the  conquest  of  Cortez. 

On  entering  the  palace,  one  of  General 
Scott's  first  acts  was  to  require  from  his 
comrades-in-arms,  their  thanks  and  grat- 
itude to  God,  both  in  public  and  pri- 
vate worship,  for  the  signal  triumphs 
which  they  had  achieved  for  their  coun- 
try ;  warning  them  also  against  disorders, 
straggling,  and  drunkenness. 

Thus  was  the  prowess  of  American  arms 
successfully  asserted,  the  conquered  nation 
being  also  compelled  to  cede  the  immenselj 
valuable  territory  of  New  Mexico  and 
Upper  California  to  the  United  States, 
and  accepting  the  lower  Rio  Grande,  from 
its  mouth  to  El  Paso,  as  the  boundary  of 
Texas. 


XLIV. 


EXPEDITION  TO   THE   RIVER  JORDAN  AND  THE  DEAD 
SEA,  BY  LIEUT.  W.  F.  LYNCH.— 1847. 


The  Sacred  River  Successfully  Circumnavigated  and  Surveyed. — Twenty  Days  and  Nights  Upon  the 
"  Sea  of  Death." — It  is  Explored,  and  Sounded,  and  Its  Mysteries  Solved. — Strange  Phenomena  and 
Unrelieved  Desolation  of  the  Locality.— Important  Results  to  Science. — Zeal  in  Geographical 
Research. — Interest  in  the  Holy  Land. — American  Inquiry  Aroused. — Equipment  of  Lynch's 
Expedition. — On  Its  Way  to  the  Orient — Anchoring  Under  Mount  Carmel. — Passage  Down 
the  Jordan. — It  is  Traced  to  Its  Source. — Wild  and  Impressive  Scenery. — Rose  Colored 
Clouds  of  Judea.— Configuration  of  the  Dead  Sea. — Dense,  Buoyant,  Briny  Waters. — Smarting  of  the 
Hands  and  Face. — Salt,  Ashes,  and  Sulphureous  Vapors,  etc. — Tradition  Among  the  Arabs. — Sad 
Kate  of  Former  Explorers. — Temperature  of  This  Sea. — Submerged  Plains  at  It«  Bottom.— Sheeted 
with  Phosphorescent  Foam. — Topography,  Width  and  Depth.— "Apples  of  Sodom"  Described.— 
The  Pillar  of  Salt,  Lot's  Wife. 


M  But  here,  abore.  around,  below. 

In  mountain  or  in  glen. 

Nor  tree,  nor  shrub,  nor  flower, 

Nor  aught  of  vegetative  power, 

The  weaned  eye  may  ken  ; 

But  all  its  rocks  at  random  thrown.— 

Black  waves. — bare  crags, — and  heaps  of  etone." 


'IELDING  to  the  earnest  desire  of  individuals  and   societies   interested  in  the 
advancement  of  geographical  science,  the  United  States  government  lent  its 
sanction  and  co-operative  aid  to  the  expedition  planned  in  1847,  by  Lieutenant 
W.  F.  Lynch,  an  accomplished  naval  officer,  for  the  exploration  and 
survey  of  the  Dead  Sea.     The  results  of  this  expedition,  so  replete 
with  information  of  the  most  important  and  deeply  interesting  charac- 
ter concerning  a  spot  so  singular  in  its  sacred  and  historic  associations, 
as  well  as  mysterious  in  its  physical  peculiarities,  fully  justified  the 
zeal  with  which  it  was  advocated  and  the  high  auspices  under  which  it 
embarked. 

The  names  of  those  whose  services  were  accepted  by  the  commander, 
as  members  of  the  expedition,  and  whose  qualifications  were  believed 
to  fit  them  peculiarly  for  the  undertaking,  were  as  follows:     Lieu- 
tenant, John   B.   Dale ;    passed-midshipman,   R.   Aulick ;    herbarist, 
Francis  E.  Lynch ;  master's  mate,  J.  C.  Thomas ;  navigators,  Messrs. 
Overstock,   Williams,  Homer,   Eead,   Eobinson,   Lee,  Lock- 
wood,  Albertson,  Loveland.     At  Constantinople,  Mr.  Henry 
Bedloe  associated  himself  with  the  expedition,  and,  on  their 

arrival  at  Beirut,  Dr.  H.  J.  Anderson  became  a  member  of  the  party,  making  the  num- 
ber sixteen  in  all.     The  services  of  an  intelligent  native  Syrian,  named  Ameung,  were 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


355 


also  obtained  at  Beirut,  who  acted  in  the 
capacity  of  interpreter,  and  rendered  other 
important  aid. 

By  direction  of  the  government  at 
Washington,  the  store-ship  Supply  was 
placed  at  the  disposal  of  Lieutenant  Lynch, 
and,  as  the  vessel  would  otherwise  be  in 
ballast,  she  was  laden  with  stores  for  the 
United  States  naval  squadron,  then  in  the 
Mediterranean. 

The  Supply  sailed  from  New  York, 
November  twenty-first,  and  in  about  three 
months  anchored  off  Smyrna.  From  the 
latter  place,  the  officers  of  the  expedition 
proceeded  to  Constantinople  in  the 
Austrian  steamer,  with  the  view  of  ob- 
taining from  the  Sultan,  through  the 
American  minister,  permission  to  pass 
through  a  part  of  his  dominions  in  Syria, 
for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  of  tracing  the  Jordan  to  its  source. 
The  reception  by  the  young  sultan  was  in 
all  respects  favorable;  the  authorization 
was  granted,  and  the  sultan  expressed 
much  interest  in  the  undertaking,  request- 
ing to  be  informed  of  the  results. 

Thus  armed  with  all  necessary  powers, 
the  officers  returned  to  Smyrna,  rejoining 
the  Supply.  On  the  tenth  of  March,  the 
expedition  sailed  for  the  coast  of  Syria, 
and,  after  touching  at  Beirut  and  other 
places,  came  to  anchor  in  the  Bay  of  Acre, 
urder  Mount  Carmel,  March  twenty- 
eighth.  The  explorers,  with  their  stores, 
tents,  and  boats,  having  landed,  an  en- 
campment was  formed  on  the  beach, 
and  the  Supply  departed  to  deliver  to  the 
naval  squadron  the  stores  with  which  it 
was  laden,  with  orders  to  be  back  in  time 
for  the  re-embarkation  of  the  exploring 
party. 

The  first  difficulty  of  a  practical  nature 
was  how  to  get  the  boats  across  to  the  Sea 
of  Tiberias.  The  boats,  mounted  on 
trucks,  were  laden  with  the  stores  and 
baggage  of  the  party,  and  all  was  arranged 
most  conveniently — only  the  horses  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  draw.  The  harness 
was  also  found  to  be  much  too  large  for 
the  small  Syrian  horses ;  and  although 
they  manifestly  gloried  in  the  strange 


equipment,  and  Toluntarily  performed 
sundry  gay  and  fantastic  movements,  the 
operation  of  pulling  was  altogether  averse 
to  their  habits  and  inclinations.  At  last, 
the  plan  suggested  itself  of  trying  camels. 
On  being  harnessed,  three  of  the  huge 
animals  to  each  truck,  they  marched  off 
with  the  trucks,  the  boats  upon  them, 
with  perfect  ease,  to  the  great  delight  of 
the  sojourners,  and  equal  astonishment  to 
the  natives. 

All  the  arrangements  being  now 
perfected,  the  travelers  took  their  de- 
parture from  the  coast,  on  the  fourth  of 
April.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  fine 
old  man,  an  Arab  nobleman,  called  Sherif 
Hazza,  of  Mecca,  the  thirty-third  lineal 
descendant  of  the  prophet.  As  he  ap- 
peared to  be  highly  venerated  by  the 
Arabs,  Lieutenant  Lynch  thought  it  would 
be  a  good  measure  to  induce  him  to  join 
the  party,  and  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
do  so.  Another  addition  to  the  party  was 
made  next  day  in  the  person  of  a  Bedouin 
sheikh  of  the  name  of  Akil,  with  ten  well- 
armed  Arabs,  or  fifteen  Arabs  in  all, 
including  servants. 

But  little  information  concerning  the 
Jordan  could  be  obtained  at  Tiberias,  and 
it  was  therefore  with  considerable  con- 
sternation that  the  course  of  that  river 
was  soon  found  to  be  interrupted  by 
frequent  and  most  fearful  rapids.  Thus, 
to  proceed  at  all,  it  often  became  necessary 
to  plunge  with  headlong  velocity  down  the 
most  appalling  descents.  So  great  were 
the  difficulties,  that,  on  the  second  evening, 
the  boats  were  not  more  than  twelve  miles 
in  direct  distance  from  Tiberias. 

The  banks  of  the  Jordan  were  found 
beautifully  studded  with  vegetation ;  the 
cultivation  of  the  ground,  however,  not  so 
extensive  as  it  might  be,  and  as  it  would 
be,  if  the  crops  were  secured  to  the 
cultivator  from  the  desperadoes  who  gcour 
the  region.  The  waters  (f  the  Jordan, 
clear  and  transparent  except  in  the  im- 
mediate vicinity  of  the  rapids  and  falls, 
are  well  calculated  for  fertilizing  the 
valleys  of  its  course.  There  are  often 
plenty  of  fish  seen  in  its  deep  and  shady 


356 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


course.  The  wide  and  deeply-depressed 
plain  through  which  the  river  flows,  is 
generally  barren,  treeless,  and  without 
verdure ;  and  the  mountains,  or  rather, 
the  cliffs  and  slopes  of  the  risen  uplands, 
present,  for  the  most  part,  a  wild  and 
cheerless  aspect.  The  verdure,  such  as  it 
is,  may  only  be  sought  on  and  near  the 
lower  valley  or  immediate  channel  of  the 
Jordan.  No  one  statement  can  apply  to 
the  scenery  of  its  entire  course ;  but  this 
description  given  of  the  central  part  of  the 
river's  course,  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
kind  of  scenery  which  the  passage  of  the 
river  offers. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  describes  the  charac- 
ter of  the  whole  scene  of  this  dreary 
waste  as  singularly  wild  and  impressive. 


Looking  out  upon  the  desert,  bright  with 
reverberated  light  and  heat,  was,  he  says, 
like  beholding  a  conflagration  from  a 
window  at  twilight.  Each  detail  of  the 
strange  and  solemn  scene  could  be  ex- 
amined as  through  a  lens.  The  moun- 
tains towards  the  west  rose  up  like 
islands  from  the  sea,  with  the  billows 
heaving  at  their  bases.  The  rough  peaks 
caught  the  slanting  sunlight,  while  sharp 
black  shadows  marked  the  sides  turned 
from  the  rays.  Deep  rooted  in  the  plain, 
the  bases  of  the  mountains  heaved  the 
garment  of  the  earth  away,  and  rose 
abruptly  in  naked  pyramidal  crags,  each 
scar  and  fissure  as  palpably  distinct  as 
though  within  reach,  and  yet  were  far 
distant.  Toward  the  south,  the  ridges 
and  higher  masses  of  the  range,  as  they 


swept  away  in  the  distance,  were  aerial  and 
faint,  and  softened  into  dimness  \>y  a.  pale 
transparent  mist.  The  plain  that  sloped 
away  from  the  bases  of  the  hills  was 
broken  into  ridges  and  multitudinous  cone- 
like  mounds,  resembling  tumultuous  water 
at  the  meeting  of  two  adverse  tides,  and 
presented  a  wild  and  checkered  tract  of 
land,  with  spots  of  vegetation  flourishing 
upon  the  frontiers  of  irreclaimable  sterility. 
A  low,  pale,  and  yellow  ridge  of  conical 
hills  marks  the  termination  of  the  higher 
terrace,  beneath  which  sweeps  gently  this 
lower  plain  with  a  similar  undulating 
surface,  half  redeemed  from  barrenness  by 
sparse  verdure  and  thistle-covered  hillocks. 
Still  lower  was  the  valley  of  the  Jordan — 
the  sacred  river ! — its  banks  fringed  with 
perpetual  verdure  ;  winding  in  a  thousand 
graceful  mazes ;  the  pathway  cheered 
with  songs  of  birds,  and  its  own  clear 
voice  of  gushing  minstrelsy ;  its  course  a 
bright  line  in  this  cheerless  waste. 

Concerning  an  earlier  portion  of  the 
river's  course,  about  one-third  from  the 
lake  of  Tiberias,  Lieutenant  Lynch  says, 
that,  for  hours  in  their  swift  descent  the 
boats  floated  down  in  silence — the  silence 
of  the  wilderness.  Here  and  there  were 
spots  of  solemn  beauty.  The  numerous 
birds  sang  with  a  music  strange  and 
manifold;  the  willow  branches  were 
spread  upon  the  stream  like  tresses,  and 
creeping  mosses  and  clambering  weeds, 
with  a  multitude  of  white  and  silvery  little 
flowers,  looked  out  from  among  them ;  and 
the  cliff  swallow  wheeled  over  the  falls,  or 
went  at  his  own  will,  darting  through  the 
arched  vistas,  and  shadowed  and  shaped 
by  the  meeting  foliage  on  the  banks. 
There  was  but  little  variety  in  the  scenery 
of  the  river;  the  streams  sometimes 
washed  the  bases  of  the  sandy  hills,  at 
other  times  meandered  between  low  banks, 
generally  fringed  with  trees  and  fragrant 
with  blossoms.  Some  points  presented 
views  exceedingly  picturesque.  The 
western  shore  is  peculiar  from  the  high 
calcarious  limestone  hills  which  form  a 
barrier  to  the  stream  when  swollen  by  the 
efflux  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  during  the 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


357 


winter  and  early  spring ;  while  the  left 
and  eastern  bank  is  low  and  fringed  with 
tamarisk  and  willow,  and  occasionally  a 
thicket  of  lofty  cane,  and  tangled  masses 
of  shrubs  and  creeping  plants,  gave  it  the 
appearance  of  a  jungle. 

No  less  than  twenty-two  nights  were 
spent  by  the  party  upon  the  lake.  During 
this  time  the  whole  circuit  of  it  was  made, 
including  the  back-water  at  the  southern 
extremity,  which  had  never  before  been 
explored  in  boats.  Every  object  of  in- 
terest upon  the  banks  was  examined ; 
and  the  lake  was  crossed  and  recrossed  in 
a  zigzag  direction  through  its  whole 
extent,  for  the  purpose  of  sounding.  The 
figure  of  the  lake,  as  sketched  by  the 
party,  is  somewhat  different  from  that 
usually  given  to  it.  The  breadth  is  more 
uniform  throughout ;  it  is  less  narrowed 
at  the  northern  extremity,  and  less 
widened  on  approaching  the  peninsula  in 
the  south.  In  its  general  dimensions  it 
is  longer,  but  is  not  so  wide  as  usually 
represented.  Its  length  by  the  map  is 
forty  miles,  by  an  average  breadth  of 
about  nine  miles.  The  water,  a  nauseous 
compound  of  bitters  and  salts. 


A  fresh  north  wind  was  blowing  as  they 
rounded  the  point.  They  endeavored  to 
steer  a  little  to  the  north  of  west,  to  make 
a  true  west  course,  and  threw  the  patent 
log  overboard  to  measure  the  distance ; 
but  the  wind  rose  so  rapidly  that  the 
boats  could  not  keep  head  to  wind,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  haul  the  log  in.  The 
sea  continued  to  rise  with  the  increasing 
wind,  which  gradually  freshened  to  a 
gale,  and  presented  an  agitated  surface  of 
foaming  brine  ;  the  spray,  evaporating  as 
it  fell,  left  incrustations  of  salt  upon  the 
voyagers'  clothes,  as  also  their  hands  and 
faces  ;  and,  while  it  conveyed  a  prickly 
sensation  wherever  it  touched  the  skin, 
was,  above  all,  exceedingly  painful  to  the 
eyes.  The  boats,  heavily  laden,  struggled 
sluggishly  at  first;  but  when  the  wind 
increased  in  its  fierceness,  from  the  density 
of  the  water  it  seemed  as  if  their  bows 
were  encountering  the  sledge-hammers  of 
the  Titans,  instead  of  the  opposing  waves 
of  an  angry  sea.  Finally,  such  was  the 
force  of  the  wind,  that  it  was  feared  both 
boats  must  founder.  Knowing  that  they 
were  losing  advantage  every  moment,  and 
that  with  the  lapse  of  each  succeeding  one 


VALLEV  OF  THE  JORDAN  AND  DEAD  SEA. 


After  giving  a  sketch  of  the  sights  and 
scenes  attending  the  bathing  of  the  pil- 
grims in  the  Jordan,  Lieutenant  Lynch 
sa3~s  that  the  river,  where  it  enters  the  sea, 
is  inclined  towards  the  eastern  shore ;  and 
there  is  a  considerable  bay  between  the 
river  and  the  mountains  of  Belka,  in 
Ammon,  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  sea. 


the  danger  increased,  they  kept  away  for 
the  northern  shore,  in  the  hope  of  being 
yet  able  to  reach  it, — their  arms,  clothea 
and  skin,  coated  with  a  greasy  salt,  and 
their  eyes,  lips  and  nostrils,  smarting  ex- 
cessively. 

But,  although  the  sea  had  assumed  a 
threatening     aspect,     and     the      fretted 


358 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


mountains  loomed  terrific  on  either  side, 
and  salt  and  ashes  mingled  with  its  sands, 
and  fetid  sulphureous  springs  trickled  down 
its  ravines,  the  explorers  did  not  despair. 
Awe  struck,  but  not  terrified,  fearing  the 
worst  yet  hoping  for  the  best,  preparations 
were  made  to  spend  a  dreary  night  upon 
the  dreariest  waste  ever  seen.  There  is  a 
tradition  among  the  Arabs  that  no  one 


the  exact  topography  of  its  shores,  as- 
certained the  temperature,  width,  depth, 
and  velocity  of  its  tributaries,  collected 
specimens  of  every  kind,  and  noted  the 
winds,  currents,  changes  of  the  weather, 
and  all  atmospheric  phenomena.  The 
bottom  of  this  sea  consists  of  two  sub- 
merged plains,  an  elevated  and  a  depressed 
one.  Through  the  northern,  and  largest 


BIGHT  BANK   OF  THE   DEAD  SEA. 


can  venture  upon  this  sea  and  live,  and  the 
Bad  fates  of  Costigan  and  Molyneux  are 
repeatedly  cited  to  deter  such  attempts. 
The  first  one  spent  a  few  days,  the  last 
about  twenty  hours,  and  returned  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  embarked 
without  landing  on  its  shores.  One  was 
found  dying  upon  the  shore  ;  the  other 
expired,  immediately  after  his  return,  of 
fever  contracted  upon  its  waters. 

The  northern  shore  is  an  extensive  mud 
flat,  with  a  sandy  plain  beyond,  the  very 
type  of  desolation  ;  branches  and  trunks  of 
trees  lay  scattered  in  every  direction — 
some  charred  and  blackened  as  by  fire, 
others  white  with  an  incrustation  of  salt. 
The  north-western  shore  is  an  unmixed  bed 
of  gravel,  coming  in  a  gradual  slope  from 
the  mountains  to  the  sea.  The  eastern 
coast  is  a  rugged  line  of  mountains,  bare 
of  all  vegetation— a  continuation  of  the 
Hauran  range,  coming  from  the  north,  and 
extending  south  beyond  the  scope  of 
vision,  throwing  out  three  marked  and 
seemingly  equi-distant  promontories  from 
its  south-eastern  extremities. 

Lieutenant  Lynch  fully  sounded  the  sea, 
determined  its  geographical  position,  took 


and  deepest  one,  in  a  line  corresponding 
with  the  bed  of  the  Jordan,  is  a  ravine, 
which  also  seems  to  correspond  with  the 
Wady  el-Jeib,  or  ravine  within  a  ravine,  at 
the  south  end  of  the  sea. 

At  one  time,  the  sea  was  observed  to 
assume  an  aspect  peculiarly  somber.  Un- 
stirred by  the  wind,  it  lay  smooth  and 
unruffled  as  an  inland  lake.  The  great 
evaporation  inclosed  it  in  a  thin  transpar- 
ent vapor,  its  purple  tinge  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  extraordinary  color  of 
the  sea  beneath,  and,  where  they  blended 
in  the  distance,  giving  it  the  appearance 
of  smoke  from  burning  sulphur.  It  seemed 
a  vast  caldron  of  metal,  fused  but  motion- 
less. The  surface  of  the  sea  was  one  wide 
sheet  of  phosphorescent  foam,  and  the 
waves,  as  they  broke  upon  the  shore,  threw 
a  sepulchral  light  upon  the  dead  bushes 
and  scattered  fragments  of  rocks.  The 
exhalations  and  saline  deposits  are  as  un- 
friendly  to  vegetable  life  as  the  waters  are 
to  animal  existence ;  that  fruit  can  be 
brought  to  perfection  there,  may  therefore 
well  be  considered  improbable. 

The  celebrated  "Apples  of  Sodom,"  so 
often  spoken  of  by  ancient  and  modern 


EXPEDITION  TO  THE  DEAD  SEA. 


359 


writers,  are  peculiar  to  this  locality.  The 
plant  is  a  perennial,  specimens  of  which 
have  been  found  from  ten  to  fifteen  feet 
high,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  in  girth.  It 
has  a  gray,  cork-like  bark,  with  long  and 
oval  leaves.  The  fruit  resembles  a  large 
smooth  apple  or  orange,  and  when  ripe  is 
of  a  yellow  color.  It  is  fair  to  the  eye, 
and  soft  to  the  touch,  but  when  pressed, 
it  explodes  with  a  puff,  leaving  in  the 
hand  only  the  shreds  of  the  rind  and  a  few 
fibers.  It  is,  indeed,  chiefly  filled  with 
air  like  a  bladder,  which  gives  it  the  round 
form,  while  in  the  center  is  a  pod  contain- 
ing a  quantity  of  fine  silk  with  seeds. 
When  green,  the  fruit,  like  the  leaves  and 
the  bark,  affords,  when  cut  or  broken,  a 
thickish,  white  milky  fluid.  This  plant, 
however,  which  from  being  in  Palestine 
found  only  on  the  shores  of  the  Dead  Sea, 
was  locally  regarded  as  being  the  special 
and  characteristic  product  of  that  lake,  is 
produced  also  in  Nubia,  Arabia,  and  Persia. 
Thus,  this  assumed  mystery  of  the  'Sea  of 
Death '  is  a  simple  phenomenon  of  nature, 
easily  explained;  as  is  also  that  of  the 
alleged  fire  and  smoke  of  the  lake,  being, 
as  already  described,  simply  mist  and 
phosphorescence. 

In  regard  to  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which 
Lot's  wife  was  turned, — one  of  the  most 
remarkable  facts  recorded  in  holy  writ, — 
and  the  continued  existence  of  which  has 
always  been  asserted  by  the  natives,  as 
well  as  by  many  travelers,  Lieutenant 
Lynch  asserts  that  a  pillar  is  there  to  be 
seen ;  the  same,  without  doubt,  to  which 
the  reports  of  the  natives  and  of  travelers 
refer.  But  that  this  pillar,  or  any  like  it, 
is  or  was  that  into  which  Lot's  wife  was 
transformed,  cannot,  of  course,  be  demon- 
strated. 

It  is  a  lofty,  round  pillar,  standing  ap- 
parently detached  from  the  general  mass, 


at  the  head  of  a  deep,  narrow,  and  abrupt 
chasm.  Immediately  pulling  in  for  the 
shore,  the  lieutenant  in  company  with  Dr. 
Anderson,  went  up  and  examined  it.  The 
beach  was  a  soft,  slimy  mud,  encrusted 
with  salt,  and  a  short  distance  from  the 
water,  covered  with  saline  fragments,  and 
flakes  of  bitumen.  They  found  the  pillar 
to  be  of  solid  salt,  capped  with  carbonate 
of  lime,  cylindrical  in  front  and  pyramidal 
behind.  The  upper  or  rounded  part  is 
about  forty  feet  high,  resting  on  a  kind  of 
oval  pedestal,  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  It  slightly  decreases 
in  size  upwards,  crumbles  at  the  top,  and  is 
one  entire  mass  of  crystallization.  A  prop 
or  buttress  connects  it  with  the  mountain 
behind,  and  the  whole  is  covered  with  de- 
bris of  a  light  stone  color.  Its  peculiar 
shape  is  attributable  to  the  action  of  the 
winter  rains.  Lieutenant  Lynch  gives  no 
credit  to  the  representations  that  connect 
this  pillar  or  column  with  Lot's  wife. 
And  this  is  true  of  most  travelers  who  have 
visited  the  spot,  though  Montague  gives  it, 
as  his  opinion,  that  Lot's  wife  having  lin- 
gered behind,  she,  while  so  lingering,  be- 
came overwhelmed  in  the  descending  fluid, 
and  formed  the  model  or  foundation  for 
this  extraordinary  column ;  a  lasting  me- 
morial of  God's  punishing  a  most  deliber- 
ate act  of  disobedience. 

After  an  absence  of  a  little  more  than  a 
year,  Lieutenant  Lynch  returned,  with  his 
companions,  to  the  United  States,  the  ex- 
pedition having  been  highly  successful  in 
accomplishing  the  purpose  for  which  it 
was  planned ;  comparing  most  favorably 
in  this  respect  with  the  results  of  explora- 
tions made  by  othe.  parties,  and  receiving 
the  highest  encomiums  of  English  review- 
ers some  of  whose  comments,  throwing 
additional  light  on  various  points  involved 
in  The  subject,  are  here  presented. 


XLV. 

DISCOVERY   OF   GOLD    AT   SUTTER'S   MILL,   CALIFOR- 
NIA.—1848. 


Widely  Extended  and  Inexhaustible  Deposits  of  the  Precious  Metal.— The  News  Spreads  like  Wild-fire 
to  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Globe.— Overwhelming  Tide  of  Emigration  from  All  Countries.— Nucleus 
of  a  Great  Empire  on  the  Pacific.— California  Becomes  the  El  Dorado  of  the  World  and  the  Golden 
Commonwealth  of  the  American  Union.— First  Practical  Discovery  of  the  Gold.— On  John  A.  Suiter's 
Land.— Found  by  J.  W.  Marshall.— Simple  Accident  that  Led  to  It.— Marshall's  Wild  Excitement.— 
Shows  Sutler  the  Golden  Grains. — A  Dramatic  Interview. — The  Discovery  Kept  Secret.— How  it 
was  Disclosed. — A  Real  Wonder  of  the  Age. — Trials  of  the  Early  Emigrants.— Their  Bones  Whiten 
the  Soil — All  Professions  at  the  Mines — Impetus  Given  to  Commerce. — Life  Among  the  Diggers. — 
Disordered  State  of  Society. — Crimes,  Outrages,  Conflagrations. — Scarcity,  Fabulous  Prices. — Mining 
by  Machinery.— Order  and  Stability  Reached.— Population  in  1867,  600,000.— Gold  in  Ten  Yeari 
1600,000,000. 


"  Gold  to  fetch,  and  gold  to  »end, 
Gold  to  borrow,  and  ^old  to  lend, 
Gold  to  keep,  and  gold  to  spend, 
And  abundance  of  gold  in/uturo" 


rjsws 


UIM.NO    OrEKATlONS  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


ITHOUT  any  exaggeration,  it 
iVA  may  be  asserted  that  no  modern 
event  has  been  the  cause  of  so 
much  romance  in  real  life, — no 
branch  or  sphere  of  trade,  even  though  perfected  by  long 
experience,  has  called  into  employment  so  many  of  the 
means  and  instrumentalities  of  diversified  human  industry 
and  commercial  intercourse, — indeed,  nothing  within  the 
memory  of  man,  except  the  achievements  of  steam  and  the 
electric  telegraph,  approaches  so  nearly  to  magic,  as  the 
discovery  of  gold,  in  luxurious  deposits,  o»  the  shores  of  the 
Pacific,  and  that,  too,  in  the  soil  of  a  territory  which,  by 
conquest  and  purchase,  had  but  just  fallen,  like  fruit  golden 
ripe,  into  the  lap  of  the  Great  Eepublic.  This 
discovery  occurred  at  Suiter's  mill,  in  Coloma 
county,  California,  in  February, 
1848. 

Here,  however,  it  deserves  to 
be  stated  as  a  matter  of  histori- 
-  cal  interest,  that  gold  placers 
were  worked  in  certain  portions 
of  California,  long  before  the 
discovery  just  mentioned.  The 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


361 


evidence  of  this  appears  in  a  letter  ad- 
dressed by  Abel  Stearns,  of  Los  Angeles, 
to  Louis  R.  Lull,  secretary  of  the  Califor- 
nia Society  of  Pioneers.  Mr.  Stearns,  who 
went  to  California  from  Mexico  in  1829, 
states  that  on  the  22d  of  November,  1842, 
he  sent  by  Alfred  Robinson — who  returned 
from  California  to  the  states  by  way  of 
Mexico— twenty  ounces  California  weight, 
or  eighteen  and  three-fourths  ounces  mint 
weight,  of  placer  gold,  to  be  forwarded  by 
him  to  the  United  States  mint  at  Phila- 
delphia; the  mint  assay  was  returned 
August  6,  1843.  This  gold  was  taken 
from  placers  first  discovered  in  March, 
1842,  by  Francisco  Lopez,  a  Californian, 
at  San  Francisquito,  about  thirty-five  miles 
north-west  from  Los  Angeles.  It  appears 
that  Lopez,  while  resting  in  the  shade  with 
some  companions,  during  a  hunt  for  stray 
horses,  dug  up  some  wild  onions  with  his 
sheath  knife,  and  in  the  dirt  discovered  a 
piece  of  gold.  Searching  further,  he  found 
more  pieces,  and  on  returning  to  town  an- 
nounced his  discovery.  A  few  persons, 
mostly  Sonorians,  who  were  accustomed  to 
placer  mining  in  Mexico,  worked  in  the 
San  Francisquito  placer  from  this  time 
until  the  latter  part  of  1846  (when  the 
war  with  the  United  States  disturbed  the 
country),  taking  out  some  six  thousand  to 
eight  thousand  dollars  in  value,  per  annum. 
The  United  States  mint  certificate  for  the 
assay  made  for  Mr.  Stearns  in  1843,  is  now 
in  the  archives  of  the  "  Society  of  Califor- 
nia Pioneers." 

Before  the  great  event  which  made  the 
year  1848  so  memorable,  the  influence  of 
the  United  States  had  already  become  con- 
spicuous iu  the  affairs  of  California,  and 
had  in  a  degree  prepared  the  way  for  what 
was  to  follow.  In  the  words  of  a  British 
writer,  the  United  States  spread  her  actual 
influence  long  before  she  planted  a  flag  as 
the  sign  of  her  dominion.  For  two  years 
previous  to  the  capture  of  Monterey,  in 
1846V  her  authority  had  been  paramount  in 
California.  At  length,  toward  the  close  of 
the  summer  of  1845,  Fremont  appeared  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Monterey,  whose  park- 
like  scenery  —  trees  scattered  iii  groups 


over  grassy  hills,  wide  sloping  fields,  plan- 
tations of  oak  and  fir,  red-tiled  houses, 
yellow-washed  church,  and  white  cottages 
— showed  in  pleasant  contrast  to  the  deso- 
late region  of  the  Rocky  mountains  he  had 
left.  He  was  accompanied  by  some  of  his 
trappers  —  men  of  muscle  and  daring, 
dressed  in  deer-skin  coats,  with  formidable 
rifles,  and  mounted  on  tall,  spare  horses. 
They  rode  in  Indian  file  through  the  out- 
skirts ;  their  leader  viewed  the  town,  and 
they  vanished.  Soon  again  he  appeared, 
with  an  ominous  array  of  thirty-five  fol- 
lowers, encamped  on  a  woody  height ;  was 
commanded  to  depart,  was  driven  to  the 
hills,  pursued,,  and  again  lost  sight  of. 
An  American  ship  then  sailed  into  the 
harbor.  Fremont  was  again  at  Monterey. 
The  Californians  foresaw  the  probable 
progress  of  events,  and  perhaps  secretly 
desired  the  fostering  protection  of  the 
great  republic.  While  balancing  between 
that  and  independence,  two  United  States 
vessels  simultaneously  entered  the  harbors 
of  Monterey  and  San  Francisco,  and  in 
July,  1846,  the  whole  of  California  came 
under  the  rule  of  America.  A  new  era 
was  again  opened.  An  immediate  change 
appeared.  Industry  was  revived ;  deserted 
villages  were  repeopled;  neglected  lands 
were  again  cultivated ;  decaying  towns 
were  renovated;  and  the  busy  hum  of 
toil  broke  that  silence  and  lethargy  which, 
brooded  over  an  ill-governed  country. 

But  another  and  greater  change  was  at 
hand,  to  turn  the  tide  of  her  fortunes  into 
a  new,  a  wider,  and  more  diffusive  channel, 
and  to  raise  California  from  the  condition 
of  a  wild  and  isolated  territory,  to  be  the 
very  focus  of  the  world's  attention, — the 
spot  where  innumerable  streams  of  emigra- 
tion from  the  four  quarters  of  the  world, 
from  barbarous  and  civilized  countries, 
pouring  across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or 
brought  over  the  sea,  from  distant  shores, 
were  to  meet  in  tumultuous  confluence, 
and,  flowing  upon  each  other,  form  an 
eddying  whirlpool  of  excitement,  such  as 
few  countries  on  the  globe,  in  any  period 
of  their  history,  could  present  to  the  ob- 
servation of  mankind. 


362 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


What  is  the  character  of  this  region, 
independently  of  its  newly  discovered 
treasures,  at  the  period  mentioned?  It 
is  wealthy  in  many  natural  resources.  Its 
extent  is  great.  From  Cape  Mendocino, 
at  the  borders  of  the  United  States,  to  the 
root  of  the  peninsula,  is  seven  hundred 
miles,  and  Lower  California  thrusts  out 
its  vast  tongue  to  an  almost  equal  dis- 
tance. The  old  region  is  for  the  most 
part  a  broken,  hilly,  and  barren  tract  of 
land ;  but  occasional  plains  of  rich  fertility' 
alternate  with  the  less  favored  tracts,  and 
these  formed  the  sites  of  the  old  Jesuit 
missions.  Alta  California  extends  from 
the  coast  to  the  provinces  of  New  Mexico. 
Of  the  interior  desert  basin,  little  is  known, 
except  that  it  is  a  wild,  rocky,  and  woody 
territory,  watered  by  a  few  rivers,  and 
lakes,  rising. periodically  from  the  earth, 
and  peopled  by  wandering  Indian  hordes. 
The  Sierra  Nevada,  or  snowy  range,  di- 
vides the  gold  region  from  the  great  des- 
ert basin ;  and  between  this  and  the  sea 
lies  another  line  of  mountains,  forming  a 
valley  five  hundred  miles  in  length,  wa- 
tered by  the  Sacramento  and  the  San 
Joachim.  These  streams,  forming  a  junc- 
tion in  the  center  of  the  valley,  diverge 
toward  the  sea,  and  pour  in  an  united 
current  into  the  harbor  of  San  Francisco 
— one  of  the  noblest  on  the  globe.  The 
aspect  of  the  country  is  diversified,  and 
full  of  beauty.  Green  valleys,  glittering 
lakes,  and  verdant  hills,  extend  along  the 
interior  borders,  backed  by  the  rounded 
spires  of  the  snowy  range,  whose  deep  ra- 
vines and  caverns  are  just  now  peopled  by 


toiling  gold  hunters;  and  these  arc  drawing 
more  wealth  from  the  bleakest,  most  bar- 
ren, and  most  neglected  spots,  than  a  hus- 
bandman in  the  course  of  many  years  could 
derive  from  the  most  luxuriantly  cultivated 
land.  Along  the  river  banks,  light  grassy 
slopes  alternate  with  stony,  broken,  sandy 
expanses,  honey-combed  as  it  were  by 
time,  but  now  swarming  with  amateur 
delvers.  However,  the  country,  as  a 
whole,  is  fertile  ;  producing  readily  grains, 
vegetables,  and  fruits,  with  fine  timber, 
whilst  immense  pasture  grounds  afford 
nourishment  to  the  flocks  and  herds  that 
once  formed  the  principal  wealth  of  Cali- 
fornia. 

U|  to  the  year  1847,  so  comparatively 
small  were  the  gatherings  of  gold,  in 
various  sections  of  the  globe,  that  in 


SUTTEB'S   MILL,   WHERE   GOLD  WAS   FIRST   DISCOVKRKl),   IN   1848. 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


363 


reckoning  the  average  produce  of  the  pre- 
cious metal,  of  all  parts  of  the  New  and 
Old  World  for  a  series  of  years  previous  to 
1847,  it  did  not  amount  to  the  annual 
value  of  twenty-five  million  dollars. 

It  was  in  September,  1847,  that  Captain 
John  A.  Sutter,  the  great  pioneer  settler 
in  California,  commenced  an  undertaking 


JOHN    A.    SUTTER. 


which  led,  by  a  very  simple  and  ordinary 
circumstance,  to  the  first  practical  dis- 
covery of  the  prodigiously  valuable  gold 
mines  of  California — the  long-sought  El 
Dorado  of  ancient  and  modern  times. 
This  undertaking  consisted  in  the  erection 
of  a  saw-mill  at  Coloma,  on  a  mountainous 
spot  about  one  thousand  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  valley,  where  the  Rio  des  los 
Americanos  pours  down  from  the  Sierra 
Nevada  to  swell  the  united  streams  of  the 
Sacramento  and  San  Joachim. 

Such  an  enterprise,  in  such  a  region,  at 
a  time  when  the  political  and  social  con- 
dition of  the  country  was  so  unsettled  and 
uncertain,  indicated  a  mind  of  energy  and 
executive  capacity,  on  the  part  of  the 
projector.  And  it  was  even  so,  in  full 
measure,  in  the  case  of  Captain  Sutter. 
He  is  described,  by  his  biographers,  in  the 
annals  of  San  Francisco,  as  an  intelligent 
Swiss  emigrant,  who  sailed  for  and  reached 
New  York,  in  July,  1834;  but  finally 
settled  and  for  several  years  resided  in 
Missouri.  The  wild  west  had  always 
possessed  a  charm  for  him,  and  he  had  re- 
moved thither ;  but  now  his  adventurous 
spirit  looked  still  further  towards  the  setting 


sun,  and  roved  along  the  waters  that  sped 
their  unknown  way  to  the  Pacific.  Leav- 
ing family  and  home,  in  company  with  Sir 
William  Drummond  Stewart,  he  joined  a 
party,  under  the  charge  of  Captain  Tripps, 
of  the  American  Fur  Company,  and  start- 
ed for  the  broad  valleys  of  California, 
where  he  knew  that  rich  and  fertile  lands 
only  awaited  an  industrious  cultivator,  and 
where  Providence  had  even  a  still  richer 
yielding  field  that  he  knew  not  of.  He 
left  the  trappers  at  their  rendezvous  on 
the  Wind  river  among  the  Kansas  Rocky 
mountains,  and  with  a  new  party  of  six 
decided  on  proceeding  to  their  destination 
by  way  of  Oregon.  Crossing  the  valley  of 
the  Willamette,  he  finally  arrived  at  Fort 
Vancouver,  and  there  ascertained  that 
innumerable  delays  must  elapse  before  he 
could  reach  California.  Nothing  daunted, 
and  apparently  urged,  like  Columbus,  to 
accomplish  his  object  despite  of  fate, 
Captain  Sutter  sailed  for  the  Sandwich 
Islands,  hoping  to  embark  thence  direct 
for  the  Spanish  coast.  But  when  he 
arrived  there,  no  vessels  were  about  to  sail 
in  that  direction.  Again  he  threw  down 
the  gauntlet  to  fate,  and  re-embarked  for 
Sitka  Island,  in  Russian  America,  and 
from  that  immense  distance  at  last  reached 
Yerba  Buena,  July  second,  1839.  Not 
permitted  to  land  here,  he  again  embarked, 
and  was  finally  allowed  to  set  foot  on 
California  soil  at  Monterey.  Having  suc- 
ceeded in  overcoming  the  Spanish  opposi- 
tion to  foreign  settlers,  he  obtained  the 
permission  of  Governor  Alvarado  to  locate 
himself  in  the  valley  of  the  Rio  del  Sacra- 
mento; more  readily  granted,  perhaps, 
because  it  was  then  the  abode  of  savage 
Indians.  He  explored  the  Sacramento, 
Feather  and  American  rivers,  and  in 
August,  1839,  about  eighteen  months  after 
he  commenced  his  journey,  permanently 
established  himself  on  the  latter  river, 
with  a  colony  of  only  three  whites  and 
eight  Kanakas.  In  a  short  time,  he  re- 
moved to  the  location  afterwards  known  as 
Sutter's  Fort,  and  took  possession  of  the 
surrounding  country  under  a  Mexican 
grant,  giving  to  it  the  name  of  New 


364 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


Helvetia.  From  this  point  he  cut  a  road 
to  the  junction  of  the  Sacramento  and 
American  rivers,  where  he  established  a 
quay  or  landing-place,  on  the  site  of  which 
has  since  been  built  the  city  of  Sacramento. 
Here  he  remained  for  several  years,  becom- 
ing possessor  of  a  large  amount  of  land, 
and  rapidly  carrying  on  various  and  ex- 
tensive improvements.  At  one  time  he 
had  a  thousand  acres  sown  in  wheat,  and 
owned  eight  thousand  neat  cattle,  twq 
thousand  horses  and  mules,  as  many  sheep, 
and  a  thousand  swine.  He  was  appointed 
alcalde  of  the  district  by  Commodore 
Stockton,  and  Indian  agent  by  General 
Kearney ;  and  with  all  his  sympathies 
with  this  country,  his  earnest  wish  was  to 
see  California  brought  into  the  American 
Union. 

Among  the  followers  of  Sutter  was 
James  W.  Marshall,  who  emigrated  from 
New  Jersey  to  Oregon  in  1843,  and  a  year 
later  went  to  California.  By  trade  he 
was  a  carpenter,  and  to  him  Captain 
Sutter  intrusted  the  erection  of  the  saw- 
mill at  Coloma,  where  good  water-power 
and  plenty  of  lumber  had  determined  its 
location.  It  was  this  enterprise  which  led 
to  the  most  famous  discovery  of  gold  ever 
known  in  the  history  of  the  globe.  How 
this  happened,  has  been  differently  related 
by  different  authorities,  but  perhaps  by 
none  more  authentically  than  by  Mr. 
Dunbar,  president  of  the  Traveller's  Club 
of  New  York.  The  saw-mill  was  com- 
pleted in  January,  1848,  and  they  had 
just  commenced  sawing  lumber,  when,  on 
the  night  of  February  2d,  Marshall 
appeared  at  Suiter's  Fort,  his  horse  in  a 
foam  and  himself  presenting  a  singular 
appearance — all  bespattered  with  mud, 
and  laboring  under  intense  excitement. 

And  now  ensued  a  scene  which  can 
scarcely  be  exceeded  in  its  elements  of 
dramatic  representation.  Marshall  imme- 
diately requested  Captain  Sutter  to  go 
•with  him  into  a  room  where  they  could  be 
alone.  This  request  was  granted,  and, 
after  the  door  was  closed,  Marshall  asked 
Captain  Sutter  if  he  was  sure  they  would 
not  be  disturbed,  and  desired  that  the 


door  might  be  locked.  Captain  Sutter  did 
not  know  what  to  make  of  his  actions,  and 
he  began  to  think  it  hazardous  to  lock 
himself  in  the  room  with  Marshall,  who 
appeared  so  uncommonly  strange.  Mar- 
shall being  satisfied  at  last  that  they 
would  not  be  interrupted,  took  from  his 
pocket  a  pouch  from  which  he  poured 
upon  the  table  about  an  ounce  of  yellow 
grains  of  metal,  which  he  thought  would 
prove  to  be  gold.  Captain  Sutter  inquired 
where  he  got  it.  Marshall  stated  that  in 
the  morning,  the  water  being  shut  off  from 
the  saw-mill  race,  as  was  customary,  he 
discovered,  in  passing  through  the  race, 
shining  particles  here  and  there  on  the 
bottom.  On  examination,  he  found  them 
to  be  of  metallic  substance,  and  the 
thought  flashed  over  him  that  they  might 
be  gold.  How  big  with  events  was  this 
point  of  time  !  Marshall  stated  that  the 
laborers — white  and  Indian — had  picked 
up  some  of  the  particles,  and  he  thought 
a  large  quantity  could  be  collected. 

Captain  Sutter  was  at  first  quite 
incredulous  as  to  these  particles  being 
gold,  but  happening  to  have  a  bottle  of 
nitric  acid  among  his  stores,  he  applied 
the  test,  and,  true  enough,  the  yellow 
grains  proved  to  be  pure  gold.  The  great 
discovery  was  made  ! 

The  account  given  above  agrees  sub- 
stantially with  Captain  Sutter's  own 
narrative  of  the  event,  namely :  That 
Marshall  had  contracted  with  him  for  the 
building  of  a  saw-mill  for  producing 
lumber,  on  the  south  fork  of  the  American 
River,  a  feeder  of  the  Sacramento.  In 
the  course  of  his  operations,  Marshall  had 
occasion  to  admit  the  river  water  into  the 
tail-race,  for  the  purpose  of  widening  and 
deepening  it  by  the  strength  of  the 
current.  In  doing  this,  a  considerable 
quantity  of  mud,  sand,  and  gravel,  was 
carried  along  with  the  stream,  and 
deposited  in  a  heap  at  the  foot  of  the  tail- 
race.  Marshall,  when  one  day  examining 
the  state  of  his  works,  noticed  a  few 
glittering  particles  lying  near  the  edge  of 
the  heap.  His  curiosity  being  aroused, 
he  gathered  some  of  the  sparkling  objects; 


DISCOVEEY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


365 


and  he  at  once  became  satisfied  of  their 
nature  and  the  value  of  his  discovery.  All 
trembling  with  excitement,  he  hurried  to 
his  employer  and  told  his  story.  Captain 
Sutter  at  first  thought  it  was  a  fiction,  and 
the  teller  only  a  mad  fool.  Indeed,  lie 
confesses  that  he  kept  a  sharp  eye  upon 
his  loaded  rifle,  when  he,  whom  he  was 
tempted  to  consider  a  maniac,  was  eagerly 
disclosing  the  miraculous  tale.  However, 
his  doubts  were  all  at  once  dispelled  when 
Marshall  tossed  on  the  table  before  him 
some  of  the  shining  dust. 

Not  less  interesting  is  the  account  given 
of  the  manner  in  which  the  discovery 
became  public — owing,  as  appears  by  Mr. 
Dunbar's  statement,  to  that  which  extracts 
both  wit  and  wisdom,  as  well  as  folly,  from 
the  brain  of  man.  After  some  examin- 
ation, Captain  Sutter  became  satisfied  that 
gold  in  considerable  quantities  would  be 
found  in  that  neighborhood;  and  while  the 
reflections  of  Marshall  were  probably  con- 
fined to  the  idea  of  rapidly  acquired 
wealth  for  himself,  Captain  Sutter  realized 
at  once  how  impossible  it  would  be  to  hold 
his  laborers  to  their  work  in  carrying  on 
his  improvements,  gathering  his  crops,  and 
avoid  being  overrun  by  new-comers, 
should  the  gold  prove  abundant  and  the 
discovery  be  promulgated.  He  therefore 
begged  the  laborers  to  say  nothing  about 
the  gold  for  six  weeks.  His  grist-mill  and 
some  other  improvements  would  then  be 
completed,  and  his  crops  all  gathered. 
The  laborers  promised  to  comply  with  his 
request,  and  Captain  Sutter  returned  home 
on  the  fifth  of  February.  But  the  great 
secret  could  not  long  be  retained.  A 
bottle  of  whiskey  made  it  known.  A 
teamster,  whom  Captain  Sutter  had  dis- 
patched to  the  saw-mill  with  supplies, 
heard  of  the  discovery  of  gold,  and 
managed  to  obtain  some  of  the  precious 
grains.  On  returning  to  the  fort,  he 
immediately  went  to  the  neighboring 
store,  kept  by  a  Mormon,  and  demanded  a 
bottle  of  whiskey.  This  was  a  cash  article 
in  that  country,  and,  as  the  teamster  was 
poor  pay,  the  trader  refused  to  sell  him 
the  whiskey.  The  man  declared  h«  had 


plenty  of  money,  and  exhibited  some 
grains  of  gold.  The  astonished  trader,  on 
being  satisfied  that  these  were  gold,  gave 
his  customer  the  bottle  of  whiskey,  and 
earnestly  inquired  where  he  got  the  gold. 
The  teamster  refused  to  make  known  the 
secret  till  he  had  imbibed  considerable  of 
the  liquor,  when  his  tongue  was  loosened, 
and  he  told  all  about  the  discovery  of  gold 
at  Sutter's  mill.  The  wonderful  tale 
spread  like  wild-fire  throughout  the 
sparsely  inhabited  territory  of  California. 
It  ran  up  and  down  the  Pacific  coast, 
traversed  the  continent,  reached  the 
Atlantic  shores,  and  in  a  short  time  the 
story  of  California's  golden  treasures  had 
startled  the  whole  civilized  world. 

Naturally  enough,  the  first  rumors,  as 
they  spread  abroad,   were  lightly   tossed 


JAMES  W.    MARSHALL. 


aside ;  but  confirmation  gave  them 
strength,  and  as  each  transmission  of 
intelligence  to  the  United  States  carried 
fresh  accounts  of  new  discoveries,  an 
enthusiastic  ardor  was  awakened,  and 
within  four  months  of  that  eventful  day, 
five  thousand  persons  were  delving  on  th« 
river's  banks,  on  the  slopes,  amid  the 
ravines,  hollows,  and  caverns  in  the  valley 
of  the  Sacramento. 

And  now,  from  the  vast  population  of 
the  great  republic,  new  streams  of  emigra- 
tion broke  at  once  to  swell  that  current 
which  for  years  had  set  noiselessly  toward 
the  valleys  of  California.  Gradually,  the 
knowledge  of  the  auriferous  soil  was  borne 
to  the  four  quarters  of  the  world,  and  from 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


all  the  ports  of  all  nations  sails  were 
spread  toward  the  coasts  of  that  wealthy 
region.  As  by  a  magnetic  impulse,  the 
sands  of  the  Sacramento  attracted  popula- 
tion. Lawyers,  clergymen,  physicians, 
hotel-keepers,  merchants,  mechanics, 
clerks,  traders,  farmers,  left  their  occupa- 
tions, and  hurried  with  basket  and  spade 
to  the  land  that  glittered.  Homes  and 
houses  were  closed ;  the  grass  threatened 
to  grow  over  whole  streets ;  deserted  ships 
swung  on  their  anchors  in  silent  harbors. 
The  garrison  of  Monterey  abandoned  arms 
and  took  up  the  pickaxe  and  the  shovel. 
Trains  of  wagons  constantly  streamed 
from  the  coast  to  the  interior.  Stores  and 
sheds  were  built  along  the  river  bank, 
and  crammed  with  provisions  to  be  sold  at 
more  than  famine  prices ;  whole  towns  of 
tents  and  bushy  bowers  sprang  up  as  if 
by  magic  ;  every  dawn  rose  upon  a  motley 
toiling  multitude,  swarming  in  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  modern  El  Dorado,  and 
every  night  was  illuminated  by  the  flames 
of  a  thousand  bivouacs. 

Half-naked  Indians,  sharp-visaged  Yan- 
kees in  straw  hats  and  loose  frocks,  groups 
of  swarthy  Spanish-Americans,  old  Dons 
in  the  gaudy  costume  of  a  dead  fashion, 
gigantic  trappers  with  their  rude  prairie 
garb,  and  gentlemen  traders  from  all  the 
States  of  the  Union,  with  crowds  of 
Californian  women,  jostled  in  tumultuous 
confusion  through  the  gold  district. 
Every  method,  from  the  roughest  to  the 
most  ingenious,  was  devised  for  the  rapid 
accumulation  of  gold ;  and  the  strange 
spectacle  was  presented  of  a  vast  popula- 
tion, without  law,  without  authority,  with- 
out restraint,  toiling  together  in  amicable 
companionship.  But  the  duration  of  this 
condition  of  things  was  brief.  Outrages 
were  perpetrated,  robbery  commenced, 
blood  was  shed,  and  anarchy  in  its  most 
hideous  form  appeared.  But  the  United 
States  government  soon  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  order,  and  prepared  a  system  of 
regular  legislation  for  California.  A 
severe  code  was  established;  thieving  in- 
curred the  heavy  penalty  of  a  brand  on 
the  cheek,  with  mutilation  of  the  ears  ; 


other  crimes  were  punished  with  similar 
rigor. 

Within  a  period  of  five  months,  the 
population  of  the  territory  had  run  up  to 
one  hundred  thousand,  having  just  quad- 
rupled during  that  time.  Of  these,  some 
forty-five  thousand  arrived  in  the  nine 
thousand  wagons  that  traversed  the  over- 
land route,  and  four  thousand  on  mule- 
back,  while  the  remainder  came  via, 
Panama,  and  round  Cape  Horn.  One- 
third  of  this  multitude  was  composed  of 
farmers,  another  of  tradesmen  and  me- 
chanics, and  the  rest  of  merchants,  pro- 
fessional men,  adventurers,  and  gamblers. 
The  vast  emigrant  armies  acted  as  pioneers 
on  their  various  routes,  hewing  down 
trees,  filling  up  chasms,  leveling  the 
grounds,  and  bridging  torrents.  But  the 
sufferings  endured  in  these  colossal  cara- 
vans were  severe  and  terrible.  Many 
perished  on  the  route ;  many  became  in- 
sane, or  wasted  away,  through  lack  of  food 
and  water.  The  scourge  of  cholera  also 
overtook  the  early  emigrants,  before  they 
were  fairly  embarked  on  the  wilderness; 
the  frequent  rains  of  the  early  spring, 
added  to  the  hardships  and  exposure  of 
their  travel,  prepared  the  way  for  its 
ravages,  and  the  first  four  hundred  miles 
of  the  trail  were  marked  by  graves,  to 
the  number  of  about  four  thousand. 
Many  also  suffered  immensely  for  want 
of  food.  Bayard  Taylor,  in  his  narrative 
of  what  befell  these  pioneer  emigrants,  says 
that  not  only  were  they  compelled  to  kill 
their  horses  and  mules  to  keep  themselves 
from  starvation,  but  it  was  not  unusual  for 
a  mess  by  way  of  variety  to  the  tough  mule 
steaks,  to  kill  a  quantity  of  rattlesnakes, 
with  which  the  mountains  abounded,  and 
have  a  dish  of  them  fried  for  supper. 

And  still  the  tide  of  emigration  rolled 
onward,  as  the  richness  of  the  gold 
product,  over  so  vast  a  region  of  territory, 
became  a  confirmed  fact.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  oft-told  story  of  deprivation, 
famine  and  death,  parties  and  companies 
daily  went  forth  to  El  Dorado,  the  golden 
land.  Some  took  the  perilous  inland  route 
across  the  Rocky  mountains;  some  went 


DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


367 


round  Cape  Horn ;  and  multitudes  took 
the  Panama  route.  The  tens  of  thousands 
who  thus  went,  having  no  other  object 
than  to  get  gold,  had  neither  means  nor 
inclination  to  grow  their  own  food  nor  to 
manufacture  their  own  necessaries ;  and 
hence  arose  a  field  of  enterprise  which  the 
commercial  world  did  not  neglect.  Valu- 
able cargoes  were  dispatched  to  San  Fran- 
cisco to  be  there  sold  in  exchange  for 
gold  dust,  and  that  place  in  time  became  a 
populous,  busy,  thriving  city,  distinguished 
also  for  reckless  speculation,  fabulous 
prices  for  real  estate,  excesses  of  all  kinds, 
and  disastrous  conflagrations.  During 
one  week  in  1850,  gold  dust  to  the  value 
of  three  million  dollars  was  shipped  and 
exported  from  San  Francisco.  In  August 
of  the  same  year  the  monthly  shipment 
had  reached  about  eight  million  dollars. 
On  September  15,  1850,  there  were  in  that 
port  six  hundred  and  eighty-four  vessels, 
belonging  to  twenty-one  different  nations  ; 
some  of  these  vessels,  small  in  size,  had 
crossed  the  whole  breadth  of  the  Pacific 
from  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  to  ex- 
change their  produce  for  gold  dust.  In 
the  first  two  weeks  of  October,  in  the 
same  year,  ninety-four  vessels  arrived  at 
San  Francisco,  not  including  the  regular 
steamers. 

But  the  most"  strange  and  wonderful 
spectacle  of  all,  was  that  exhibited  by 
the  money-diggers  at  their  avocation. 
Men  with  long-handled  shovels  delved 
among  clumps  of  bushes,  or  by  the  side  of 
large  rocks,  never  raising  their  eyes  for  an 
instant;  others,  with  pick  and  shovel, 


worked  among  stone  and  gravel,  or  with 
trowels  searched  under  banks  and  roots 
of  trees,  where,  if  rewarded  with  small 
lumps  of  gold,  their  eyes  suddenly  kindled 
with  pleasure,  and  the  search  was  more 
intently  pursued.  In  the  water,  knee,  or 
even  waist  deep,  regardless  of  the  shiver- 
ing cold,  others  were  washing  the  soil 
in  the  tin  pans  or  the  common  cradle  rocker, 
whilst  the  sun  poured  a  hot  flood  upon  their 
heads.  The  common  rocking  machine 
for  separating  the  gold  was  at  first  in  great 
demand,  but  this  was  soon  superseded  by  a 
cradle  of  ingenious  construction ;  then 
came  crushing  mills,  of  various  kinds,  for 
pounding  the  auriferous  quartz;  and  in 
time,  machinery  of  the  most  effective 
adaptability  was  universally  introduced. 
This  operated  powerfully  to  regulate  min- 
ing operations,  and  to  give  order  and 
stability  to  affairs  generally  throughout 
the  territory.  Society  assumed  the  most 
advanced  organization,  churches  every- 
where dotted  the  land,  education  was 
fostered,  and  the  political  institutions  of 
the  country  patterned  after  those  of  the 
older  states.  Agricultural,  industrial, 
and  commercial  pursuits  were  entered  upon 
largely  and  with  great  success  ;  California 
was  admitted  as  a  state  into  the  Union  in 
1850  ;  and  in  only  ten  years  from  Mar- 
shall's curious  and  accidental  discovery  of 
gold  at  Sutter's  mill,  in  1848,  the  gold 
product  of  California  had  reached  a  total 
of  six  hundred  million  dollars,  and  the 
population  had  increased  from  between 
twenty  and  thirty  thousand  souls  to  six 
hundred  thousand  1 


XLV1. 

AWFUL  VISITATIONS  OF  THE  "ANGEL  OF  DEATH."— 1849. 


Yellow  Fever  and  Cholera  Epidemics  at  Different  Periods. — Frightful  Mortality  and  Panic  in  1849. — 
Business  Abandoned,  Churches  Closed,  Streets  Barricaded,  Cities  Deserted. — Proclamation  by  the 
President  of  the  United  States. — The  Virtues,  Passions,  and  Vices  of  Human  Nature  Strikingly  Illus- 
trated.— Tens  of  Thousands  Swept  at  Once  from  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — Various  Eras  of  American 
Epidemics. — Wide  and  Ghastly  Ravages. — Self-Preservation  the  First  Law. — Social  Intercourse  Sus- 
pended.— Ties  of  affection  Sundered. — Parents  Forsake  Children. — Husbands  Flee  from  Wives.— Rich 
Men  Buried  like  Paupers. — Money  and  Rank  Unavailing. — Rumble  of  the  Dead-Carts. — Activity  in  the 
Grave-yards. — They  Look  as  if  Plowed  Up. — Women  in  Childbirth  Helpless.— Their  Screams  for 
Succor. — Care  of  a  Lunatic  Patient — The  Tender  Passion  Still  Alive. — Courageous  Marriages. 
— Death  in  the  Bridal  Chamber. — Anecdotes  of  the  Clergy. — Crime,  Filth,  and  Disease. — Quacks  and 
Nostrums  Rife.— The  Celebrated  "Thieves'  Vinegar." 


"Bring out  your  dMd!"—  CRT  or  THE  DEAD-CART  DRIVERS. 


8TBCCK  WITH  THE  CHOLERA. 


UAKER  order,  cleanliness,  and  temperance,  so  characteristic  of  the 
"city  of  brotherly  love,"  did  not  save  Philadelphia  from  being  vis- 
ited, at  an  early  period  after  the  founding  of  the  republic,  by  one  of 
the  most  direful  scourges  that  ever  was  known  in  the  western  world. 
This  was  the  yellow  fever,  or  "  plague,"  in  1793,  an  epidemic  which, 
from  its  remarkable  nature  and  development,  is  entitled  to 
the  first  mention  in  an  article  like  this,  and  reminiscences  of 
which  —  deeply  interesting  and  indeed  in  some  instances 
almost  tragical — will  be  found  in  the  highest  degree 
readable,  at  the  present  day. 

Following  this,  was  the  malignant  spotted 
fever,  in  which  the  patient  had  large  rea  spots 
here  and  there  ;  it  broke  out  in  Massachusetts, 
in  1806  and  continued  until  1815.  in  the  various 
northern  states.  In  1812,  the  United  States 
army  in  New  York  and  Vermont  suffered  se- 
verely from  it.  In  the  latter  state,  it  was  the 
most  alarming  disease  ever  known.  It  usually 
attacked  persons  of  the  most  hardy  and  robust 
constitution,  and  often  proved  fatal  in  a  few 
hours ;  not  uncommonly,  the  patient  was  a 
corpse  before  a  physician  could  be  brought  to  his 
assistance. 

In  1822,  the  yellow  fever  appeared  again  in 
New  York,  with  great  virulence,  after  an  inter- 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLERA  EPIDEMICS. 


369 


mission  of  some  seventeen  years,  and 
though  the  mortality  was  much  less  exten- 
sive than  previously,  the  panic  was  even 
sharper, — the  city  south  of  the  park  being 
fenced  off  and  nearly  deserted,  families, 
merchants,  banks,  and  even  the  city  gov- 
ernment removing  to  a  distance.  But  in 
1833-5,  the  disease  was  far  more  virulent. 

In  1832,  the  Asiatic  cholera,  or  cholera 
asphyxia,  made  its  appearance  in  the 
United  States  for  the  first  time,  coming 
by  way  of  Canada.  Following  the  course 
of  the  large  rivers,  it  soon  reached  Buffalo, 
and  then  spread  irregularly,  occurring  in 
towns  and  cities  at  distances  from  each 
other,  without  affecting  intervening  dis- 
tricts till  a  subsequent  period.  In  the 
city  of  New  York,  it  appeared  June  27th, 
and  continued  two  months,  during  which 
period  there  were  three  thousand  four  hun- 
dred deaths.  In  Albany,  it  showed  itself 
at  the  same  time  as  in  New  York ;  and 
while  its  fury  was  abating  in  the  latter 
place,  it  began  to  appear  in  its  most  for- 
midable shape  in  Philadelphia,  and  in  a 
few  weeks  a  thousand  fell  victims.  About 
the  same  mortality  occurred  in  Baltimore 
and  Washington,  which  cities  the  con- 
tagion soon  reached.  It  commenced  in 
Cincinnati  in  July,  became  epidemic  in 
September,  and  continued  through  most 
of  the  summer  of  1833.  In  the  southern 
states,  it  made  great  havoc  amongst  the 
slave  population,  who  fell  ready  and  easy 
subjects  of  its  power.  Fatal,  beyond  all 
precedent,  was  the  malady,  in  New  Orleans 
and  St.  Louis.  The  middle  states  never 
before  knew  so  terrible  a  visitation. 

From  the  north,  the  disease  also  ex- 
tended itself  along  the  borders  of  the 
great  lakes,  and  soon  its  ravages  began  at 
Detroit.  The  six  eastern  states  escaped 
with  only  a  few  cases,  principally  in  the 
port  towns  of  Massachusetts,  Rhode  Island, 
and  Connecticut. 

And  now  again,  this  awful  scourge  re- 
appeared, in  1849,  to  blast  the  land  with 
death  on  every  side,  carrying  terror  to 
every  home  and  heart,  and  sweeping  tens 
of  thousands  into  the  grave  In  New 
Orleans,  it  broke  out  about  the  middle  of 
24 


December,  1848,  and  continued  through 
the  winter.  So  frightful  were  its  devasta- 
tions, that  it  is  estimated  to  have  deci- 
mated the  inhabitants  that  remained  in 
some  wards  of  the  city.  The  raging  pesti- 
lence appeared  in  New  York  in  May,  and, 
so  violent  was  its  spread,  that  during  the 
week  ending  July  21st,  more  than  seven 
hundred  deaths  occurred ;  the  mortality 
that  week  was  the  greatest  that  had  ever 
taken  place  in  any  city  in  the  United 
States,  the  deaths  by  all  diseases  number- 
ing more  than  fourteen  hundred.  In 
Boston,  the  deaths  from  cholera,  during 
June,  July,  August,  and  September,  were 
rising  six  hundred.  But  it  was  far  more 
terrible  in  Cincinnati  and  St.  Louis,  the 
victims  in  each  of  these  cities  being  up- 
wards of  six  thousand.  Over  all  the  mid- 
dle and  western  states,  this  Angel  of  Death 
spread  his  destroying  wings,  and  in  many 
parts  of  New  England.  The  third  day  of 
August,  1849,  was,  in  view  of  the  terrible 
scourge  thus  stalking  mightily  over  the 
broad  land,  appointed  by  the  president  of 
the  United  States  as  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer,  that  God  would  "avert  the  pesti- 
lence that  walketh  in  darkness  and  the 
destruction  that  wasteth  at  noonday." 

Again,  in  1853,  terror  and  panic  seized 
the  land,  from  another  visitation  of  the 
yellow  fever  or  plague.  It  spent  its  chief 
force  upon  that  oft-doomed  city,  New  Or- 
leans, where,  in  the  short  space  of  three 
months,  ten  per  cent,  of  the  whole  popu- 
lation fell  victims. 

Concerning  the  origin,  or  producing 
causes,  of  these  epidemics,  authorities 
have  differed  so  widely,  that  little  of  a 
conclusive  character,  on  these  points,  can 
be  presented  ;  and  the  same  may  be  said 
respecting  the  modes  of  treatment.  Much, 
however,  that  is  interesting  as  well  as 
profitable,  relative  to  these  awful  visita- 
tions, may  be  learned  from  the  various 
phenomena  and  incidents  that  accompa- 
nied them- 

In  no  other  place,  perhaps,  were  the 
manifestations  and  effects  of  a  deathly 
epidemic  upon  human  conduct  exhibited 
more  strikingly  than  in  the  city  of  Phila- 


370 


YELLOW  FEVEE  AND  CHOLERA  EPIDEMICS. 


delphia.  The  dread  of  the  contagion  drove 
parents  from  their  children,  and  even 
wives  from  their  husbands.  All  the  ties 
of  affection  and  consanguinity  were  rent 
asunder,  and  humanity  was  left  to  mourn 
over  its  own  selfishness,  in  the  ardor  of 
self-preservati  on. 

Such  was  the  degree  of  consternation, 
dismay  and  affright,  which  possessed 
people's  minds,  that,  according  to  Mr. 


were  afraid  to  allow  the  barbers  or  hair- 
dressers to  come  near  them,  as  instances 
had  occurred  of  some  of  them  having 
shaved  the  dead,  and  many  having  en- 
gaged as  bleeders.  Some,  who  carried 
their  caution  pretty  far,  bought  lancets 
for  themselves,  not  daring  to  allow  them- 
selves to  be  bled  with  the  lancets  of  the 
bleeders.  Many  houses  were  scarcely  a 
moment  free  from  the  smell  of  gunpowder, 


MOSCMENT  TO  THE   VICTIMS   OF  CHOLERA. 


Carey,  the  historian  of  that  period,  most 
of  the  inhabitants  who  could,  by  any 
means,  make  it  convenient,  fled  from  the 
city.  Of  those  who  remained,  many  shut 
themselves  up  in  their  houses,  being  afraid 
to  walk  the  streets.  The  smoke  of  tobacco 
being  regarded  as  a  preventive,  many 
persons,  even  women  and  small  boys,  had 
segars  almost  constantly  in  their  mouths. 
Others,  placing  full  confidence  in  garlic, 
chewed  it  almost  the  whole  day ;  some 
kept  it  in  their  pockets  and  shoes.  Many 


burned  tobacco,  sprinkled  vinegar,  etc. 
Churches,  libraries,  and  other  places  of 
publib  resort,  were  closed.  Those  persons 
who  ventured  abroad  had  handkerchiefs, 
or  sponges,  impregnated  with  vinegar  or 
camphor,  at  their  noses  ;  some  had  smell- 
ing bottles  full  of  thieves'  vinegar.  Others 
carried  pieces  of  tarred  rope  in  their  hands 
and  pockets,  also  camphor  bags  tied  around 
their  necks.  The  corpses  of  the  most  re- 
spectable citizens,  even  of  those  who  had 
not  died  of  the  epidemic,  were  carried  to 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLEKA  EPIDEMICS. 


371 


the  grave  on  the  shafts  of  a  chair,  the  horse 
driven  by  a  negro,  unattended  by  a  friend 
or  relation,  and  without  any  sort  of  cere- 
mony. People  uniformly  and  hastily  shift- 
ed their  course  at  the  sight  of  a  hearse 
coming  towards  them.  Many  never  walked 
on  the  foot-path,  but  went  in  the  middle 
of  the  streets,  to  avoid  being  infected  in 
passing  houses  wherein  people  had  died. 
Acquaintances  and  friends  avoided  each 
other  in  the  streets,  and  only  signified 
their  regard  by  a  cold  nod.  The  old 
custom  of  shaking  hands  fell  into  such 
general  disuse,  that  many  recoiled  with 
affright  at  even  the  offer  of  a  hand.  A 
person  wearing  crape,  or  having  any  other 
appearance  of  mourning,  was  shunned  like 
a  viper;  and  many  congratulated  them- 
selves highly  on  the  skill  and  address  with 
which  they  got  to  windward  of  every 
person  whom  they  met.  When,  too,  the 
citizens,  summoning  sufficient  resolution, 
walked  abroad  to  take  the  air,  the  sight  of 
the  sick-cart  conveying  patients  to  the 
hospital,  or  the  hearse  carrying  the  dead 
to  the  grave, — which  were  traveling  al- 
most the  whole  day, — soon  damped  their 
spirits,  and  caused  them  to  retrace  their 
steps  and  seek  seclusion.  These  manifest- 
ations and  characteristics  prevailed  alike 
during  the  yellow  fever  and  the  cholera. 
Consternation  was  carried  beyond  all 
bounds.  Men  of  affluent  fortunes  were 
abandoned  to  the  care  of  any  stranger, 
black  or  white,  who  could  by  entreaty  be 
procured.  In  some  cases,  no  money  or 
influence  could  procure  proper  attendance. 
With  the  poor,  the  case  was,  of  course, 
immeasurably  worse  than  with  the  rich. 
Many  of  them  perished,  without  a  human 
being  to  hand  them  a  drink  of  water,  or 
to  perform  any  medical  or  charitable  office. 
Some  of  the  horrible  and  heart-rending 
occurrences,  which  transpired  during  these 
visitations  of  yellow  fever  and  cholera, 
will  suffice  better  than  any  discussions  of 
symptoms  and  treatment,  or  any  mere 
general  representations  of  the  public  ter- 
ror and  panic,  to  show  the  nature  of  the 
calamities  that  thus  swept  over  the  land, 
carrying  desolation  and  anguish  to  so 


many  happy  homes.  The  following  are 
some  of  the  instances  referred  to,  as  rela- 
ted by  Carey,  Simpson,  and  others. 

An  old  grave  digger,  named  Sebastian, 
who  had  long  lost  the  sense  of  smelling, 
fancied  he  could  not  take  the  disorder,  and 
therefore  followed  his  business  without 
apprehension.  A  husband  and  his  wife, 
who  lay  sick  together,  wished  to  b«  in- 
terred in  the  same  grave.  Their  deaths 
happened  within  a  few  days  of  each  other. 
When  the  latter  of  the  two  was  to  be 
buried,  Sebastian  was  employed  to  dig 
open  the  other's  grave.  He  struck  upon 
and  broke  the  coffin,  and  in  stooping  down, 
inhaled  such  an  intolerable  and  deadly 
stench,  that  he  was  taken  sick  immedi- 
ately, and  in  a  day  or  two  died. 

A  man  and  his  wife,  once  in  affluent 
circumstances,  were  found  lying  dead  in 
bed,  and  between  them  was  their  child,  a 
little  infant,  who  was  sucking  its  mother'* 
breast.  How  long  they  had  lain  thus,  wag 
uncertain. 

Peculiar  in  its  sadness,  was  the  case  of 
a  woman,  whose  husband  had  just  died  of 
the  disease ;  she  was  seized  with  the  pains 
of  parturition,  and  had  nobody  to  assist 
her,  as  the  women  in  the  neighborhood 
were  afraid  if  go  into  the  house.  She  lay, 
for  a  considerable  time,  in  a  condition  of 
anguish  truly  indescribable ;  at  length, 
she  struggled  to  reach  the  window,  and 
cried  out  for  assistance.  Two  meil_  'Tass- 
ing  by,  went  up  stairs  ;  but  they  came  at 
too  late  a  stage — for  she  was  even  then 
striving  with  death — and  actually,  in  a 
few  minutes,  expired  in  their  arms. 
Another  woman,  whose  husband  and  two 
children  lay  dead  in  the  room  with  her, 
was  in  the  same  situation  as  that  of  the 
woman  just  described, — without  a  mid- 
wife, or  any  other  person  to  aid  her.  Her 
cries  at  the  window  brought  up  one  of  the 
carters  employed  for  the  relief  of  the  sick. 
With  his  assistance  she  was  delivered  of 
a  child,  which  died  in  a  few  minutes, 
as  did  the  mother,  who  was  utterly  ex- 
hausted by  her  labor,  on  account  of  the 
disorder,  and  by  the  dreadful  spectacle 
before  her.  And  thus  lay,  in  one  room, 


372 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLERA  EPIDEMICS. 


no  less   than  five  dead  bodies,  an  entire 
family,  carried  off  within  a  few  hours. 

Before  arrangements  could  be  made  and 
carried  out,  by  the  public  authorities,  to 
mitigate  the  severities  of  the  scourge, 
many  fell  victims,  whose  lives  would  oth- 
erwise, probably,  have  been  saved.  A 
servant  girl,  belonging  to  a  family  in 
which  the  malady  had  prevailed,  becom- 
ing apprehensive  of  what  might  be  her 
own  fate,  resolved  to  remove  to  a  relation's 
house,  some  distance  in  the  country.  She 
was,  however,  taken  sick  on  the  road,  and 
returned  to  town,  where  she  could  find  no 
person  willing  to  receive  her.  One  of  the 


inquired  into  the  state  of  affairs.  The 
other,  to  indulge  the  contemptible  pro- 
pensity of  hoaxing,  told  him,  that  a  coffin- 
maker,  who  had  been  employed  by  the 
committee  for  the  relief  of  the  sick,  had 
found  such  a  decrease  of  demand  two 
weeks  before,  that  he  had  a  large  supply  of 
coffins  on  hand ;  but  that  the  mortality 
had  again  so  far  increased,  that  he  had 
sold  all,  and  had  seven  journeymen  em- 
ployed day  and  night.  Alarmed  at  this 
information,  the  merchant  and  his  family 
instantly  turned  back. 

Several  instances  occurred,  of  the  drivers 
of  the  hospital  wagons,  on  their  arrival  to 


HORRORS   OF  THE  OBEAT  EPIDEMIC. 


guardians  of  the  poor  provided  a  cart,  and 
took  her  to  the  almshouse,  into  which  she 
was  refused  admittance.  She  was  brought 
back,  but  the  guardian  could  not  procure 
her  a  single  night's  lodging  ;  and  at  last, 
after  every  effort  to  procure  some  kind 
of  shelter,  the  unfortunate  creature  abso- 
lutely expired  in  the  cart. 

Of  the  various  incidents  partaking  of 
the  extravagant  and  farcical,  much  might 
be  related,  A  merchant  of  Philadelphia, 
who  had  been  absent  for  several  weeks, 
•was  returning  to  the  city  in  the  second 
week  of  November,  having  heard  that  the 
danger  was  no  more.  He  met  a  man  on 
the  road  going  from  the  city,  and  naturally 


deliver  up  their  charge,  finding,  to  their 
amazement,  the  wagons  empty.  A  lunatic, 
who  had  the  malignant  disorder,  was  ad- 
vised, by  his  neighbors,  to  go  to  the  fever 
hospital.  He  consented,  and  got  into  the 
cart;  but  soon  changing  his  mind,  he 
slipped  out  at  the  end,  unknown  to  the 
carter,  who,  after  a  while,  missing  him, 
and  seeing  him  at  a  distance  running  away, 
turned  his  horse  about,  and  trotted  hard 
after  hl~.  The  other  doubled  his  pace, 
and  the  carter  whipped  his  horse  to  a  gallop ; 
but  the  agile  lunatic  turned  a  corner,  and 
adroitly  hid  himself  in  a  house,  leaving  the 
mortified  carter  to  return,  and  deliver  an 
account  of  his  ludicrous  adventure. 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLERA  EPIDEMICS. 


373 


The  wife  of  a  man  who  lived  in  Walnut 
street,  Philadelphia,  was  seized  with  the 
disease,  and  given  over  by  the  doctors. 
The  husband  abandoned  her,  and  next 
night  lay  out  of  the  house  for  fear  of  catch- 
ing the  infection.  In  the  morning,  taking 
it  for  granted,  from  the  very  low  state  she 
had  been  in,  that  she  was  dead,  he  pur- 
chased a  coffin  for  her;  but  on  entering 
the  house,  what  was  his  astonishment  to 
find  her  much  recovered.  He  himself, 
however,  fell  sick  shortly  after,  died,  and 
was  buried  in  the  very  coffin  which  he  had 
so  precipitately  bought  for  his  wife.  An- 
other example  under  this  class,  though 
with  one  or  two  important  points  of  differ- 
ence, is  the  following :  A  woman,  whose 
husband  died,  refused  to  have  him  buried 
in  a  coffin  provided  for  her  by  one  of  her 
friends,  as  too  paltry  and  mean  ;  she  there- 
fore bought  an  elegant  and  costly  one,  and 
had  the  other  laid  by  in  the  yard.  In  a 
week  she  was  herself  a  corpse,  and  was 
buried  in  the  very  coffin  she  had  rejected. 

The  powers  of  the  god  of  love  might  be 
imagined  to  lie  dormant  amidst  such  scenes 
of  distress  as  were  exhibited  at  the  hos- 
pitals, during  this  period.  But  his  sway 
was  felt  there  with  equal  force  as  any- 
where else.  Thus  it  was,  that  John  John- 
son and  Priscilla  Hicks,  two  patients  in 
the  public  hospital,  who  had  recovered, 
and  then  officiated  as  nurses  to  the  sick, 
were  smitten  with  each  other's  charms, 
and,  procuring  leave  of  absence  for  an  hour 
or  two,  went  to  the  city,  were  joined  in  the 
bands  of  matrimony,  and  returned  to  their 
avocation  at  the  hospital.  Another  adven- 
ture of  the  same  kind,  was  that  of  Nassy, 
a  Portuguese  mulatto,  who  took  to  wife 
Hannah  Smith,  a  bouncing  German  girl, 
employed,  like  himself,  as  a  nurse.  An 
instance  of  similar  attachment  is  related  as 
having  occurred  in  New  Orleans,  when 
the  epidemic  was  at  its  height,  and  the 
whole  city  was  sunk  in  grief  and  mourn- 
ing. A  smiling  happy  couple  appeared 
one  morning  before  a  Catholic  clergyman, 
and  requested  him  to  proclaim  the  bans  of 
their  marriage  the  next  day.  The  rever- 
end gentleman  was  surprised  that  any 


persons  should  desire  to  get  married  at 
such  a  time  of  general  misery  and  distress, 
and  urged  the  couple  that  they  should 
postpone  it  until  the  epidemic  was  over. 
But  they  declined  doing  so,  and  the  priest, 
indignant  at  what  he  considered  ill-timed 
levity,  turned  away,  and  positively  refused 
to  officiate  in  their  behalf,  stating  that  he 
was  too  busy  attending  the  sick  and  ad- 
ministering the  last  consolations  to  the 
dying.  The  impatient  pair  next  proceeded 
to  the  clergyman  of  St.  Patrick's,  who 
exhibited  a  like  surprise  at  the  urgency  of 
the  parties,  and  at  first  refused  to  sanction 
such  a  marriage,  but  yielded  at  last  to 
their  importunities.  After  due  publica- 
tion of  the  bans  they  were  married,  and 
retired  to  their  new  home  to  spend  the 
honeymoon.  In  a  few  days,  the  bridal 
chamber  presented  a  solemn  and  affecting 
spectacle.  The  dead  body  of  the  husband 
lay  on  a  couch,  and  the  young  and  lovely 
bride  writhed  in  agony  on  the  bed  ;  she 
quickly  followed  him,  and  their  honeymoon 
was  passed  in  another  world. 

Notwithstanding  the  devotedness  and 
self-sacrifice  of  the  clergy,  generally  speak- 
ing, during  these  calamities,  and  th« 
number  who  thus  lost  their  lives,  there 
was  occasionally  an  exception.  An  anec- 
dote, illustrating  this  fact,  used  to  be 
related  by  the  Hon.  Edward  Livingston, 
who  was  mayor  of  New  York,  while  the 
plague  raged  in  that  city,  and  which  will 
bear  repetition :  The  violence  of  the  epi- 
demic was  beginning  to  abate  ;  its  attacks 
were  indeed  not  less  numerous  than  before, 
but  the  proportion  of  its  victims  was  daily 
diminishing.  I  had  a  few  minutes  at  my 
own  disposal  (says  Livingston),  and  I  had 
gone  one  evening,  in  a  carriage,  a  short 
distance  from  the  city,  to  breathe  the  pure 
air  of  the  country,  when  I  met  on  the  road, 
at  the  very  moment  when  I  was  about  to 
return  toward  the  city,  a  protestant  minis- 
ter— married,  and  the  father  of  a  numerous 
family.  He,  like  the  rest  of  his  co-laborers, 
had  fled  the  fatal  contagion.  He  was  a 
man  truly  pious,  of  exemplary  life,  and 
presenting  in  his  own  person  to  his  flock 
an  example  of  the  Christian  virtues  which 


374 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLERA  EPIDEMICS. 


he  preached  to  them  with  sincerity  and 
eloquence.  And  yet,  in  the  hour  of 
danger,  he  had  not  remained,  but  had  fled, 
— not  for  himself, — he  had  been  carried 
away  by  the  panic  with  which  his  family 
were  seized.  He  asked — 

"  What  is  going  on  in  town,  Edward  ? 
Is  the  sickness  abating  ?  " 

"  We  are  doing  all  we  can,  my  reverend 
friend.  We  are  taking  care  of  the  sick. 
The  physicians  are  discharging  most  nobly 
their  glorious  mission — but  what  can  we 
do  for  men's  souls  ?  The  proper  material 
succors  abound,  for  never  was  charity  more 
lavish  of  its  offerings  ;  but  the  bread  of  the 
Word  is  wanting.  The  wretched  ask  in 
vain  for  those  physicians  of  the  mind  dis- 
eased, whose  consolations  can  cure  the 
wounds  of  the  spirit  and  rob  death  of  its 
terrors.  Well — what  do  you  say  ?  Here 
is  room  for  you  in  my  carriage.  Come  in  ! 
— the  ripe  harvest  is  falling  to  the  ground, 
and  there  are  no  reapers  to  gather  it." 

The  reverend  gentleman  pressed  Liv- 
ingston's hand — pointed  to  his  wife  and 
children  who  were  at  the  door  of  a  small 
house  near  the  road — and  walked  away  in 
silence.  Had  he  belonged  to  any  other 
profession,  his  anxiety  for  his  family 
might  well  have  excused  him  for  sharing 
in  that  feeling  of  terror  which,  seizing 
like  a  panic  upon  all  hearts,  bid  fair  to 
depopulate  the  city.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
spectacle  of  sadness  calculated  to  appal  the 
stoutest  heart  —  the  mournful  gloom  of 
those  empty  streets,  their  silence  broken 
only  by  the  rumbling  of  the  dead-cart  and 
the  driver's  hoarse  cry,  "Bring  out  your 
dead  ! " — those  houses  left  open  and  fully 
furnished,  from  which  the  owners  had  fled 
— that  forest  of  shipping,  deserted  and 
silent  as  those  of  the  western  wilds, — the 
heart  recoiled  from  such  sights  and  con- 
tacts. On  the  masts  of  some  of  these  ves- 
sels hung  still  the  unfurled  sail.  On  the 
wharves,  too,  might  often  be  seen  the  bales 
of  merchandise  which  terror  had  left  there. 
There  was  no  danger  of  their  being  carried 
off.  Death  was  uppermost  in  men's 
minds ;  business  was  forgotten  ;  the  grave- 
yards looked  like  ploughed  fields. 


But  the  anecdote  of  Livingston  and  the 
clerical  friend  is  well  offset  by  one  related 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Whitall,  a  well-known 
Episcopal  clergyman  of  New  Orleans. 
Walking  on  the  levee  in  pursuit  of  objects 
of  charity,  one  day  at  noon,  during  the 
epidemic  period,  he  was  attracted  to  a 
number  of  laborers  collected  around  some 
object.  Elbowing  his  way  through  the 
crowd,  Mr.  Whitall  found  a  poor  laborer 
lying  on  the  ground,  violently  sick  with 
the  prevailing  disease,  exposed  to  the 
sun,  and  suffering  extremely.  The  crowd, 
though  pitying  his  condition,  appeared  to 
be  either  too  much  frightened  to  render 
him  any  aid,  or  ignorant  of  how  they 
could  relieve  him.  But  the  experienced 
Samaritan  did  not  long  consider  his  duty 
on  such  an  occasion.  Seizing  one  of  the 
wheelbarrows  used  in  carrying  bales  of 
cotton  from  the  wharves  to  the  ships,  he 
rolled  it  up  alongside  the  sick  man,  and 
laying  him  gently  in  it,  wheeled  his  poor 
patient  to  the  nearest  hospital,  and  there 
secured  for  him  such  attendance  as  finally 
led  to  his  recovery. 

As  is  usual,  in  times  of  threatened  epi- 
demic, the  authorities  of  most  of  the  prin- 
cipal cities  made  due  provision  to  avert  its 
approach,  by  stringent  sanitary  regula- 
tions, or,  failing  in  this,  established  hospi- 
tals for  the  sick,  retreats  in  the  suburbs 
for  those  residing  in  the  infected  districts, 
and  liberal  appropriations  of  food  and 
money  for  the  thousands  of  persons  thrown 
out  of  employment  at  such  a  crisis.  In 
some  instances,  these  resolute  proceedings 
were  objected  to.  A  few  persons  refused 
to  go,  and  one  man,  who  had  been  forcibly 
removed,  returned  clandestinely  and  shut 
himself  in  his  house  ;  his  foolish  obstinacy 
was  not  discovered  until  he  was  found  dead 
in  the  place  he  was  so  unwilling  to  leave. 
Several  merchants,  too,  laughing  at  the 
precautions  of  the  authorities,  persisted  in 
visiting  their  counting-houses  situated  in 
the  dangerous  localities;  their  death 
atoned  for  their  rashness. 

Among  the  women,  the  mortality  was 
not  so  great  as  among  the  men,  nor  among 
the  old  and  infirm  as  among  the  middle- 


YELLOW  FEVER  AND  CHOLEKA  EPIDEMICS. 


375 


aged  and  robust.  Tipplers  and  drunkards, 
as  well  as  gourmands,  were  very  suscepti- 
ble to  the  disorder ;  of  these,  many  were 
seized,  and  the  recoveries  were  very  rare. 
To  men  and  women  of  illicit  pleasure,  it 
was  equally  fatal ;  the  wretched,  debilitated 
state  of  their  constitutions,  produced  by  lust 
and  excess,  rendered  them  an  easy  prey  to 
epidemic  disease,  which  very  soon  termi- 
nated their  miserable  career.  A  vast  num- 
ber of  female  domestics  likewise  fell  victims. 

Dreadful  was  the  destruction  among  the 
poor ;  indeed,  it  is  computed  that  at  least 
seven-eighths  of  the  number  of  the  dead 
were  of  that  class.  The  occupants  of 
filthy  houses  severely  expiated  their  neg- 
lect of  cleanliness  and  decency.  Whole 
families,  in  such  houses,  sunk  into  one 
silent,  undistinguishing  grave.  The  mor- 
tality in  confined  streets,  small  alleys,  and 
close  houses,  debarred  of  a  free  circulation 
of  air,  greatly  exceeded  that  ill  the  large 
streets  and  well-aired  houses. 

Of  the  committee  appointed  in  Phila- 
delphia for  the  relief  of  the  sick,  it  is 
related  by  one  of  their  number,  as  a  fact 
of  peculiar  physiological  interest,  that  sev- 
eral of  its  members  declared  that  some  of 
the  most  pleasurable  hours  of  their  exist- 
ence were  spent  during  the  heighth  of  the 
fever.  They  were  released  from  the  cares 
of  business ;  their  committee  duties  fully 
occupied  their  minds,  and  engrossed  their 
attention  for  the  entire  day  ;  they  went  to 
the  state-house — the  place  of  meeting — in 
the  morning,  after  an  early  breakfast ; 
took  a  cold  collation  there  at  dinner-time, 
the  materials  of  which  were  constantly 
spread  on  a  sideboard ;  and  there  they 
remained  till  night,  when  they  returned 
to  their  families ;  custom  robbed  the  situ- 
ation of  its  terrors.  The  only  interruption 
to  this  state  of  their  feelings,  arose  from 
the  death  of  some  friend  or  intimate  ac- 
quaintance, or  of  some  person  whom  they 
had  perhaps  seen  alive  a  few  hours  or  a 
day  before.  But  even  these  sad  impres- 


sions, though  for  the  time  strong  and 
afflictive,  soon  wore  away,  and  the  tran- 
quil state  returned. 

Empiricism  and  quackery  were  not  in- 
active, even  in  times  like  these  ;  and  the 
cholera  was  no  exception  among  those 
"  ills  to  which  flesh  is  heir,"  for  the  cure 
of  which  charlatans  had  their  "  unfailing 
specific."  But  of  all  the  nostrums  thus 
brought  forward,  the  "  Vinegar  of  Four 
Thieves"  was  the  most  universal.  A 
story  was  tied  to  its  tail  which  gave  it  a 
popularity :  Centuries  ago,  a  dreadful 
plague  raged  in  Marseilles.  The  people 
fled ;  the  city  was  visited  by  no  ona 
except  four  thieves,  who  daily  entered, 
robbed  the  houses,  and  carried  their  plun- 
der to  the  mountains.  The  astonished 
citizens,  who  had  hid  themselves  in  the 
dens  and  caves  of  the  earth,  for  fear  of  the 
plague,  saw  them  daily  pass  and  re-pass 
with  their  ill-gotten  gear,  and  wondered 
most  profoundly  why  the  plague  did  not 
seize  them.  In  process  of  time,  however, 
one  of  these  thieves  was  captured;  they 
were  just  going  to  break  him  on  the  wheel, 
when  he  said  if  they  would  spare  his  life 
he  would  teach  them  to  make  the  vinegar 
of  four  thieves,  by  means  of  which  they 
had  escaped  the  plague  when  robbing  the 
city, — a  request  which  was  granted.  The 
"  secret "  thus  imparted,  modern  quacks 
claimed  to  make  use  of  in  the  preparation 
of  a  panacea  for  the  cholera !  Of  course 
the  venders  got  rich,  for,  during  the  epi- 
demic, multitudes  credulously  believed  in 
the  efficiency  of  smelling  thieves'  vinegar, 
and  treated  their  noses  accordingly. 

Terribly  as  some  of  the  cities  of  the 
United  States  have  suffered  from  epidem- 
ics, they  bear  no  comparison  in  this 
respect  to  the  devastations  by  cholera  in 
the  cities  of  London  and  Paris, — in  the 
latter  of  which,  with  true  French  sensibil- 
ity, the  people  have  erected  one  of  the 
finest  monuments  commemorative  of  the 
unfortunate  victims. 


XL  VII. 

MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN,  A  NOTED  MILLION- 
AIRE OF  BOSTON,  BY  PROF.  JOHN  W.  WEBSTER,  OF 
HARVARD  COLLEGE.— 1849. 


High  Social  Position  of  the  Parties. — Instantaneous  Outburst  of  Surprise,  Alarm,  and  Terror,  in  the 
Community,  on  the  Discovery  of  the  Deed. — Remarkable  Chain  of  Circumstances  Leading  to  the 
Murderer's  Detection  — Solemn  and  Exciting  Trial  — Account  of  the  Mortal  Blow  and  Disposal  of  the 
Remains. — Similar  Case  of  Colt  and  Adams. — Parkman's  Wealth  and  Fame  — Mysterious  Disappear- 
ance, November  23.— Appointment  with  Professor  Webster,  that  Day.— Their  Unhappy  Pecuniary 
Relations. — Search  for  the  Missing  Millionaire. — Webster's  Call  on  Parkman's  Brother. — Explains 
the  Interview  of  November  23.— No  Trace  of  Parkman  after  that  Date.— The  Medical  College 
Explored.— Scene  in  Webster's  Rooms. — The  Tea-Chest,  Vault,  and  Furnace.— Human  Remains 
Found  There. — Identified  as  Dr.  Parkman's.— Arrest  of  Webster  at  Night. — Attempt  at  Suicide  on 

.  the  Spot.— Behavior  in  Court.— His  Atrocious  Guilt  Proved.— Rendering  the  Verdict.— He  Boldly 
Addresses  the  Jury. — Asserts  His  Entire  Innocence. — Final  Confession  of  the  Crime  —Hung  near  the 
Spot  of  His  Birth.— The  Similar  and  Tragical  Case  of  John  C.  Colt,  Murderer  of  Samuel  Adams. 


"  It  doth  seem  too  bloody. 

First,  to  cut  off  the  head,  then  hack  the  limbs) — 
Like  wrath  in  death,  and  malice  afterwards." 


EMORABLE,  almost  beyond  a  parallel,  in  the  crim- 
inal annals  of  America,  is  the  great  crime  which 
finds  its  record  in  the  following  pages.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  parties,  in  their  social  and  professional 
relations,  the  nature  of  the  proof,  and,  indeed,  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  case,  invest  the  deed  with 
a  universal  and  permanent  interest. 

On  Friday,  the  twenty-third  of  November,  1849, 
Dr.  George  Parkman,  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  best 
known  citizens  of  Boston,  of  an  old  family,  and 
highly  respected,  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Medical  College  there,  about  sixty  years  of 

PBOF.  WEBSTER'S  MUKDKR  APPLIANCES,  age,  of  rather  remarkable  person  and  very  active 
habits,  was  walking  about  the  city,  and  transacting  business  as  usual — one  of  his  last 
acts,  on  that  day,  being  the  purchase  of  some  lettuce  for  the  dinner  of  his  invalid  daugh- 
ter ;  the  only  other  members  of  his  family  being  his  wife,  and  one  son,  who  was  then 
traveling  on  the  continent  of  Europe.  Being  one  of  the  most  punctual  of  men,  his 
absence  from  the  family  table  at  half-past  three  o'clock  excited  surprise ;  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  same  day  there  was  serious  apprehension,  his  absence  still  continuing 
unexplained.  It  was  thought  best  to  postpone  all  public  search  until  Saturday  after- 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


377 


noon ;  at  two  o'clock,  therefore,  there  being 
no  tidings  of  him,  a  most  vigorous  and 
minute  search  was  instituted  by  his 
friends,  with  the  aid  of  the  police  force  of 
Boston  and  of  advertisements  offering 
large  rewards  for  such  intelligence  as 
should  lead  to  his  discovery.  He  was 
described  as  sixty  years  of  age,  about  five 
feet  and  nine  inches  high,  gray  hair,  thin 
face,  with  a  scar  under  the  chin,  light  com- 
plexion, and  usually  a  rapid  walker;  he 
was  dressed  in  a  dark  frock  coat,  dark  pan- 
taloons, purple  silk  vest,  dark  figured  black 
stock,  and  black  hat.  The  search  was 
continued  without  intermission  until  the 
following  Friday,  men  being  sent  in  all 
directions  for  fifty  or  sixty  miles,  on  all 
the  railroads,  to  all  the  towns  on  the  coast ; 
they  searched  over  land  and  water,  and 
under  water. 

It  was  known  the  next  Sunday  follow- 
ing his  disappearance,  that  on  the  previous 
Friday,  at  half-past  one  o'clock,  Doctor 
Parkman  had,  by  appointment,  met  with 
Dr.  John  W.  Webster  (Professor  of  Chem- 
istry in  Harvard  University,  and  Lecturer 
on  Chemistry  in  the  Medical  College,  Bos- 
ton,) in  his  rooms  at  the  Medical  College, 
and  no  further  trace  could  be  found ;  the 
fact  of  this  interview  having  been  first 
communicated  by  Professor  Webster. 

The  nature  of  this  interview,  and  the 
circumstances  under  which  it  took  place, 
may  be  here  stated.  In  1842,  Doctor  Park- 
man had  lent  Professor  Webster,  on  his 
promissory  note,  four  hundred  dollars,  and 
in  1847  a  further  advance  was  made  to 
Professor  Webster  by  Doctor  Parkman  and 
some  other  parties,  in  acknowledgment  of 
which  there  was  a  promissory  note  given 
Doctor  Parkman  for  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred and  thirty-two  dollars,  payable  by 
yearly  installments  in  four  years ;  a  balance 
due  on  a  former  note,  to  the  amount  of 
three  hundred  and  thirty-two  dollars, 
being  included.  Doctor  Parkman  had  held 
two  mortgages ;  one  to  secure  the  four 
hundred  dollar  note,  which  was  given  in 
1842,  and  another  which  secured  that  note, 
and  the  other  large  note  given  in  1847. 
The  mortgage  which  was  given  in  1847, 


covered  all  Professor  Webs-ter's  household 
furniture,  his  books,  and  all  his  minerals, 
and  other  objects  of  natural  history.  That 
cabinet,  however,  he  secretly  disposed  of, 
so  that  all  that  was  left  to  secure  that 
mortgage  was  the  household  furniture,  and 
what  books  he  may  have  had.  From  a 
memorandum,  prepared  in  April,  1849,  it 
was  shown  that  the  amount  of  Professor 
Webster's  debt  to  Doctor  Parkman  was,  at 
that  time,  four  hundred  and  fifty-six  dol- 
lars, being  made  up  of  three  items  due  at 
different  times.  Doctor  Parkman  had  for 
some  time  pressed  urgently  for  the  balance 
due  to  himself,  and  there  were  frequent 
and  by  no  means  friendly  communications 
between  the  parties  on  the  subject. 

The  account  given  by  Professor  Web- 
ster to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Francis  Parkman — 
with  whom  he  was  on  intimate  terms, 
having  formerly  been  a  member  of  his 
congregation,  and  having  very  recently 
received  from  him  pastoral  offices, — of  the 
last  interview  with  his  missing  brother, 
was,  that  he  called  upon  Doctor  Parkman 
at  half-past  nine  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
Friday,  November  twenty-third,  and  ar- 
ranged that  tne  doctor  should  meet  him  at 
the  college  at  half-past  one ;  that  Doptor 
Parkman  came  at  that  hour,  having  some 
papers  in  his  hand,  and  received  from 
Professor  Webster  four  hundred  and 
eighty-three  dollars,  and  some  odd  cents, 
upon  which  Doctor  Parkman  took  out  one 
of  the  notes,  and  hurriedly  dashing  his  pen 
across  the  signature,  went  away  in  great 
haste,  leaving  the  note  behind  him,  saying, 
as  he  left  the  room,  that  he  would  have  the 
mortgage  canceled.  On  the  last  interview 
between  them  in  the  presence  of  any 
witness,  and  which  took  place  in  the  col- 
lege on  the  previous  Monday,  Doctor  Park- 
man indignantly  complained  to  Professor 
Webster  that  the  cabinet  of  minerals,  which 
was  mortgaged  to  him  in  security  of  the 
advances  he  made,  had  been  afterwards 
fraudulently  sold  to  his  brother-in-law,  Mr. 
Robert  G.  Shaw ;  and  to  another  person 
he  made  some  very  severe  remarks  in  rela- 
tion to  this  transaction,  substantially,  if 
not  in  express  terms,  charging  Professor 


378 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


Webster  with  dishonesty.  At  parting,  Doc- 
tor Parkman  is  reported  to  have  said  with 
much  energy,  "  something  must  be  done 
to-morrow  !  "  The  following  day,  Profes- 
sor Webster  sent  a  note  to  Doctor  Park- 
man, in  response  to  which  the  doctor  went 
out  to  Cambridge,  on  Thursday,  to  Profes- 
sor Webster's  house. 

Ever}'  clue  discovered  led  the  searchers 
back  to  the  medical  college  in  Boston,  and 
there  ended;  no  person  being  to  be  found 
"who  had  spoken  with  Doctor  Parkman' 
after  his  interview  with  Professor  Webster. 
Along  with  other  buildings,  the  college 
was  searched ;  first  on  Monday — slightly, 
and  merely  by  way  of  excuse  for  searching 
other  houses  in  the  neighborhood,  —  and 
again  upon  Tuesday,  but  with  no  serious 
suspicions  and  witli  no  discovery,  Profes- 
sor Webster  cheerfully  accompanying  the 
officers  through  his  own  apartments. 

In  the  meantime,  another  investigation 
had  been  going  on  in  the  hands  of  Little- 
field,  the  janitor  of  the  college,  who  had  as 
early  as  Sunday  evening  begun  to  enter- 
tain suspicions,  which  all  his  subsequent 
assiduous  watching  increased,  and  which 
led  to  the  discovery,  upon  Friday,  in  the 
laboratory,  and  in  a  vault  connected  with 
it,  of  certain  human  remains,  believed  to 
be  those  of  Doctor  Parkman,  and  to  the 
apprehension  and  ultimately  to  the  trial  of 
Professor  Webster  on  the  charge  of 
murder.  It  was  a  case,  in  comparison 
with  which,  those  of  Hare,  Avery,  Robin- 
son, Strang,  Ward,  Washburn,  Thomas, 
and  Rogers,  appear  but  ordinary. 

The  premises  in  the  medical  college  used 
by  Professor  Webster,  consisted  of  a  lec- 
ture-room in  front;  an  upper  laboratory 
behind  the  lecture-room,  furnished  with  a 
stove,  water  and  a  sink,  and  a  small  room 
adjoining,  where  chemical  materials  were 
kept  These  were  on  the  first  floor.  On 
the  basement  story  there  was  a  lower  lab- 
oratory, reached  by  a  staircase  from  the 
upper  one ;  this  contained  an  assay  fur- 
nace, was  provided  with  water  and  a  sink, 
had  a  store-room  adjoining,  and  a  private 
closet,  with  an  opening  into  a  vault  at  the 
base  of  the  building,  into  which  vault  the 


sea-water  had  access  through  the  stones  of 
the  wall,  which  had  been  some  years 
before  slightly  pushed  out  of  their  original 
position.  Into  this  vault  there  was  no 
opening  except  that  in  the  private  closet. 
After  all  the  other  parts  of  the  college  had 
been  repeatedly  searched  without  success, 
the  janitor  resolved  to  make  an  examina- 
tion of  this  vault,  which  he  effected  by 
secretly  breaking  a  hole  through  the  brick 
and  lime  wall,  at  a  point  almost  directly 
under  the  private  closet,  taking  care  to 
work  only  during  Professor  Webster's 
absence. 


On  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  the  thirtieth 
of  November,  exactly  a  week  after  Doctor 
Parkman's  disappearance,  the  opening  was 
made  ;  and  there  were  discovered,  lying  in 
the  vault,  parts  of  a  male  human  body. 
These  consisted  of  the  pelvis  or  hip  bones, 
the  right  thigh  from  the  hip  to  the  knee, 
and  the  left  leg,  from  the  knee  to  the 
ankle. 

In  consequence  of  this  disclosure,  Pro- 
fessor Webster  was  immediately  appre- 
hended; and  a  more  careful  search  was 
made  in  the  laboratory  on  the  next  and 
the  following  days,  which  resulted  in  fur- 
ther discoveries.  Buried  among  tan  in  a 
tea-chest,  and  covered  with  specimens  of 
minerals,  there  were  found  a  large  hunt- 
ing-knife ;  a  thorax  or  chest,  with  both 
clavicles  and  scapulae  attached,  and  having 
a  perforation  in  the  region  of  the  heart ; 
and  a  left  thigh,  to  which  a  piece  of  string 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


379 


was  fastened.  In  the  ashes  of  the  furnace, 
also,  were  found  grains  of  gold,  a  pearl 
shirt  button,  a  human  tooth,  blocks  of 
mineral  teeth,  and  about  fifty  fragments 
of  bone  belonging  to  the  skull,  face,  and 
other  parts  of  the  human  body.  There 
was  also  found  in  the  laboratory  a  largo 
double-edged  sheath-knife — called  also  a 
Turkish  knife — a  small  saw,  a  hammer, 
and  some  other  articles. 

In  arresting  Professor  "Webster,  three 
of  the  Boston  police  proceeded  at  night, 
under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Clapp,  in  a 
coach,  to  his  residence  in  Cambridge,  on 
knocking  at  the  door  of  which  and  inquir- 
ing for  the  professor,  the  account  of  what 
transpired  is  as  follows  :  That  he  came  for- 
ward to  see  what  was  wanted ;  we  told  him 
that  we  wanted  him  to  go  with  us  and  as- 
sist at  one  more  search  of  the  medical  col- 
lege. He  said  something  about  its  hav- 
ing been  searched  two  or  three  times 
before,  but  was  very  willing  to  accompany 
us,  and  putting  off  his  slippers,  drew  on 
his  boots,  and  came  out.  Just  as  we 
started,  he  remarked  that  he  had  forgotten 
his  keys,  and  would  go  back  and  get  them ; 
he  was  told  that  they  had  keys  enough  to 
unlock  all  the  rooms  in  the  college,  and  it 
would  not  be  necessary  for  him  to  go  back 
after  them — he  said  it  was  very  well,  and 
got  into  the  coach.  The  driver  turned 
toward  Boston,  and  on  the  way  Professor 
Webster  conversed  on  indifferent  subjects. 
The  conversation  finally  fell  upon  the  dis- 
appearance of  Doctor  Parkman.  Profes- 
sor Webster  remarked  that  a  Mrs.  Bent, 
of  Cambridge,  had  seen  Doctor  Parkman 
at  a  very  late  hour  on  the  Friday  evening 
when  he  disappeared,  and  he  said  as  she 
lived  near  the  bridge,  it  might  be  well  to 
call  and  see  her ;  this  was  declined,  with 
the  reply  that  they  could  go  some  other 
time. 

On  the  party  coming  over  the  bridge, 
Professor  Webster  asked  if  anything  fur- 
ther had  been  done  in  the  search  for  the 
doctor ;  he  was  told  that  the  doctor's  hat 
had  been  found  in  the  water  at  Charles- 
town,  and  that  the  river  had  been  dragged 
above  and  below  the  bridge.  As  the  coach 


went  along,  the  driver  passed  beyond  the 
street  leading  to  the  college,  and  directed 
his  way  up  towards  the  jail.  Professor 
Webster  remarked  that  he  was  going  in  a 
wrong  direction.  To  this,  policeman  Clapp 
made  reply,  that  the  coachman  was  a  new 
hand  and  somewhat  green,  but  he  would 
doubtless  discover  and  rectify  his  mistake. 
This  reason  satisfied  him.  The  coachman 
still  drove  on,  and  shortly  after  arrived  at 
the  jail.  Clapp  got  out  of  the  coach  and 
went  into  the  jail,  to  see  if  there  were  any 
spectators  there — found  there  were  not, 
and  then  went  back  and  said  to  those  in 
the  coach,  "I  wish,  gentlemen,  you  would 
alight  here  for  a  few  moments."  The  offi- 
cers got  out  of  the  coach,  and  the  professor 
followed.  They  passed  into  the  outer 
office,  and  Clapp  then  said,  "  Gentlemen, 
I  guess  we  had  better  walk  into  the  inner 
office."  Looking  strangely  at  Clapp,  Pro- 
fessor Webster  said — 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this?" 
"  Professor  Webster,"  replied  Mr.  Clapp, 
"  you  will  perhaps  remember  that  in  com- 
ing over  Cambridge  bridge,  I  told  you  that 
the  river  above  and  below  it  had  been 
dragged;  we  have  also  been  dragging  in 
the  college,  and  we  have  been  looking  for 
the  body  of  Dr.  Parkman.  You  are  now 
in  custody,  on  the  charge  of  being  his  mur- 
derer !  " 

On  hearing  this*  announcement,  he  ut- 
tered two  or  three  sentences  which  were 
not  distinctly  understood,  but  which  were 
supposed  at  the  time  to  refer  to  the  nature 
of  the  crime  with  which  he  was  charged; 
he  finally  spoke  plainly,  and  said  he  would 
like  his  family  to  be  told  of  his  arrest. 
Mr.  Clapp  replied,  that  if  his  family  were 
informed,  as  he  requested,  it  would  be  a 
sad  night  to  them,  and  advised  him  far- 
ther— as  he  was  beginning  to  talk — that 
he  would  better  not  say  anything  to  any- 
body at  that  time.  On  afterwards  carry- 
ing the  prisoner  to  the  college  and  labora- 
tory, he  was  ^greatly  agitated,  and  looked 
as  though  he  did  not  know  what  was  going 
on  about  him.  He  appeared  to  act  pre- 
cisely as  some  persons  are  known  to  when 
in  delirium  tremens ;  some  one  handed 


380 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAK 


him  water,  but  he  could  not  drink,  and 
snapped  at  the  glass  like  a  mad  dog. 
Concerning  this  period,  Professor  Web- 
ster states,  in  his  own  words :  '  When  I 
found  the  carriage  was  stopping  at  the 
jail,  I  was  sure  of  my  fate.  Before  leav- 
ing the  carriage  I  took  a  dose  of  strych- 
nine from  my  pocket  and  swallowed  it.  I 
had  prepared  it  in  the  shape  of  a  pill  be- 
fore I  left  my  laboratory  on  the  twenty- 
third.  I  thought  I  could  not  bear  to  sur- 
vive detection.  I  thought  it  was  a  large 
dose.  The  state  of  my  nervous  system 
probably  defeated  its  action  partially.' 

After  a  long  investigation  of  the  case, 
the  grand  jury  found  an  indictment  against 


the  prisoner  for  the  murder  of  Doctor 
Parkman,  which  came  on  for  trial  at  Bos- 
ton, before  Chief  Justice  Shaw  and  three 
associate  justices,  Wilde,  Metcalf,  and 
Dewey,  of  the  supreme  judicial  court  of 
Massachusetts,  upon  the  nineteenth  of 
March,  1850.  Some  time  before  the 
judges  took  their  places  upon  the  bench, 
Professor  Webster, — until  now  the  inti- 
mate companion  of  senators,  judges,  di- 
vines, men  of  literature  and  science — 
entered,  and  immediately  took  his  seat  in 
the  felon's  dock.  His  step  was  light  and 
elastic,  in  crossing  towards  his  place,  and 
his  countenance  betrayed  a  marked  degree 
of  calm  and  dignified  composure.  On  sit- 
ting down,  he  smiled,  as  he  saluted  several 
of  his  friends  and  acquaintances,  to  some 


of  whom  he  familiarly  nodded ;  and  a 
ftranger  would  have  taken  him  for  an  or- 
dinary spectator.  He  wore  his  spectacles, 
and  sat  with  ease  and  dignity  in  the  dock, 
occasionally  shaking  hands  with  friends. 
The  countenance  of  Professor  Webster  in- 
dicated strong  animal  passions,  and  irasci- 
ble temperament.  The  cheek-bones  high, 
and  the  mouth,  with  compressed  lips,  be- 
trayed great  resolution  and  firmness  of 
character.  The  forehead  inclined  to  an- 
gular, rather  lowr  and  partially  retreating. 
Standing  below  the  middle  height,  and  by 
no  means  a  man  of  muscular  strength,  his 
general  appearance  made  no  very  favorable 
impression.  On  the  reading  of  the  indict- 
ment, by  the  clerk,  the  prisoner  stood  up 
in  the  dock  and  listened  with  marked  at- 
tention. Almost  every  eye  was  turned 
towards  him  at  this  time,  but  he  exhibited 
the  same  self-possession  and  determined 
control  as  from  the  first,  pleading  'Not 
Guilty,'  in  a  strong  and  emphatic  tone  of 
voice.  Ex-Governor  Clifford  was  his  sen- 
ior counsel. 

The  trial  lasted  during  eleven  days, 
there  having  been  no  fewer  than  one  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  witnesses  examined — 
forty-seven  of  them  being  called  on  behalf 
of  the  accused,  including  his  professional 
friends  and  neighbors,  Presidents  Sparks 
and  Walker,  Professors  Peirce,  Bowen, 
Hosford,  Palfrey,  and  W3'man.  Scientific 
testimony  was  also  given  by  Prof.  0.  W. 
Holmes,  and  others ;  and  the  court  sat 
eight  or  nine  hours  each  day.  The  testi- 
mony was  of  a  most  deeply  interesting 
and  exciting  character.  The  various  parts 
of  the  body  found  in  the  vault,  furnace, 
and  tea-chest,  were,  by  the  marvelous  and 
beautiful  science  of  anatomy,  under  the 
skillful  hand  of  Prof.  Jeffries  Wyman,  re- 
integrated, and  found  to  constitute  a 
body,  positively  recognized  by  some  of 
Doctor  Parkman's  intimate  associates  as 
his.  Doctor  Keep  identified  the  mineral 
teeth  as  the  set  made  by  him  for  the  doc- 
tor. The  general  figure  and  appearance 
indicated  by  the  remains,  including  a  very 
peculiar  hairiness  of  the  back,  corresponded 
perfectly  with  Doctor  Parkman's;  the 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


381 


height,  which,  on  the  evidence  of  the  anat- 
omists examined,  'could  be  determined 
certainly  within  half  an  inch,'  was  just 
the  same ;  the  form  of  the  lower  jaw,  too, 
shown  by  four  fragments  of  the  right  half, 
implied  a  rising  chin,  which  was  so  promi- 
nent a  feature  of  the  doctor.  Every  cir- 
cumstance brought  forward  tended  to  show 
that  Doctor  Parkman's  last  known  where- 
abouts was  at  the  medical  college,  on  the 
day  when  he  was  there  to  meet  Professor 
Webster;  that  the  remains  found  in  the 
apartments  of  the  latter  were  those  of  the 
doctor;  that  the  professor,  during  the 
week  succeeding  the  day  of  Doctor  Park- 
man's disappearance,  was  locked  in  his 
laboratory  at  unusual  hours ;  that  during 
that  week,  intense  fires  had  been  kept  up 
in  the  furnace,  and  water  was  used  in  pro- 
digious quantities.  So  overwhelming  was 
the  evidence  substantiating  these  and  kin- 
dred facts,  and  so  strong  and  unbroken  the 
chain  of  circumstances  which  connected 
Professor  Webster's  movements  with  the 
great  and  awful  deed,  that  the  verdict  of 
guilty  seemed  inevitable,  when  the  ques- 
tion should  be  finally  passed  upon  by  the 
jury.  But,  through  all  the  protracted 
trial,  the  prisoner  maintained  perfect  com- 
posure, even  when  facts  and  objects  were 
disclosed  which  would  have  made  most 
men  tremble.  He  also  had  the  hardihood 
to  address  the  jury,  previous  to  the  charge 
from  the  bench,  explaining  away  the  evi- 
dence against  him,  and  asserting  his  en- 
tire innocence. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  judge's  charge, 
the  case  was  committed  to  the  jur}',  and 
in  about  three  hours  they  returned  to  de- 
liver their  verdict.  Professor  Webster  also 
soon  appeared  in  the  charge  of  an  officer ; 
he  moved  with  a  quick,  nervous  step,  and 
took  his  place  in  a  chair  beside  the  prison- 
er's dock,  which  he  soon  after  changed  for 
the  arm-chair  in  the  iron  picket  inclosures. 
His  appearance  was  pale  and  thoughtful, 
with  a  serious  dejectedness  which  was  ap- 
parent in  the  contraction  of  the  muscles 
about  the  mouth.  The  profound  and 
death-like  stillness  was  now  broken  by  the 
clerk,  who  said — 


"Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  have  you  agreed 
on  a  verdict  ?  " 

"  We  have,"  was  the  response. 

"  Who  shall  speak  for  you,  gentlemen  ?  " 

"  The  foreman,"  answered  some  of  the 
jury. 

"John  W.  Webster,  hold  up  your  right 
hand,"  said  the  clerk. 

The  prisoner  rose  and  looked  steadily 
and  intensely  upon  the  foreman ;  and  th« 
clerk  then  continued — 

"  Mr.  Foreman,  look  upon  the  prisoner. 
Prisoner,  look  upon  the  jury." 

Professor  Webster  still  maintained  his 
fixed  and  intense  look  of  inquiry  upon  the 
foreman,  trying  to  gather  from  his  coun- 
tenance some  indication  of  the  sentiments 
of  the  jury  upon  which  depended  life  or 
death  to  him. 

"  What  say  you,  Mr.  Foreman,  is  John 
W.  Wt-bster,  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  guilty, 
or  not  guilty  ?  "  demanded  the  clerk. 

"  Guilty  !  "  was  the  solemn  response. 

When  the  foreman  pronounced  the  word 
Guilty,  the  prisoner  started,  like  a  person 
shot;  and  his  hand,  which  had  hitherto 
been  held  erect,  fell  to  the  bar  in  front  of 
him  with  a  dead  sound,  as  if  he  had  sud- 
denly been  deprived  of  muscular  action. 
He  soon  sat  down  ;  his  chin  drooped  upon 
his  breast.  He  put  his  hand  up  to  his 
face,  but  his  nerves  trembled  so  that  he 
appeared  to  be  fumbling  with  his  fingers 
under  his  spectacles,  and,  shutting  his 
eyes,  he  gave  a  deep,  heart-breaking  sigh, 
which  spoke  of  the  inexpressible  anguish 
of  his  soul.  All  eyes  were  fixed  in  sad- 
ness upon  the  doomed  man.  On  the  en- 
suing Monday  he  received  his  sentence  to 
be  hung. 

Subsequently,  proceedings  were  taken, 
but  unsuccessful,  on  the  part  of  Professor 
Webster,  to  set  aside  the  trial,  on  the 
ground  of  some  alleged  technical  informal- 
ities; and  a  petition  to  Governor  Briggs, 
— likewise  unavailing — for  a  commutation 
of  the  sentence,  on  the  ground  that  th« 
killing,  now  confessed  by  Professor  Web- 
ster, was  done  in  the  heat  of  excessive 
provocation.  In  this  confession,  Professor 
Webster  states,  as  follows,  the  manner  in 


382 


MUEDER  OF  DE.  GEOEGE  PARKMAN. 


which  the  murder  was  committed  : — Doc- 
tor Parkman  agreed  to  call  on  me  as  I 
proposed.  He  came,  accordingly,  between 
half-past  one  and  two  o'clock,  entering  at 
the  lecture-room  door.  I  was  engaged  in 
removing  some  lecture-room  glasses  from 
my  table  into  the  room  in  the  rear,  called 
the  upper  laboratory.  He  came  rapidly 
down  the  step,  and  followed  me  into  the 
laboratory.  He  immediately  addressed 
me  with  great  energy — '  Are  you  ready 
for  me,  sir  ?  Have  you  got  the  money  ? ' 
I  replied,  '  No,  Doctor  Parkman ; '  and  I 
was  then  beginning  to  state  my  condition 
and  my  appeal  to  him,  but  he  would  not 
listen  to  me,  and  interrupted  me  with 
much  vehemence.  He  called  me  a  scoun- 
drel and  a  liar,  and  went  on  heaping  on 


obtain  the  object  for  which  I  sought  the 
interview,  but  I  could  not  stop  him,  and 
soon  my  own  temper  was  up ;  I  forgot 
everything,  and  felt  nothing  but  the  sting 
of  his  words.  I  was  excited  to  the  highest 
degree  of  passion,  and  while  he  was  speak- 
ing and  gesticulating  in  the  most  violent 
and  menacing  manner,  thrusting  the  letter 
and  his  fist  into  my  face,  in  my  fury  I 
seized  whatever  thing  was  handiest,  (it 
was  a  stick  of  wood,)  and  dealt  him  an 
instantaneous  blow  with  all  the  force  that 
passion  could  give  it.  I  did  not  know,  or 
think,  or  care,  where  I  should  hit  him,  nor 
how  hard,  nor  what  the  effect  would  be. 
It  was  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  break  the  force  of  the  blow. 
He  fell  instantly  upon  the  pavement 


PROFESSOR  WEBSTER'S  CELL  IN   PRISON. 


me  the  most  hitter  taunts  and  opprobrious 
epithets.  While  he  was  speaking,  he  drew 
out  a  handful  of  papers  from  his  pocket, 
and  took  from  among  them  my  two  notes, 
and  also  an  old  letter  from  Doctor  Hosack, 
written  many  years  ago,  congratulating 
him  on  his  success  in  getting  me  appointed 
Professor  of  Chemistry.  'You  see,'  he 
said,  '  I  was  the  means  of  getting  you  into 
your  office,  and  now  I  will  get  you  out  of 
it.'  He  put  back  into  his  pocket  all  the 
papers  except  the  letters  and  the  notes. 
I  cannot  tell  how  long  the  torrent  of 
threats  and  invectives  continued,  and  I 
can  recall  to  memory  but  a  small  portion 
of  That  he  said ;  at  first  I  kept  interpos- 
ing, trying  to  pacify  him,  so  that  I  might 


There  was  no  second  blow;  he  did  not 
move.  I  stooped  down  over  him,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  lifeless.  Blood  flowed  from 
his  mouth,  and  I  got  a  sponge  and  wiped 
it  away.  I  got  some  ammonia  and  ap- 
plied it  to  his  nose,  but  without  effect. 
Perhaps  I  spent  ten  minutes  in  attempts 
to  resuscitate  him,  but  I  found  he  was  ab- 
solutely dead.  In  my  horror  and  conster- 
nation I  ran  instinctively  to  the  doors  and 
bolted  them,  the  doors  of  the  lecture-room, 
and  of  the  laboratory  below.  And  then, 
what  was  I  to  do  ?  It  never  occurred  tt> 
me  to  go  out  and  declare  what  had  been 
done,  and  obtain  assistance.  I  saw  noth- 
ing but  the  alternative  of  a  successful 
movement  and  concealment  of  the  body  on 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARK  MAN. 


383 


the  one  hand,  and  of  infamy  and  destruc- 
tion on  the  other.  The  first  thing  I  did, 
as  soon  as  I  could  do  anything,  was  to 
draw  the  hody  into  the  private  room  ad- 
joining, where  I  took  off  the  clothes  and 
began  putting  them  into  the  fire,  which 
was  burning  in  the  upper  laboratory. 
They  were  all  consumed  there  that  after- 
noon. 

The  painful  details  of  the  separation 
and  disposal  of  the  parts  are  then  described 
by  Professor  Webster, — the  body  dismem- 
bered ;  the  head,  viscera,  and  some  of  the 
limbs  thrown  into  the  fire  of  the  furnace, 
'  and  fuel  heaped  on  ; '  and  the  remainder 
of  the  body  put  in  two  cisterns  with  water, 
one  of  which  was  under  the  lid  of  the  lec- 
ture-room table,  and  the  other  in  the  lower 
laboratory,  into  the  latter  of  which  a 
quantity  of  potash  was  at  the  same  time 
thrown. 

In  continuation  of  this  ghastly  narrative, 
Professor  Webster  says  : — When  the  body 
had  been  thus  all  disposed  of,  I  cleared 
away  all  traces  of  what  had  been  done.  I 
think  the  stick  with  which  the  fatal  blow 
had  been  struck,  proved  to  be  a  piece  of 
the  stump  of  a  large  grape-vine — say  two 
inches  in  diameter,  and  two  feet  long.  It 
was  one  of  several  pieces  which  I  had 
carried  in  from  Cambridge  long  before, 
for  the  purpose  of  showing  the  effect  of 
certain  chemical  fluids  in  coloring  wood, 
by  being  absorbed  into  the  pores.  The 
grape-vine,  being  a  very  porous  wood,  was 
well  adapted  for  that  purpose.  Another 
longer  stick  had  been  used  as  intended, 
and  exhibited  to  the  students.  This  one 
had  not  been  used.  I  put  it  into  the  fire. 
I  took  up  the  two  notes  either  from  the 
table  or  the  floor;  I  think  the  table,  close 
by  where  Doctor  Parkman  had  fallen.  I 
seized  an  old  metallic  pen  lying  on  the 
table,  dashed  it  across  the  face,  and 
through  the  signatures,  and  put  them  in 
my  pocket.  I  do  not  know  why  I  did  this 
rather  than  put  them  in  the  fire,  for  I  had 
not  considered  for  a  moment  what  effect 
either  mode  of  disposing  of  them  would 
have  on  the  mortgage,  or  my  indebtedness 
to  Doctor  Parkman  and  the  other  persona 


interested,  and  I  had  not  yet  given  a  sin- 
gle thought  to  the  question  as  to  what 
account  I  should  give  of  the  object  or  re- 
sult of  my  interview  with  Doctor  Park- 
man. I  left  the  college  to  go  home  as  late 
as  six  o'clock.  I  collected  myself  as  well 
as  I  could,  that  I  might  meet  my  family 
and  others  with  composure. 

It  was  on  Sunday  that  Professor  Web- 
ster, according  to  his  own  assertion,  for 
the  first  time  made  up  his  mind  what 
course  to  take,  and  what  account  to  give 
of  the  appointed  meeting  between  him  and 
Doctor  Parkman ;  that  on  the  same  day 
he  looked  into  the  laboratory  but  did  noth- 
ing ;  on  Monday,  after  the  officers'  visit 
of  search  to  the  college,  he  threw  the  parts 
which  had  been  under  the  lecture-table 
into  the  vault,  and  packed  the  thorax  into 
the  tea-chest;  the  perforation  of  the  tho- 
rax was  made  by  the  knife ;  and  at  the 
time  of  removing  the  viscera  on  Wednes- 
day, he  put  on  kindlings,  and  made  a  fire 
in  the  furnace  below,  having  first  poked 
down  the  ashes ;  some  of  the  limbs  were 
consumed  at  this  time.  This,  he  says, 
was  the  last  he  had  to  do  with  the  remains. 
The  fish-hooks,  tied  up  as  grapples,  were 
to  be  used  for  drawing  up  the  parts  in  the 
vault.  On  the  very  night  of  the  murder, 
he  and  his  family  made  a  neighborly  call 
at  Professor  Treadwell's,  passing  the  even- 
ing in  social  conversation  and  playing 
whist !  It  was  that  baneful  feature  in 
American  society  —  extravagance  —  which 
alone  brought  Webster  to  calculate  the  life 
of  his  creditor  and  benefactor,  and  which, 
in  so  many  other  eminent  examples,  like 
those  of  Huntington,  Ketchum,  Edwards, 
Schuyler,  and  Gardiner,  took  the  shape  of 
gigantic  frauds  and  peculation. 

So  plain  were  the  facts  involving  Pro- 
fessor Webster's  terrible  guilt,  however, 
that  no  efforts  to  palliate  his  atrocious 
crime  had  the  least  effect  upon  the  public 
mind  in  lightening  the  crushing  weight 
of  infamy  from  his  name,  nor  did  the  arm 
of  retributive  justice  for  a  moment  swenre 
or  falter.  Upon  a  scaffold,  in  the  same 
quarter  of  his  native  city  where  he  and  hia 
victim  first  breathed  the  breath  of  life,  and 


384 


MURDER  OF  DR.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


in  full  view  of  the  classic  halls  of  Harvard 
College,  John  White  Webster  paid  the 
extreme  penalty  of  the  law,  and  his  form 
now  lies  interred  in  one  of  the  sequestered 
dells  of  Mount  Auburn,  not  far  from  the 
spot  where  rest  the  shattered  remains  of 
the  ill-fated  Parkman.  Professor  Webster 
owed  his  appointment  at  Harvard  Univer- 
sity to  the  influence  of  Doctor  Parkman 
and  the  eminent  and  honored  Dr.  Cas- 
par Wistar,  of  Philadelphia,  president  of 
the  American  Philosophical  Society. 

No  such  deep  and  wide-spread  excite- 
ment had,  for  many  years,  attended  any 
other  of  the  numerous  murders  committed 
for  pecuniary  motives,  excepting,  perhaps, 
the  cold-blooded  killing  of  Samuel  Adams, 
a  highly  respected  printer,  by  John  C. 
Colt,  author  of  the  system  of  book-keeping 
and  penmanship  bearing  his  name,  and 
brother  of  the  well-known  inventor  of  the 
revolver.  This  deed  occurred  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  in  September,  1841.  Colt 
had  for  some  time  owed  Adams  a  bill  for 
printing,  which  he  was  unprepared  to  pay. 
The  final  call  made  by  Adams,  at  Colt's 
room  on  Broadway,  for  a  settlement  of 
the  account,  resulted  in  a  tragedy  rarely 
equaled  in  the  annals  of  crime. 

For  some  days,  the  mysterious  absence 
of  Mr.  Adams  was  the  subject  of  universal 
comment  in  the  newspaper  press.  The 
discovery  of  the  murder  was  made  through 
the  instrumentality  of  Mr.  Wheeler,  who 
occupied  a  room  adjoining  that  of  Colt. 
About  four  o'clock,  p.  M.,  on  the  day  of 
Mr.  Adams's  disappearance,  Mr.  Wheeler 
thought  he  heard  an  unusual  noise  in 
Colt's  room,  and  was  induced  to  go  to  the 
door  and  rap.  Not  receiving  any  answer, 
he  looked  through  the  key-hole,  and  saw 
two  hats  standing  upon  a  table,  and  Colt 
kneeling  upon  the  floor,  as  if  scrubbing  it. 
After  waiting  a  little  while,  Mr.  Wheeler 
peeped  into  the  key-hole  again,  and  saw 
Colt  still  engaged  in  the  same  operation. 
This  excited  his  suspicions,  and  he  caused 
a  person  to  watch  at  the  door  all  night. 
In  the  morning,  Colt  was  seen  to  take  a 
box,  about  four  feet  long  and  two  high, 
down  stairs.  The  box  was  directed  to 


somebody  in  St.  Louis,  via  New  Orleans. 
Mr.  Wheeler  gave  information  of  these 
facts  to  the  mayor,  who  immediately  insti- 
tuted search  for  the  box;  it  was  found, 
after  some  difficulty,  on  board  of  the  ship 
Kalamazoo,  and  in  it  the  body  of  Mr.  Ad- 
ams, wrapped  up  in  sail-cloth  and  sprinkled 
with  salt  and  chloride  of  lime. 

Colt  was  at  once  arrested,  and  an  indict- 
ment for  willful  and  deliberate  murder 
found  against  him.  His  trial  resulted  in 
his  conviction ;  and,  notwithstanding  the 
efforts  of  numerous  and  powerful  friends, 
and  the  lavish  use  of  money,  in  his  behalf, 
the  fatal  day  arrived  when  he  was  to  pay 
the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law  for  his 
great  crime.  The  scaffold  was  erected — 
the  whole  city  surged  with  excitement — 
the  crowd  gathered  around  the  prison  was 
immense. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  Rev.  Dr.  Anthon  vis- 
ited Colt's  cell,  in  company  with  Colt's 
brother,  for  the  purpose  of  marrying  the 
murderer  to  his  mistress,  Caroline  Hen- 
shaw.  The  ceremony  was  performed,  Colt 
manifesting  a  deep  interest  in  their  child. 
He  also  handed  a  package  containing  five 
hundred  dollars  for  its  benefit  to  Doctor 
Anthon,  who  proffered  to  become  sponsor 
for  it,  which  was  eagerly  accepted  by  Colt. 

About  one  o'clock,  Colt's  brother,  Sam- 
uel, again  arrived,  and  entered  the  cell. 
Colt  was  still  engaged  in  conversation  with 
his  wife,  who  was  sitting  on  the  foot  of  the 
bed,  convulsed  with  tears.  At  Colt's  re- 
quest, John  Howard  Payne  and  Lewis  Gay- 
lord  Clarke  then  went  into  the  cell  to  take 
their  leave  of  him.  Colt  appeared  exceed- 
ingly pleased  to  see  them,  shook  them  cor- 
dially by  the  hand,  and  conversed  with  ap- 
parent cheerfulness  with  them  for  five 
minutes,  when  they  bade  him  farewell,  both 
of  them  in  tears.  Colt's  wife,  and  his 
brother  Samuel,  also  soon  left,  both  deeply 
affected.  The  wife  could  scarcely  support 
herself,  so  violent  were  her  feelings  and 
acute  her  sufferings.  She  stood  at  the 
door  of  the  cell  for  a  minute — Colt  kiss- 
ing her  passionately,  straining  her  to  his 
bosom,  and  watching  intensely  her  reced- 
ing form,  as  she  passed  into  the  corridor. 


MUKDER  OF  DE.  GEORGE  PARKMAN. 


385 


Here  she  stood  and  sobbed  convulsively, 
as  though  her  heart  would  break,  until  led 
away  by  friends. 

Colt  now  desired  to  see  the  sheriff,  who 
went  into  his  cell.  Colt  then  told  him 
emphatically  that  he  was  innocent  of  the 
murder  of  Adams,  and  that  he  never  in- 
tended to  kill  him  ;  he  also  said  that  he 
had  hopes  that  something  would  intervene 
to  save  him  from  being  hung,  and  begged 
the  sheriff  not  to  execute  the  sentence  of 
the  law  upon  him.  The  sheriff  told  him 
to  banish  all  hope  of  that  kind,  for  he 
must  die  at  four  o'clock.  He  then  asked 
to  see  Doctor  Anthon,  who  went  into  his 
cell,  and  remained  in  prayer  with  him 
about  ten  minutes.  At  the  close  of  this, 
Colt  again  sent  for  the  sheriff,  and  said  to 
him,  "  If  there  are  any  gentlemen  present 
who  wish  to  see  me,  and  take  their  leave 
of  me,  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  them." 

This  was  announced  by  the  sheriff,  and 
all  present,  with  one  or  two  exceptions, 
passed  up  to  his  cell  door,  shook  him  by 
the  hand,  and  took  their  leave  of  him. 
To  one  gentleman  connected  with  the 
press,  he  said :  "  I've  spoken  harshly  of 
some  of  the  press,  but  I  do  not  blame  you 
at  all ;  it  was  all  my  own  fault.  There 
•were  things  that  ought  to  have  been  ex- 
plained. I  know  you  have  a  good  heart, 
and  I  forgive  you  from  my  soul  freely ; 
may  God  bless  you,  and  may  you  prosper." 

He  then  requested  the  keeper,  Mr. 
Greene,  to  let  him  be  left  alone  until  the 
last  moment.  This  was  about  two  o'clock. 
His  cell  was  closed,  and  he  was  left  alone 
till  twenty  minutes  to  three,  when  some 
friends  of  the  sheriff,  apprehending  that 
an  attempt  at  suicide  might  be  made  by 
Colt,  desired  deputy  sheriff  Hillyer  to  go 
to  Colt's  cell  door,  and  request  to  wish  him 
'  good  bye.'  Colt  was  then  walking  up 
26 


and  down  his  cell,  but  turned  around  on  the 
door  opening,  smiled  on  Hillyer,  shook  him 
by  the  hand  and  kis*ed  him,  as  he  did  sev- 
eral of  those  who  had  just  previously  bid 
him  farewell  in  this  life.  He  said  to  Hill- 
yer, "  God  bless  you,  and  may  you  prosper 
in  this  life,  which  is  soon  to  close  on  me." 
From  this  time,  the  excitement  around 
the  prison  increased  tremendously,  and  the 
feelings  of  those  in  the  prison  were  also 
worked  up  to  a  pitch  of  great  intensity. 
No  one,  however,  entered  his  cell  till  pre- 
cisely five  minutes  to  four  o'clock,  at  which 
time  Sheriffs  Hart  and  "Westervelt,  dressed 
in  uniform,  and  accompanied  by  Doctor 
Anthon,  proceeded  to  the  cell.  On  the 
keeper  opening  the  door,  Doctor  Anthon, 
who  was  first,  threw  up  his  hands  and  eyes 
to  Heaven,  and  uttering  a  faint  ejaculation, 
turned  pale  as  death  and  retired.  "As  I 
thought,"  said  the  keeper.  "  As  I  thought," 
said  others.  And  going  into  the  cell,  there 
lay  Colt  on  his  back,  stretched  out  at  full 
length  on  the  bed,  quite  dead,  but  not 
cold.  A  clasp  knife,  like  a  small  dirk 
knife,  with  a  broken  handle,  was  sticking 
in  his  heart.  He  had  stabbed  himself 
about  the  fifth  rib,  on  the  left  side.  His 
temples  were  yet  warm.  His  vest  was 
open,  the  blood  had  flowed  freely,  and  his 
hands,  which  were  lying  across  the  stom- 
ach, were  very  bloody ;  he  had  evidently 
worked  and  turned  the  knife  round  ^nd 
round  in  his  heart  after  stabbing  himself, 
until  he  made  quite  a  large  gash.  His 
mouth  was  open,  his  eyes  partially  so,  and 
his  body  lay  as  straight  on  the  bed  as  if 
laid  out  for  a  funeral  by  others.  Most 
strange  to  say,  just  at  this  moment,  the 
large  cupola  of  the  prison  was  discovered 
to  be  on  fire,  and  burned  furiously.  The 
scene  and  circumstances  were  tragical  to  a 
degree  altogether  indescribable. 


XL  VIII. 

BRILLIANT   MUSICAL   TOUR   OF   JENNY   LIND,  THE 
"SWEDISH  NIGHTINGALE."— 1850. 


This  Queen  of  Song  Comes  under  the  Auspices  of  Mr.  Barnum. — Twenty  Thousand  Persons  Welcome 
Her  Arrival.— Transcendent  Beauty  and  Power  of  Her  Voice. — A  Whole  Continent  Enraptured  With 
Her  Enchanting  Melodies.— Pleasant  Exhilaration  of  Feeling  Throughout  the  Land  by  the  Presence 
of  the  Fair  Nightingale.— Honors  from  Webster,  Clay,  and  Other  Dignitaries.— Her  Praises  Fill  the 
Wide  World.— The  Vocal  Prodigy  of  the  Age.— In  Opera,  '  The  Daughter  of  the  Regiment."— Bar- 
num's  Happy  Conception.— Proposes  to  Her  this  American  Tour.— His  Generous  Terms  Accepted. — 
She  Reaches  New  York. — Sunny  and  Joyous  Outburst. — A  Real  "Jenny  Lind  "  Era — First  Concert  at 
Castle  Garden — Tempest  of  Acclamation. — Encores,  Showers  of  Bouquets. — Public  Expectation 
Exceeded.— Jenny's  Complete  Triumph.— All  the  Receipts  Given  to  Charity. — Equal  Enthusiasm 
Everywhere.— Beautiful  Incidents.— She  is  a  Guest  at  the  White  House.— Henry  Clay  at  Her  Con- 
cert.—Webster  and  the  Nightingale.— A  Scene  "  Not  Down  on  the  BilU."— Ninety-Five  Concerts 
Yield  J700.000. 


"  So  loft,  so  clear,  yet  in  so  Bweet  a  note. 
It  Beemftd  the  miuic  melted  in  her  spirit." 


EALOUSLY  watching,  with  a  practiced  professional  eye,  every  opportu- 
nity to  cater  to  the  ever-varying  tastes  of  a  pleasure-loving  public,  Mr. 
Barnum,  the  "prince  of  showmen,"  conceived  the  felicitous  idea  of 
inviting  the  renowned  Swedish  songstress,  Jenny  Lind,  whose  praise 
filled  the  wide  world  as  that  of  a  very  divinity,  to  enter  into  an  engage- 
ment with  him  to  visit  the  United  States,  on  a  prolonged  musical  tour, 
under  his  managing  auspices ;  and  this  enterprising  design,  the  accom- 
plished showman  in  due  time  brought  successfully  about, — its  consum- 
mation  forming  one   of   the   most   brilliant,  joyous  and  exhilarating 
episodes,  viewed  from  whatever  aspect,  in  the  experience  of  the  American  nation, — an 
outburst  of  sunny  excitement  and  delight,  all  over  the  land,  at  the  presence  of  that  tran- 
scendent musical  genius,  that  wonderful  vocal  prodigy,  of  modern  times. 

But  before  proceeding  to  the  details  of  this  splendid  and  triumphant  tour,  some 
account  of  the  distinguished  songstress,  in  respect  to  her  fascinating  personal  history 
and  previous  public  career,  will  be  in  place, — derived  and  condensed  from  authentic 
sources, — presenting,  as  it  does,  such  peculiar  points  of  interest. 

The  "Swedish  nightingale" — the  "divine  Jenny," — as  she  came  to  be  called,  as  her 
powers  of  song  were  developed,  was  born  at  Stockholm,  in  1821,  and  her  taste  for  music 
was  indicated  while  yet  in  her  third  year.  At  nine  or  ten,  her  parents,  who  were  in 
reduced  circumstances,  suffered  her  to  go  upon  the  stage,  where  her  success  in  juvenile 
characters  was  astonishing.  But  when  she  had  reached  her  twelfth  year,  after  receiving 


BKILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LLTSTD. 


387 


instruction  from  some  of  the  first  music 
masters,  she  lost  her  voice.  Loving  music 
for  its  own  sake,  the  "  nightingale  was 
bitterly  afflicted  at  this  calamity,  the  more 
especially  as  her  voice  had  become  a  source 
of  comfortable  existence.  At  sixteen, 
however,  it  returned,  to  her  infinite  joy, 
under  the  following  peculiar  circumstances. 

At  a  concert,  in  which  the  fourth  act  of 
Meyerbeer's  Robert  le  Diable  had  been 
announced,  it  was  suddenly  discovered  that 
a  singer  to  take  the  part  of  Alice  was 
wanting.  A  short  solo  being  all  that 
Alice  has  to  sing  in  this  act,  none  of  the 
professionals  were  found  desirous  of  under- 
taking the  character.  So  trifling  a  part, 
her  teacher  thought,  would  not  be  marred, 
even  by  Jenny  Lind,  and  accordingly  she 
was  intrusted  with  the  execution  of  the 
insignificant  solo.  As,  from  the  most  arid 
spot  in  the  desert,  water,  sparkling  and 
fresh,  will  sometimes  gush  forth,  so  broke 
out,  on  this  occasion,  the  rich  fountain  of 
song  which  had  so  long  been  latent  in  the 
humble  and  hitherto  silent  nightingale. 
Her  voice  returne^  with  all  its  pristine 
sweetness,  and  with  more  than  its  early 
power,  and  the  most  overwhelming  ap- 
plause followed  the  unexpected  discovery 
of  this  mine  of  melody. 

All  doubt  as  to  her  lyrical  excellence 
was  now  gone,  and  towards  the  winter  of 

1838,  she  made  her  first  appearance  on  the 
stage    as   a  singer,    in   the    character  of 
Agatha,  in  Der  Frieschutz.     Her  exquisite 
singing,    and   her   acting,    abounding   in 
point  and  originality,  created  a  deep  isen- 
sation;  and  she  won  new  laurels  by  her 
representation  of  Alice,  in  the  spring  of 

1839,  and  fully  established  her  fame   by 
her  subsequent  performance  of  Lucia,  in 
Lucia  di  Lammermoor.     She  afterwards 
visited   Paris,    to    receive    lessons    from 
Garcia,  the  father  and  instructor  of-  the 
ill-fated   Madame    Malibran,  —  a   vocalist 
who,  like  Jenny  Lind,  carried  with  her  the 
hearts   of   her   auditory.      The   reception 
which  that  eminent   composer   gave    her 
was,  at  first,  rather  discouraging.      After 
hearing  her  sing,  he  said — 

"My   dear   young   lady,   you  have   no 


voice ;  you  have  had  a  voice,  and  will  lose 
it ;  you  have  been  singing  too  early  or  too 
much,  and  your  voice  is  worn  to  ruin.  I 
cannot  instruct  you — I  cannot  give  you 
any  hope  at  present.  Sing  not  a  note  for 
three  months,  and  then  see  me  again." 

This  counsel  she  follov  ed,  and  when 
she  re-appeared  before  Garcia,  he  thought 
there  was  some  hope  of  her,  and  gave  her 
the  instructions  which  she  coveted ;  but  it 
is  remarkable  that  Garcia  should  never 
have  had  sufficient  penetration  to  discover 
her  innate  genius.  Soon  after  this,  she 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Meyerbeer, 
whose  discrimination  was  more  searching. 
A  rehearsal  was  given,  with  a  full  orches- 
tra, at  the  grand  opera,  where  the  per- 
formance of  Jenny  Lind  so  gratified  the 
composer,  that  hb  at  once  offered  her  an 
engagement  at  .Berlin. 

At  the  close  of  1842,  she  returned  to 
Stockholm,  where  her  popularity  contin- 
ued to  increase.  Her  fame,  however, 
extending  beyond  the  limits  of  Sweden, 
she  was  induced  to  make  a  professional 
visit  to  Germany,  where  public  opinion 
confirmed  that  high  estimate  of  her  abili- 
ties which  had  been  sanctioned  at  home. 

But  it  was  in  England,  that  her  succes* 
first  touched  the  marvelous  and  sublime ; 
and  there  it  was,  that  the  tribute  appro- 
priated by  Shakespeare  to  one  of  his  beau- 
tiful creations — "  She  sings  like  one  immor- 
tal " — became  fact,  applied  to  the  Swedish 
nightingale.  Her  Majesty's  theater  was 
the  first  arena  of  her  triumphs  in  England, 
Queen  Victoria,  by  her  presence  on  the 
opening  night,  offering  her  a  flattering 
and  graceful  tribute.  On  the  evening  of 
May  fifth,  she  made  her  first  essay  before 
an  English  audience,  in  the  character  of 
Alice.  The  uproar  excited  by  her  appear- 
ance on  this  occasion  was  tremendous. 
The  whole  crowded  mass  displayed  an 
astounding  power  of  lungs,  and  hats  and 
handkerchiefs  waved  from  all  parts.  Peo- 
ple came  prepared  to  admire,  but  they 
admired  beyond  the  extent  of  their  prep- 
aration. The  delicious  quality  of  the  per- 
formance— the  rich,  gushing  notes,  were 
something  entirely  new  and  fresh.  The 


388 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


auditors  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it. 
They  had  heard  singers  over  and  over 
again ;  but  there — that  wondrous  thing  ! 
— a  new  sensation  was  actually  created. 
The  sustained  notes  swelling  with  full 
richness,  and  fading  down  to  the  softest 
piano,  without  losing  one  iota  of  their 
quality,  being  delicious  when  loud,  deli- 
cious when  whispered,  which  dwelt  in  the 
public  ear  and  reposed  in  the  public  heart, 
— these  were  the  wonder-exciting  phenom- 
ena. The  impression  made  as  an  actress' 
was  no  less  profound  ;  and  even  in  Vienna, 
the  most  exacting  critics  applauded  her 
performance  of  The  Daughter  of  the  Reg- 
iment, in  Donnizetti's  renowned  opera, 
as  they  also  did  in  other  cities. 


On  returning  to  Stockholm,  in  1848, 
she  entered  into  an  engagement  with  the 
royal  opera,  to  give  a  series  of  concerts. 
On  the  evening  of  her  first  performance, 
the  newspapers  of  the  city  published  a 
note  signed  by  the  renowned  cantatrice,  in 
which  she  stated  that,  in  order  to  give  her 
native  country  a  souvenir  that  might  last 
beyond  her  existence  as  an  artist,  she  had 
determined  on  devoting  the  whole  profits 
of  her  performance  to  the  establishment  of 
a  school  for  poor  young  persons  of  both 
sexes,  born  with  happy  dispositions,  in 
which  they  should  be  gratuitously  taught 


music  and  the  dramatic  art.  This  gener- 
osity excited  to  the  wildest  pitch,  the 
public  enthusiasm,  and  on  the  time  arriv- 
ing for  the  sale  of  tickets  for  the  next  day, 
the  place  was  densely  crowded.  This 
state  of  things  continued  to  increase,  until 
about  eleven  o'clock,  when  the  multitude 
was  such  that  the  police  interfered,  and 
made  the  people  form  en  queue.  This  was 
accomplished  quietly  enough ;  but  a  little 
after  midnight  a  compact  mass  of  people 
suddenly  made  an  irruption  from  the 
neighboring  streets,  rushed  on  the  said 
queue,  broke  it,  and  besieged  the  theater. 
The  first  crowd  now  returned,  attacked 
their  aggressors,  and  in  a  few  minutes  a 
desperate  fist  and  foot  combat  ensued. 
The  police  proved  una- 
vailing, and  several  de- 
tachments of  infantry 
arrived ;  these  also  wera 
formidably  opposed,  and 
only  with  great  trouble 
did  they  succeed  in  keep- 
ing order.  Tickets  were 
paid  for  as  high  as  one 
hundred  dollars.  And 
thus  it  was,  indeed,  in  all 
the  cities  where  the  great 
melodist  held  forth  in 
her  discourse  of  song, — 
the  favor  shown  her  in- 
creasing and  accumulat- 
ing with  her  progress 
from  place  to  place. 
And,  certainly,  all  this 
success  and  fame  was  r.s 
much  a  matter  of  surprise  to  herself  as  to 
anybody  else  ;  for,  even  in  1845,  remarking 
on  her  intended  performance  in  Copenha- 
gen, at  which  city  she  had  just  arrived,  she 
said,  with  characteristic  modesty — 

"  I  have  never  made  my  appearance  out 
of  Sweden.  Everybody  in  my  own  land  is 
so  affectionate  and  loving  to  me.  If  I 
made  my  appearance  here,  and  should  be 
hissed !  I  dare  not  venture  on  it." 

But  the  persuasions  of  Boumonville,  the 
ballet-master,  eventually  prevailed,  and 
gained  for  the  Copenhageners  the  greatest 
enjoyment  they  ever  had.  At  one  concert 


BKILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUE  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


she  sang  her  Swedish  songs.  They  were 
so  peculiar  and  so  bewitching;  that,  uttered 
by  such  a  purely  feminine  being,  their 
sway  was  absolutely  enrapturing.  Her 
singing  was  a  now  revelation  in  the  realm 
of  art.  The  fresh  young  voice  found  its 
way  into  every  heart.  In  her  truth  and 
nature  reigned;  everything  was  full  of 
meaning  and  intelligence.  She  was  the 
first  artist  to  whom  the  Danish  students 
gave  a  serenade.  Torches  blazed  around 
the  villa,  when  the  serenade  was  given, 
and  she  appeared  and  expressed  her  thanks 
by  singing  one  of  her  native  songs  ;  after 
which,  she  was  observed  to  hasten  back 
into  the  darkest  corner  of  the  room  and 
weep  for  emotion. 

In  the  history  of  the  opera,  her  advent 
marked  a  new  and  striking  epoch.  She 
showed  the  art  in  all  its  sanctity.  Miss 
Bremer,  writing  to  Hans  Andersen,  said: 
"  We  are  both  of  us  agreed  as  to  Jenny 
Lind  as  a  singer.  She  stands  as  high  as 
any  artist  of  our  time  well  can  stand.  But 
as  yet  you  do  not  know  her  in  her  real 
greatness.  Speak  to  her  of  her  art,  and 
you  will  wonder  at  the  expansion  of  her 
mind.  Her  countenance  is  lighted  with 
inspiration.  Converse  with  her  upon  God, 
and  of  the  holiness  of  religion,  tears  will 
spring  from  those  innocent  eyes.  She  is 
a  great  artist,  but  she  is  still  greater  in 
the  pure  humanity  of  her  existence." 
Indeed,  according  to  Andersen  himself, 
who  was  familiar  with  the  in-door  life  of 
the  winsome  Swede,  nothing  could  lessen 
the  impression  made  by  Jenny  Lind's 
greatness  on  the  stage,  save  her  personal 
character  in  her  own  home.  Her  intelli- 
gent and  child-like  disposition  exercised 
there  a  singular  power ;  and  there  she  was 
naPPv>  belonging  no  longer  to  the  world. 
Yet  she  loved  art  with  her  whole  soul. 
She  felt  her  vocation.  Her  noble  and 
pious  disposition  could  not  be  spoiled  by 
homage.  On  one  occasion  only,  says 
Andersen,  did  she  express,  in  his  hearing, 
her  joy  and  self-consciousness  in  her  talent, 
and  this  occurred  as  follows  :  She  heard  of 
a  society,  the  object  of  which  was  to 
encourage  the  rescue  of  unfortunate  chil- 


dren from  the  hands  of  their  parents,  by 
whom  they  were  compelled  to  beg  or  steal, 
and  place  them  in  better  circumstances. 
Benevolent  people  subscribed  annually  for 
their  support,  yet  the  means  for  this 
excellent  purpose  were  but  small.  "  I 
have  an  evening  disengaged,"  said  Jenny 
Lind ;  "  I  will  give  a  performance  for  these 
poor  children,  but  we  must  have  double 
prices."  Such  a  performance  was  given, 
and  returned  large  proceeds.  When  she 
heard  the  amount,  her  countenance  lit  up, 
and  tears  filled  her  eyes.  "  It  is,  however, 
beautiful,"  said  she,  "  that  I  can  sing  so." 

Having  performed  in  almost  all  the 
principal  cities  and  towns  in  Europe,  to 
vast  crowds  who  were  almost  frantic  in 
their  demonstrations  of  delight,  as  well  as 
in  the  presence  of  almost  every  crownad 
head  on  the  continent,  winning  their 
admiring  homage,  and  gaining  a  fame  wide 
as  the  world  and  as  bright  and  pure  as  the 
stars,  Jenny  Lind's  inclination  appeared  to 
be  to  retire,  at  least  for  a  while,  on  the 
conclusion  of  her  engagement  in  England, 
to  the  tranquillity  of  home  life. 

It  was  at  this  point  in  her  wonderful 
career,  that  Mr.  Barnum,  through  his  spe- 
cially commissioned  agent,  proposed  the 
most  liberal  and  honorable  terms  to  Jenny 
Lind,  to  give  a  series  of  concerts  in  the 
United  States.  The  proposals  made  by 
Mr.  Barnum  were  so  generous,  and  char- 
acterized by  such  delicate  and  gentlemanly 
consideration,  in  every  respect,  that,  not- 
withstanding several  parties  were  likewise 
attempting,  at  the  same  time,  to  negotiate 
with  her  for  an  American  tour,  she  unhes- 
itatingly decided  to  treat  with  Mr.  Bar- 
num, who  was,  on  his  own  bidding,  to 
assume  all  the  responsibility,  and  take  the 
entire  management  and  chances  of  the 
result  upon  himself.  The  manner  in 
which  that  sagacious  and  accomplished 
gentleman  carried  on  an  enterprise  of  such 
vast  magnitude, — nearly  one  hundred  con- 
certs, in  all  parts  of  the  land,  from  Boston 
to  Louisiana,  and  involving  more  than 
seven  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  total 
receipts, — was  a  monument  alike  to  his 
genius  and  to  hk  superlative  executive 


390 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


abilities  ; — a  statement,  the  truth  of  which 
will  be  found  abundantly  confirmed  in  the 
history  of  this  enterprise,  as  written  by 
Mr.  Barnum  himself,  and  from  which 
some  of  the  facts  and  incidents  given  below 
are  collated. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  August  twenty- 
first,  1850,  Jenny  Lind  and  her  two  pro- 
fessional companions,  Messrs.  Benedict 
and  Belletti,  sailed  from  Liverpool  in  the 
steamer  Atlantic.  It  was  expected  that 
the  steamer  would  arrive  on  Sunday,  Sep- 
tember first,  but,  determined  to  meet  the 
songstress  on  her  arrival,  whenever  it 
might  be,  Mr.  Barnum  went  to  Staten 
Island  on  Saturday  night,  to  be  in  readi- 
ness to  greet  the  fair  stranger.  A  few 
minutes  before  twelve  o'clock  on  Sunday 
morning,  the  Atlantic  hove  in  sight,  and, 
immediately  afterwards,  Mr.  Barnum  was 
on  board  the  ship,  and  had  taken  Jenny 
Lind  by  the  hand.  After  a  few  moments' 
conversation,  she  asked  him — 

"  When  and  where  have  you  heard  me 
sing  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
before  in  my  life,"  replied  Mr.  Barnum. 

"  How  is  it  possible  that  you  dared  risk 
so  much  money  on  a  person  whom  you 
never  heard  sing  ?  "  she  asked  in  surprise. 
"I  risked  it,"  answered  Mr.  Barnum, 
"on  your  reputation,  which  in  musical 
matters  I  would  much  rather  trust  than 
my  own  judgment." 

Thousands  of  persons  covered  the  ship- 
ping and  piers,  and  other  thousands  con- 
gregated on  the  wharf,  to  see  her,  the 
wildest  enthusiasm  prevailing  as  the  noble 
steamer  approached  the  dock.  So  great 
was  the  rush  on  a  sloop  near  the  steamer's 
berth,  that  one  man,  in  his  zeal  to  obtain 
a  good  view,  accidentally  tumbled  over- 
board amid  the  shouts  of  those  near  him. 
Jenny  witnessed  this  incident,  and  was 
much  alarmed.  He  was,  however,  soon 
rescued.  A  superb  bower  of  green  trees, 
decorated  with  beautiful  flags,  was  ar- 
ranged upon  the  wharf,  together  with  two 
triumphal  arches  ;  upon  one  of  the  latter, 
was  inscribed,  "  Welcome,  Jenny  Lind  !  " 
and  the  other,  surmounted  by  the  Ameri- 


can eagle,  bore  the  inscription,  "  Welcome 
to  America  f"  Jenny  Lind  was  escorted 
to  Mr.  Barnum's  private  carriage  at  once, 
by  Captain  West.  The  rest  of  the  musi- 
cal party  entered  the  carriage,  and,  mount- 
ing the  box  at  the  driver's  side,  Mr. 
Barnum  directed  him  to  the  Irving  House. 
As  a  few  of  the  citizens  had  probably  seen 
Mr.  Barnum  before,  his  presence  on  the 
outside  of  the  carriage  aided  those  who 
filled  the  windows  and  sidewalks  along  the 
whole  route  in  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  Jenny  Lind  had  arrived  ;  and  a  ref- 
erence to  the  journals  of  that  day  will 
show,  that  seldom  before  had  there  been 
such  enthusiasm  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
or  indeed  in  America. 


Within  ten  minutes  after  their  arrival 
at  the  Irving  House,  not  less  than  ten 
thousand  persons  had  congregated  around 
the  entrance  in  Broadway.  At  twelve 
o'clock  that  night,  she  was  serenaded  by 
the  New  York  Musical  Fund  Society, 
numbering  on  that  occasion  two  hundred 
musicians.  They  were  escorted  to  the 
Irving  House  by  about  three  hundred 
firemen  in  their  red  shirts,  bearing  torches. 
At  least  twenty  thousand  persons  were 
present.  The  calls  for  Jenny  Lind  were 
so  vehement,  that  Mr.  Barnum  led  her 
through  a  window  to  the  balcony ;  and 
now,  the  loud  cheers  from  the  throng  lasted 
several  minutes,  before  the  serenade  was 
permitted  again  to  proceed. 

For  weeks  afterwards,  the  excitement 
was  unabated.  Her  rooms  were  thronged 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


391 


by  visitors,  including  the  magnates  of  the 
land,  both  in  church  and  state,  and  the 
carriages  of  the  beau  monde  were  to  be 
seen  in  front  of  her  hotel,  at  all  fashiona- 
ble hours.  Presents  of  all  sorts  were 
showered  upon  her.  Milliners,  mantua- 
makers,  and  shopkeepers,  vied  with  each 
other  in  calling  her  attention  to  their 
wares,  of  which  they  sent  her  many  valua- 
ble specimens,  delighted  if  in  return  they 
could  receive  her  autograph  in  acknowl- 
edgment. Songs,  quadrilles,  and  polkas, 
were  dedicated  to  her,  and  poets  wrote  in 
her  praise.  There  were  Jenny  Lind 
gloves,  Jenny  Lind  bonnets,  Jenny  Lind 
riding  hats,  Jenny  Lind  shawls,  mantillas, 
robes,  chairs,  sofas,  pianos — in  fact,  every- 
thing was  "  Jenny  Lind."  Her  move- 
ments were  constantly  watched,  and  the 
moment  her  carriage  appeared  at  the  door, 
it  was  surrounded  by  multitudes,  eager  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  fair  "  nightingale." 

Jenny  Lind's  first  concert  was  fixed  to 
come  off  at  Castle  Garden,  Wednesday 
evening,  September  eleventh,  and  most  of 
the  tickets  were  sold  at  auction  on  the 
previous  Saturday  and  Monday.  Genin, 
the  hatter,  purchased  the  first  ticket  at 
two  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars.  The 
arrangements  of  the  concert  room  were 
very  complete.  The  great  parterre  and 
gallery  of  Castle  Garden  were  divided  by 
imaginary  lines  into  four  compartments, 
each  of  which  was  designated  by  a  lamp  of 
a  peculiar  color.  The  tickets  were  printed 
in  colors  corresponding  with  the  location 
which  the  holders  were  to  occupy,  and 
there  were  one  hundred  ushers,  with 
rosettes,  and  bearing  wands  tipped  with 
ribbons  of  the  same  hue  ;  and,  though  five 
thousand  persons  were  present,  their  en- 
trance was  marked  by  the  most  perfect 
order  and  quiet. 

The  reception  of  Jenny  Lind  on  this 
her  first  appearance,  in  point  of  enthusi- 
asm, was  probably  never  before  equaled  in 
the  world.  As  Mr.  Benedict  led  her 
towards  the  foot-lights,  the  entire  audience 
rose  to  their  feet  and  welcomed  her  with 
three  cheers,  accompanied  by  the  waving 
of  thousands  of  hats  and  handkerchiefs, 


and  the  casting  of  bouquets  before  her. 
This  was  by  far  the  largest  audience  that 
Jenny  had  ever  sung  in  the  presence 
of.  She  was  evidently  much  agitated,  but 
the  orchestra  commenced,  and  before  she 
had  sung  a  dozen  notes  of  "  Casta  Diva," 
she  began  to  recover  her  self-possession, 
and  long  before  the  scene  was  concluded, 
she  was  calm  as  if  sitting  in  her  own 
drawing-room.  Towards  the  last  portion 
of  the  cavatina,  the  audience  were  so  com- 
pletely carried  away  by  their  feelings, 
that  the  remainder  of  the  air  was  drowned 
in  a  perfect  tempest  of  acclamation.  En- 
thusiasm had  been  wrought  to  its  highest 
pitch,  but  the  musical  powers  of  Jenny 
Lind  exceeded  all  the  brilliant  anticipa- 
tions which  had  been  formed,  and  her  tri- 
umph was  complete.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  concert,  Jenny  Lind  was  loudly 
called  for,  and  was  obliged  to  appear  three 
times  before  the  audience  could  be  satis- 
fied. They  then  called  vociferously  for 
"  Barnum,"  who  reluctantly  responded  to 
their  demands ;  and,  on  his  concluding  by 
saying  that  the  whole  proceeds  of  the  con- 
cert were  to  yo  to  charitable  objects,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  audience  would  go 
frantic  with  applause. 

From  New  York,  Jenny  Lind  went  to 
Boston,  Providence,  Philadelphia,  Balti- 
more, Washington, — to  all  the  chief  cities 
in  the  Union,  east,  west,  north,  and  south ; 
vast  audiences  everywhere  awaiting  her, 
— municipal,  musical,  and  other  deputa- 
tions, tendering  their  honors, — and,  during 
every  performance,  there  was  a  constant 
succession  of  hurrahs,  encores,  and  other 
demonstrations  of  intense  delight.  In 
Boston,  the  highest  price  paid  for  a  ticket 
was  six  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars, 
by  Ossian  E.  Dodge ;  in  Providence,  six 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  by  Col.  William 
C.  Ross ;  in  Philadelphia,  six  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars,  by  M.  A.  Root;  in 
New  Orleans,  two  hundred  and  forty  dol- 
lars, by  Mr.  D'Arcy ;  in  St.  Louis,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  by  the  keeper 
of  a  refreshment  saloon;  in  Baltimore, 
one  hundred  dollars,  by  a  daguerreotypist. 

It  was  in  one  of  the  beautiful  environs 


392 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


JENNY  LIND'S  APPEARANCE  AT  CASTLE  GARDEN, 


of  Boston,    that  Jenny 
took  her  first  out-door 
walk    in    America.      Her    lore    for    the 
charms  of  nature  was  always  intense,  as 
the  following  incident  which  occurred  on 
another   occasion,  as    related  by  a  stage- 
driver,    will    show.     A   bird   of    brilliant 
plumage  perched  itself  on  a  tree  near,  as 
they  drove  slowly  along,    and  trilled  out 
such  a  complication  of  sweet  notes  as  per- 
fectly astonished  her.     The  coach  stopped, 
and,  reaching  out,  Jenny  gave  one  of  her 
finest   roulades.     The    beautiful    creature 
arched  his  head  on  one  side,  and  listened 
deferentially;   then,    as   if   determined  to 
excel  his  famous  rival,  raised   his  graceful 
throat  and  sang  a  song  of  rippling  melody 
that   made   Jenny   rapturously    clap    her 
hands  in  ecstasy,  and  quickly,  as  though  she 
were  before  a  severely  critical  audience,  she 
delivered  some  Tyrolean  mountain  strains, 
that   set   the   echoes    flying;    whereupon 
little   birdie    took   it    up,    and    sang   and 
trilled   and   sang,    till   Jenny,    in   happy 
delight,    acknowledged    that    the    pretty 
woodland  warbler  decidedly  outcaroled  the 
"Swedish  nightingale." 

Jenny  Lind's  generosity  was  unbounded. 


To  say  nothing  of  her 
numerous    heavy    bene- 
factions  to   societies    and    individuals, — 
amounting   to   some    fifty   thousand   dol- 
lars, during  her  brief  stay  in  America,— 
here  is  an  illustration  of  her  sweet  tender- 
ness.    One  night,  while  giving  concerts  in 
Boston,  a  girl  approached  the  ticket-office, 
and  laying  down  three  dollars  for  a  ticket, 
remarked,    "There    goes   half  a   month's 
earnings,    but   I   am  determined  to  hear 
Jenny  Lind  sing.''     Her  secretary  heard 
the  remark,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards,  coming    into    Jenny's    room,    he 
laughingly  related  to  her  the  circumstance. 
"  Would  you  know  the  girl  again  ?  "  asked 
Jenny,  with  an  earnest   look.     Upon  re- 
ceiving an  affirmative  reply,  she  placed  a 
twenty-dollar  gold  coin  in  his  hand,  and 
said,  "Poor  girl  !  give  her  that,  with  my 
best  compliments." 

While  in  the  same  city,  a  poor  Swedish 
girl,  a  domestic  in  a  family  at  Eoxbury, 
called  on  Jenny.  Jenny  detained  her  vis- 
itor several  hours,  talking  about  "  home  " 
and  other  matters,  and  in  the  evening 
took  her  in  her  carriage  to  the  concert, 
gave  her  a  seat,  and  sent  her  back  to  Rox. 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


393 


bury  in  a  carriage  at  the  close  of  the  per- 
formance. Doubtless  the  poor  girl  carried 
with  her  substantial  evidences  of  her 
countrywoman's  bounty. 

On  the  morning  after  her  arrival  at 
Washington,  President  Fillmore  called, 
and  left  his  card,  Jenny  being  out.  She 
returned  his  call  the  next  day,  and 
subsequently,  by  presidential  request, 
passed  an  evening  at  the  White  House, 
in  the  private  circle  of  the  president's 
family. 

Both  concerts  in  Washington  were 
attended  by  the  president  and  his  family, 
and  every  member  of  the  cabinet.  It  hap- 
pened that,  on  the  day  of  one  of  these 
concerts,  several  members  of  the  cabinet 
and  senate  were  dining  with  Mr.  Bodisco, 
the  Russian  minister,  whose  good  dinner 
and  choice  wines  had  kept  the  party  so 
late  that  the  concert  had  progressed  quite 
far  when  Webster,  Crittenden,  and  others, 
came  in.  Whether  from  the  hurry  in 
which  they  came,  or  from  the  heat  of  the 
room,  their  faces  were  a  little  flushed,  and 
they  all  looked  somewhat  flurried.  After 
the  applause  with  which  these  dignitaries 
were  received  had  subsided,  and  silence 
was  once  more  restored,  the  second  part  of 
the  concert  was  opened  by  Jenny  Lind, 
with  "Hail  Columbia."  At  the  close  of 
the  first  verse,  Webster's  patriotism  boiled 
over.  He  could  stand  it  no  longer,  and; 
rising  like  Olympian  Jove,  he  added  his 
deep,  sonorous,  bass  voice  to  the  chorus. 
Mrs.  Webster,  who  sat  immediately  be- 
hind him,  kept  tugging  at  his  coat-tail  to 
make  him  sit  down  or  stop  singing;  but  it 
was  of  no  earthly  use.  At  the  close  of 
each  verse,  Webster  joined  in ;  and  it  was 
hard  to  say  whether  Jenny  Lind,  Webster, 
or  the  audience  was  the  most  delighted. 
At  the  close  of  the  air,  Mr.  Webster  arose, 
hat  in  hand,  and  made  her  such  a  bow  as 
Chesterfield  would  have  deemed  a  fortune 
for  his  son,  and  which  eclipsed  D'Orsay's 
best.  Jenny  Lind,  sweetly  blushing  at 
the  distinguished  honor,  courtesied  to  the 
floor;  the  audience  applauded  to  the  very 
echo.  Webster,  determined  not  to  be  out- 
done in  politeness,  bowed  again ;  Jenny 


Lind  re-curtesied,  the  house  re-applauded ; 
and  this  was  repeated  several  times. 

And  so,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Clay. 
Scarcely  had  the  overture  been  half  played 
through,  than  a  murmur  was  heard  from 
the  end  of  the  building.  It  was  hushed 
instantly,  and  the  overture  was  played  to 
its  close.  And  now  burst  out  a  long  and 
loud  shout  of  applause.  For  a  moment, 
Benedict,  the  conductor,  looked  around, 
somewhat  astonished.  He,  however,  saw 
immediately  that  this  applause  had  not 
been  called  forth  by  the  orchestra.  The 
tall,  slim,  thin  figure  of  an  aged  man — 
with  a  grayish  blue  eye,  vivid  and  spark- 
ling, and  a  capacious,  broad  mouth — was 
slowly  advancing  up  the  room.  It  was 
Henry  Clay.  As  he  moved  on,  the  shouta 
and  applause  redoubled.  He,  bowing  on 
every  side,  continued  his  path  feebly,  and 
somewhat  cautiously.  At  length  he 
reached  his  seat,  and  the  applause  ceased 
for  a  moment.  Then  a  voice  at  the  upper 
end  of  the  hall  cried  out,  "  Three  cheers 
for  Harry  Clay  ! "  The  building  almost 
rocked  with  the  vehemence  of  the  re- 
sponse. 

While  in  Washington,  Jenny  Lind  was 
called  on  by  hosts  of  the  eminent  men  of 
the  land,  including  Mr.  Webster,  Mr. 
Clay,  General  Cass,  and  Colonel  Benton. 
And,  indeed,  wherever  she  went,  from  one 
end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  the  same 
scene  presented  itself,  of  distinguished 
honors  to  this  Divinity  of  Song, — admiring 
and  enthusiastic  communities  turning  out 
to  welcome, — and  crowded  audiences  rap- 
turous under  the  overpowering  enchant- 
ment of  her  voice.  Jenny  Lind's  net 
avails  of  the  ninety-five  concerts  given  by 
her  under  Mr.  Barnum's  auspices,  in  the 
short  space  of  eight  months,  were  little 
short  of  $177,000,  or  nearly  double  the 
amount,  per  concert,  named  in  their  origi- 
nal contract.  Subsequently,  she  gave  a 
few  concerts  on  her  own  account.  In 
February,  1852,  she  was  married,  in 
Boston,  to  Mr.  Otto  Goldschmidt,  a  young 
German  composer  and  pianist,  who  had 
studied  music  with  her  in  that  country, 
and  who  played  several  times  in  her  Amer- 


394 


BRILLIANT  MUSICAL  TOUR  OF  JENNY  LIND. 


ican  concerts.  Shortly  after  her  marriage, 
they  left  for  Europe.  Her  professional 
tour  in  America  was  far  more  brilliant  and 
successful  than  that  of  any  other  performer, 
male  or  female,  musical,  theatrical,  or 
operatic,  who  ever  appeared  before  an 
American  audience.  The  names  of  Kem- 
ble,  Malibran,  Celeste,  Ellsler,  Tree,  Kean, 
Garcia,  Ole  Bull,  Paganini,  Rossini,  Julien, 
Ristori,  Rachel,  Parepa,  Alboni,  Dean, 
Phillips,  Kellogg,  Sontag,  Wood,  Gotts- 
chalk,  etc.,  etc.,  all  pale  before  that  of  the 
fair  Swede. 

Describing  Jenny  Lind's  voice  scientific- 
ally, it  should  be  spoken  of  as  a  soprano, 
embracing  a  register  of  two  and  a  half 
octaves.  Clear  and  powerful,  susceptible 
of  the  greatest  variety  of  intonation,  it 
met  all  the  demands  of  the  composer  with 
the  greatest  facility  to  its  possessor.  No 
difficulties  appalled  her ;  a  perfect  musi- 


cian, she  suffered  herself  to  revel  in  all  the 
roulades  of  which  the  time  and  occasion 
admitted.  Her  upper  notes  filled  the 
vastest  area  with  an  effect  to  which  noth- 
ing but  the  striking  of  a  fine-toned  bell 
could  be  compared,  while  her  most  gentle 
and  subdued  passages  were  audible  at  the 
greatest  distances.  In  a  word,  there  was 
a  rare  combination  of  qualities  which 
raised  her  above  all  other  singers  ever 
heard.  Her  voice — sweet,  powerful,  mel- 
low, resonant,  faultless  in  tone,  and  full  of 
sympathetic  emotion;  her  execution — 
ready  and  facile ;  her  manner — earnest  not 
only  in  the  expression  of  every  word,  but  in 
her  looks,  her  air,  her  abstraction  from  ev- 
ery surrounding  object ; — to  have  seen  and 
heard  this,  even  once,  was,  in  the  language 
of  one  who  had  been  thus  favored,  "  a  treat 
to  last  until  we  go  to  heaven,  where,  and 
where  alone,  such  musia  nasn  be  heard." 


XLIX. 


REIGN    OF    THE   VIGILANCE    COMMITTEE   IN    CALI- 
FORNIA.—1851. 


Revolution  in  the  Administration  of  Justice. — Powerlessness  and  Indifference  of  the  Regular  Authori- 
ties.— Robbery,  Arson,  and  Murder,  Alarmingly  Prevalent. — The  Committee's  Secret  Chamber  of 
Judgment — Sudden  Seizure  and  Trial  of  Noted  Criminals. — Solemn  Tolling  of  the  Signal  Bell. — 
Swift  and  Terrible  Executions. — Renovation  of  Society. — Swarming  of  Desperate  Felons. — England's 
Penal  Colonies  Emptied. — Organized  Society  of  "  Hounds." — A  Band  of  Cut-throats. — Society  at 
Tlieir  Mercy. — Harvests  Reaped  by  Them. — Corrupt  Courts  and  Officers. — The  Vigilance  Commit- 
tee Formed. — Prompt,  Resolute,  Powerful. — The  Crimiuals  Taken  Unawares. — Instant  Summons  to 
Death. — A  Gallows  at  Midnight. — Extraordinary  Horrors. — Confessions  by  the  Victims. — Astound- 
ing Revelations. — Magistrates  Implicated. — Warnings  by  the  Committee. — A  Double  Execution. — 
Thousands  of  Spectators. — Wild  Shouts  of  Approval. — The  Lawless  Classes  Terrified. — The  Results 
of  the  Movement. 


••  We  are  determined  that  no  thief,  burglar,  incendiury,  assassin,  ballot-box  stuffer,  or  other  disturber  of  the  peace,  sholl  escape  punish- 
ment, either  by  the  qaibbles  of  the  law,  the  insecurity  of  prisons,  the  carelessness  or  corruption  of  the  police,  or  a  laxitj  of  those  who  pretend 
to  administer  justice."—  ADDBESS  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


PflGILANCE  committees,  and  "lynch  law,"  are  terms  of  similar  and  famil- 
iar meaning,  in   the  American  vocabulary.      But   nowhere  else 
within  the  borders  of  the  great  republic  has  the  operation  of  this 
P3J     summary  method  of  dealing  with  offenders  who  would  otherwise 
go  "  unwhipped  of  justice,"  been  so  resolute,  so  frequent,  and  so 
effective,  as  in  California.     Nor,  perhaps,  has  it  ever  been  more 
excusable,  as  an  extreme  public  necessity.    Such  was  the 
unsettled  condition  of  society  in  that  remote  territory, 
during  the  earlier  years  of  its  mining  history,  so  multi- 
plied and  daring  the  crimes  against  life  and  property, 
and  so  inefficient  as  well  as  glaringly  corrupt,  the  courts 
and  judges,  that,  for  a  time,  robbery,  murder,  arson,  and 
violence  were  completely  in  the  ascendant,  so  that  every 
man  not  actually  in  league  with  the  perpetrators 
of  these  outrages,  was  put  on  the  defensive, — car- 
rying his  weapons  by  day,  and  sleeping  on  them 
at  night.     Bold  and  defiant  in  their  successful 
career  of    crime,    numbers   of    these  outlaws 
formed   themselves    into   a   mutual   organiza- 
tion, with  regular  head-quarters,  and  assumed 
the  name  of  "hounds."      They  swarmed  the 
city  and  the  country,  and,  in  their  skilled  arts 
of  villainy,  as  thieves,  pickpockets,  gamblers, 
incendiaries,  and    assassins,    numbered    their 
victims  by  hundreds.      In   addition    to   this, 


DOUBLE   EXECI'TIO.N  IX   SAS   FRANCISCO. 


396 


REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


large  numbers  of  felons  found  their  way 
to  California,  from  the  convict  islands  of 
Van  Dieman's  Land  and  New  South 
Wales,  and  there,  under  the  existing  lax- 
ity of  law  and  audacity  of  crime,  reaped  a 
rich  harvest. 

Such,  then,  was  the  condition  of  affairs 
throughout  the  state,  when,  goaded  and 
outraged  beyond  endurance,  the  well-dis- 
posed citizens  determined  to  become  a  law 
unto  themselves,  and  to  administer  that 
law  in  the  interests  of  justice  and  self-pro- 
tection, with  promptness  and  decision.  Ex- 
amples were  not  long  wanting  for  the  exe- 
cution of  their  purpose  ;  and,  in  pursuance 
of  the  same  end,  the  citizens  of  San  Fran- 
cisco soon  found  their  wrongs  being  re- 
dressed by  a  powerful  voluntary  organiza- 
tion of  the  most  influential  men  in  the  city, 
styled  the  Vigilance  Committee,  who,  in 
the  constitution  of  their  association,  de- 
clared that  they  thus  united  themselves 
together,  "to  preserve  the  lives  and  prop- 
erty of  the  citizens  of  San  Francisco, — 
binding  themselves,  each  unto  the  other, 
to  do  and  perform  every  lawful  act  for  the 
maintenance  of  law  and  order,  and  to  sus- 
tain the  laws  when  faithfully  and  properly 
administered,  —  but  determined  that  no 
thief,  burglar,  incendiary,  or  assassin,  es- 
cape punishment,  either  by  the  quibbles  of 
the  law,  the  insecurity  of  prisons,  the  care- 
lessness or  corruption  of  the  police,  or  a 
laxity  on  the  part  of  those  pretending  to 
administer  justice." 

The  first,  and  one  of  the  most  exciting 
of  the  cases  growing  out  of  this  extraor- 
dinary organization,  occurred  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, in  June,  1851,  when  a  Sidney  con- 
vict was  caught  in  the  act  of  carrying 
away  a  small  safe  which  he  had  stolen. 
The  man,  a  desperate  character,  was  seized 
by  some  members  of  the  vigilance  commit- 
tee, who  conducted  him  forthwith  to  their 
head-quarters,  where  he  was  tried  in  the 
presence  of  about  eighty  members  of  the 
association  sitting  with  closed  doors,  by 
them  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  be  hung 
in  Portsmouth  Square,  that  night.  Dur- 
ing the  progress  of  the  trial,  the  citizens 
had  assembled  in  large  numbers  about  the 


building  and  in  Portsmouth  Square,  the 
bell  on  the  engine-house  at  the  latter  local- 
ity having  rung  the  pre-arranged  signal, 
to  give  notice  of  the  proceedings  going  on. 

Though  very  much  excited,  the  populace 
were  not  disorderly.  Some  disapprobation 
was  manifested  at  the  secrecy  of  the  com- 
mittee's doings ;  but  when  the  result  was 
known,  there  was  a  very  general  acquies- 
cence, although  there  were  many  who 
deemed  the  punishment  too  severe  for  the 
'offense,  and  others  thought  he  should  be 
executed  in  broad  daylight.  As  soon  as 
the  sentence  was  passed,  the  bell  on  the 
California  Engine  House,  near  by,  com- 
menced to  toll  the  funeral  knell  of  the 
wretched  man.  This  was  at  one  o'clock, 
midnight.  Captain  Ray,  of  the  police 
force,  applied  at  the  door  of  the  commit- 
tee's room,  and  demanded  the  prisoner, 
but  was  refused  several  times,  and  al- 
though others  of  the  police  force  were  on 
the  ground,  they  saw  it  was  of  no  use  to 
attempt  a  rescue. 

Some  person  climbed  the  liberty  pole  to 
rig  a  block  for  the  execution,  but  a  loud 
shout  of  "Don't  hang  him  on  the  liberty 
pole"  arose  from  all  quarters.  Voices 
screamed  out,  "  To  the  old  adobe,"  and  a 
rush  was  made  for  that  edifice,  upon  the 
corner  of  the  square,  formerly  occupied  as 
the  custom-house.  At  the  end  of  the  build- 
ing, a  block  was  rigged,  and  a  long  rope 
run  through  it.  In  the  meantime,  a  num- 
ber of  the  police  who  were  on  the  ground, 
made  several  attempts  to  obtain  possession 
of  the  prisoner,  whose  arms  were  tightly 
pinioned  and  who  was  closely  surrounded 
by  an  armed  and  resolute  body  of  the  com- 
mittee, but  they  were  sternly  prevented; 
had  they  persisted,  they  would  have  been 
riddled  with  balls.  Several  citizens  de- 
nounced the  execution,  and  sought  to  aid 
the  police. 

The  prisoner  by  this  time  was  nearly 
dead  with  fear  and  rough  handling,  when 
a  rush  was  made  toward  him,  a  noose 
thrown  over  his  head,  the  rope  manned  by 
twenty  ready  hands,  who  ran  backwards, 
dragging  the  wretched  man  along  the 
ground,  until,  raising  him  swiftly  to  the 


REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


397 


beam,  the  heavy  form  of  the  convicted 
felon  dangled  from  the  block.  A  few  fear- 
ful struggles,  a  quiver  of  the  hempen  cord, 
a  few  nervous  twitches,  and  the  crowd 
gazed  upon  the  lifeless  corpse  of  him  upon 
whom  such  speedy  and  terrible  vengeance 
had  been  executed  by  an  outraged  people. 
At  six  o'clock,  the  city  marshal  cut  down 
the  body  and  consigned  it  to  the  dead- 
house. 

Thus  ended  the  first  execution  which 
ever  took  place  in  San  Francisco,  where 
more  crime  had  been  committed  during 
the  year  past  than  in  any  other  city  of  the 
same  population  in  the  Union,  without 
one  single  instance  of  adequate  punish- 
ment. Of  the  guilt  of  Jenkins  there  was 
no  doubt.  He  had  long  been  known  to 
the  police  as  a  desperate  character  from 
the  English  penal  colonies,  where  he  had 
passed  many  years  as  a  transported  con- 


&\  VIGILANCE   /* 


SEAL  OP  THE  CALIFOKNIA  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 

vict.  A  profound  impression  was  produced 
throughout  California,  as  also  in  every 
other  section  of  the  country,  by  these  ex- 
traordinary but  imperative  proceedings. 

Only  a  month  elapsed  from  this  time, 
when  another  and  similar  scene  of  horror 
was  enacted.  This  was  the  case  of  James 
Stuart,  one  of  a  regular  gang  of  thieves 
and  murderers,  and  who,  from  his  own 
confession,  had  committed  almost  every 
known  crime'  and  outrage.  He  was  delib- 
erately tried  on  various  charges  by  the 
vigilance  committee,  found  guilty,  and 
sentenced  to  be  hung,  all  of  which  he  ac- 
knowledged to  be  just.  At  nine  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  July  eleventh,  the  bell  of  the 


Monumental  Engine  Company's  house  on 
the  plaza,  attracted  everybody's  attention 
— known,  as  it  was,  to  be  a  signal  of  the 
vigilance  committee, — and  people  soon  be- 
gan to  throng  down  in  the  direction  of  the 
committee's  quarters.  The  bell  tolled  for 
about  half  an  hour,  guns  were  fired  from 
a  brig  in  the  harbor,  and  many  of  the  ves- 
sels in  the  harbor  had  their  flags  displayed. 
About  half-past  one  o'clock,  some  one  came 
out  of  the  "chamber  of  judgment,"  and 
read  a  portion  of  Stuart's  confession,  and  it 
was  stated  that  he  would  be  hung  in  an 
hoiy, — a  proposition  which  the  crowd  sanc- 
tioned almost  unanimously.  The  news 
spread,  and  the  crowd  increased  im- 
mensely. The  committee  now  came  down 
stairs,  and  formed  three  abreast ;  there 
were  hundreds  of  them,  principally  com- 
posed of  the  oldest,  best  known,  and  most 
prominent  citizens.  Previous  to  this,  a 
clergyman  had  been  sent  for,  who  remained 
with  Stuart  two  hours. 

A  gallows  of  plain  uprights  and  a  cross- 
beam had  been  erected,  a  block  with  a  rope 
in  it,  and  the  noose  ready  made.  On  the 
way  down,  Stuart  appeared  perfectly  cool 
and  collected.  On  reaching  the  gallows, 
the  rope  was  placed  around  his  neck,  and, 
with  the  exception  of  a  slight  paleness, 
there  was  no  change  in  his  appearance,  no 
trembling,  no  agitation.  He  appeared  to 
feel  as  though  he  was  satisfied  with  his 
sentence  and  did  not  desire  to  live  longer. 

The  immense  crowd  remained  breathless, 
and  Stuart,  when  under  the  gallows,  said, 
"  /  die  reconciled ;  my  sentence  is  just." 
The  rope  was  pulled,  and  in  a  moment  he 
was  swinging  in  the  air.  As  he  went  up, 
he  closed  his  eyes  and  clasped  his  hands 
together.  He  had  previously  requested 
that  his  face  might  not  be  covered.  He 
scarcely  gave  a  struggle  ;  and  although  the 
knot  was  on  the  back  of  his  neck,  appeared 
to  suffer  but  little  pain.  A  slight  contrac- 
tion of  the  lower  limbs,  and  a  strained 
heaving  of  the  chest  for  a  moment,  were 
all  the  symptoms  of  approaching  death. 
After  hanging  about  five  minutes,  his  hat 
blew  off,  and  exposed  to  view  the  ghastly 
features  of  the  murderer  and  robber. 


3(J8 


BEIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


When  he  had  hung  about  twenty  minutes, 
he  was  cut  down  by  the  corouer.  There 
was  no  attempt  at  a  rescue,  and  everything 
was  conducted  with  perfect  order,  but  the 
greatest  determination.  Stuart's  confes- 
sion was  one  unvarying  record  of  daring 
crimes,  showing,  in  a  startling  manner, 
the  dangers  of  California  life  and  prop- 
erty. A  large  number  of  persons,  some  of 
them  holding  office,  and  of  reputable  stand- 
ing, were  implicated  in  Stuart's  confession, 
—  it  appearing  that  the  association  of 
thieves,  burglars,  and  assassins,  to  which 
Stuart  belonged,  extended  throughout  the 
entire  state — that  judges  and  public  prose- 
cutors were  in  some  places  in  league  with 
the  association — that  subornation  of  per- 
jury was  one  of  the  commonest  expedients 
to  achieve  the  impunity  of  the  criminal, 
and  to  baffle  the  working  of  the  law — 
that  the  burning  of  San  Francisco  was 
several  times  resolved  upon  in  revenge — 
and  that  life  wa.°  not  regarded  at  a  straw's 
yalue  when  money  was  to  be  obtained  by 
murder. 

Determined  to  be  thorough  in  their  work 
of  purification,  the  committee  served  no- 
tices upon  every  vicious  or  suspected  per- 
son, whose  name  could  be  obtained,  with  a 
warning  to  depart  forthwith.  This,  with 
the  swift  and  terrible  executions  already 
witnessed,  caused  multitudes  to  flee  for 
their  lives.  Crime  rapidly  diminished, 
and  now,  for  the  first  time,  almost,  for 
years,  citizens  felt  secure  in  their  persons 
and  possessions. 

But  the  vigilance  of  the  co/nmittee  did 
not  for  a  -moment  relax,  and,  in  a  few 
weeks  after  the  disposal  of  Stuart,  they 
had  in  their  hands  two  notorious  robbers 
and  incendiaries,  named  Whittaker  and 
McKenzie.  They  were  tried,  found  guilty, 
and  condemned  to  the  gallows.  They 
themselves  confessed  their  guilt,  and  a  day 
was  fixed  for  their  execution.  In  the 
meantime,  Governor  McDougall  issued  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus,  which  was  handed 
to  Sheriff  Hayes,  commanding  him  to  take 
the  bodies  of  Whittake/  and  McKenzie, 
and  bring  them  into  court,  to  be  dealt  with 
according  to  law. 


Colonel  Hayes  and  some  of  his  deputies 
immediately  repaired  to  the  rooms  of  the 
committee,  having  declined  a  posse  of  police 
offered  to  accompany  them.  The  police, 
however,  followed,  with  some  stragglers 
who  wished  to  see  the  result.  The  sheriff 
and  Mr.  Caperton  walked  up  stairs  and 
entered  the  room,  unresisted.  Mr.  Caper- 
ton  advanced  to  the  room  in  which  the 
prisoners  were  confined,  announced  him- 
self to  be  the  deputy  sheriff,  and  called  on 
'the  two  men,  Whittaker  and  McKenzie, 
to  accompany  him,  Colonel  Hayes  mean- 
time guarding  the  door.  When  the  party 
was  about  to  leave,  one  of  the  committee 
laid  his  hand  upon  the  sheriff's  shoulder 
and  attempted  to  push  him  from  the  door, 
but  Colonel  Hayes  told  him  he  was  there 
to  do  his  duty  and  was  obliged  to  do  it; 
to  prevent  bloodshed,  they  were  allowed  to 
proceed.  Two  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
mittee, suspecting  treachery,  had  at  the 
same  time  let  themselves  down  from  the 
windows,  and  at  once  gave  the  alarm  by 
ringing  the  bell. 

This  was  a  little  before  the  break  of  day, 
and  immediately  the  members  came  pour- 
ing in  from  all  directions.  Amid  intense 
excitement,  the  meeting  organized,  and 
the  circumstances  were  detailed.  The 
person  who  had  charge  of  the  room  was 
bitterly  denounced.  Various  propositions 
were  made,  but  no  action  taken.  The  se- 
quel was  yet  to  come. 

It  was  about  half-past  two  o'clock  on 
Sunday  afternoon,  August  24th,  that  the 
bell  of  the  Monumental  Engine  Company 
commenced  tolling  in  a  very  rapid  manner, 
and  the  news  soon  spread  like  wildfire,  that 
the  prisoners,  Whittaker  and  McKenzie, 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  county  jail  by 
some  members  of  the  vigilance  committee ! 

The  manner  of  the  rescue  was  as  follows  : 
About  quarter-past  two  o'clock,  the  prison- 
ers were  taken  out  of  their  cells  to  attend 
the  usual  Sunday  services  conducted  by 
Rev.  Mr.  Williams.  Soon  after  they  were 
called  out,  the  attention  of  Captain  Lam- 
bert, keeper  of  the  jail,  was  called  to  th« 
gate,  by  the  sentry  who  was  on  the  roof, 
.  and  instantly  the  doors  were  burst  open,  a 


BEIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


399 


rush  made,  and  Captain  Lambert  thrown 
apon  the  ground  and  held.  The  prisoners 
were  at  the  same  moment  seized  and  car- 
ried out.  A  carriage  was  outside,  iu  which 
the  criminals  were  placed;  and  a  pair  of 
fins,  dashing  gray  horses  sprang  at  the 
word  in  the  direction  of  Dupont  street. 
At  this  juncture,  the  bell  of  the  Monu- 
mental was  rung  in  quick,  sharp  strokes. 
The  excitement  and  uproar  were  terrific, 
the  multitude  surging  now  this  way,  now 
that,  as  the  carriage  dashed  fiercely  along. 
Pistols  were  held  at  the  heads  of  the  cap- 
tives while  they  rode  along,  and  almost 
before  the  crowd  realized  what  had  hap- 
pened, the  prisoners  were  safe  in  the  com- 
mittee's chamber  of  judgment.  The  pris- 
oners were  taken  by  about  forty  armed 
persons,  just  as  the  sermon  in  the  prison 
had  been  concluded,  and  resisted  to  the 
utmost  the  strong  arm  of  the  capturers, 
weapons  being  presented  with  deadly  aim 
on  both  sides. 

From  every  ward  in  the  city,  and  from 
the  most  remote  suburban  parts  within  the 
sound  of  the  Vigilance  bell,  people  came 
flocking,  breathless  and  excited,  to  the 
scene  of  execution.  The  streets  presented 
a  scene  of  furious,  mad  disorder.  Living 
masses  surged  down  the  by-ways,  through 
the  thoroughfares,  and  over  the  planked 
roads,  until  the  tramp  and  roar  of  the  mul- 
titude sounded  like  the  beating  of  the 
ocean  waves  upon  a  stormy  shore.  Mont- 
gomery street  poured  its  tide  of  human 
masses  into  California  street,  and  the  lat- 
ter emptied  its  living  contents,  like  a 
mighty  river,  upon  the  spot  where  the 
prisoners  had  been  taken  by  their  captors, 
namely,  the  vigilance  committee's  cham- 
bers— two  large  frame-houses,  ranged  side 
by  side,  of  two-story  construction,  their 
gable  ends  fronting  Battery  street,  in  the 
block  between  California  and  Pine  streets. 
The  lower  floors  of  these  buildings  were  oc- 
cupied as  stores — the  upper  apartments  as 
the  Vigilance  chambers,  each  having  heavy 
double  doors,  opening  upon  Battery  street, 
above  which  projected  timbers  and  pulleys, 
such  as  are  used  in  store-lofts  for  the  pur- 
pose of  hoisting  goods  from  the  ground. 


And  now  an  outcry  and  huzza  rent  the 
air,  and  was  borne  up  from  the  rooms  of 
the  committee  far  into  the  city,  until  ten 
thousand  throats  seemed  to  join  in  a  gen- 
eral cheer  and  shout  of  congratulation. 
The  committee  were  prepariny  to  execute 
justice  upon  the  criminals!  A  carriage 
dashed  round  the  corner  and  up  California 
street.  It  was  greeted  with  cheer  after 
cheer.  The  driver  stood  up  in  his  box, 
waved  his  hat,  and  huzzaed  in  reply. 
This  was  the  carriage  in  which  the  prison- 
ers had  been  carried  off  from  the  county 
jail,  and  which  was  now  returning  from 
the  committee  rooms.  It  was  drawn  by 
gray-white  horses,  whose  sides  were  reek- 
ing with  foam  and  perspiration. 

In  the  southern  chamber,  a  rope  had 
been  'reeved'  through  the  block  attached 
to  the  beam  above  the  left  door.  When 
the  door  of  the  northern  chamber  opened, 
a  few  members  appeared  without  their 
coats,  and  addressed  a  few  words  to  the 
masses  below,  announcing  the  capture  of 
the  prisoners.  Cries  of  "  hang  them  up  !  " 
"  now  and  here  !  "  ensued,  and  the  tumult 
each  moment  grew  greater.  "  We  have 
them — never  fear — it  is  all  right"  re- 
sponded the  committee  ;  and  a  thundering 
shout  of  wild  congratulation  went  up  from 
the  surging  mass.  A  few  of  the  commit- 
tee then  smashed  out  the  glass  above  the 
door  of  the  southern  chamber,  and  one  of 
their  number  mounted  into  the  opening, 
holding  one  end  of  a  rope.  Dexterously 
clinging  to  the  clapboards  on  the  outside, 
he  managed  to  pass  the  rope  through  the 
block,  and  returned  with  the  two  ends  to 
the  floor.  Both  doors  of  the  committee 
rooms  were  then  closed — the  fatal  ropes 
inside. 

Seventeen  minutes  had  now  been  spent 
in  rescuing  the  prisoners  from  the  jail, 
conveying  them  to  the  rooms,  and  com- 
pleting the  preliminaries  of  their  execu- 
tion. The  great,  dense,  agitated  crowd 
that  covered  the  roofs,  and  clung  by  doz- 
ens to  the  sides  of  all  the  adjoining  houses, 
and  packed  the  streets,  darkened  the  walls, 
and  filled  the  rigging  and  boats  along  the 
docks,  presented  an  awful  and  imposing 


400 


KEIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


EXECUTIONS  BT  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE  IN  SAN  FHANCI9CO. 


spectacle  of  excited,  impatient  and  resolute 
manhood.  Ten  thousand  faces  were  up- 
turned, when  the  doors  of  both  chambers 
were  simultaneously  jerked  open,  present- 
ing to  view  each  of  the  prisoners,  half  sur- 
rounded at  each  door  by  committee  men. 
A  terrific  shout  rent  the  air. 

The  multitude  tossed  to  and  fro — above 
all,  amid  all,  calmly  but  sternly  stood  the 
band  of  vigilants,  and  in  their  hands  the 
fainting,  drooping,  gasping  criminals,  their 
arms  pinioned  and  their  feet  secured. 
The  rope  was  about  their  necks,  their 
coats  having  been  removed,  and  they  stood 
aghast  and  trembling  in  the  brief  second 
of  lifetime  allowed  them  to  confront  the 
stormy  sea  of  human  beings  below.  An- 
other second  of  time,  and  they  were  tossed 
far  out  into  space,  and  drawn  like  light- 
ning to  the  beam's  end.  Both  were  exe- 
cuted at  one  and  the  same  instant,  the 
signal  being  given  throughout  the  cham- 
bers, and  the  members  rushing  back  with 
the  rope  until  the  culprits  each  had  been 
dragged  to  the  block,  and  hung  almost 
motionless  by  the  neck.  Then  a  few  con- 
vulsive throbs,  and  all  was  over.  McKen- 
zie  was  attired  in  gray  pants  and  coarse 
shirt,  and  was  hung  from  the  beam  in  front 


of  the  northern  room ;  while 
being  dragged  to  the  fatal  spot  from  the 
further  end  of  the  room,  he  manifested  the 
most  overwhelming  fright  and  terror, 
and  the  countenance  he  exhibited,  when 
brought  up  to  the  door,  was  one  never  to 
be  forgotten  by  those  who  looked  upon  it — 
his  face  was  pallid,  his  eyes  upturned,  his 
hair  appeared  to  stand  out  from  the  scalp, 
and  every  fiber  of  his  flesh  quivered  and 
seemed  to  clutch  existence.  Whittaker 
was  more  indifferent  and  unmoved ;  but  he 
was  cleanly  dressed,  and  was  much  the  bet- 
ter looking  man  of  the  two. 

Such  terrible  and  repeated  examples  of 
swift  justice  at  the  hands  of  the  commit- 
tee, proved  effective,  to  a  great  degree,  in 
cleansing  San  Francisco  from  the  horde  of 
criminals  with  which  it  had  so  sorely  been 
infested,  and,  for  a  long  time  after,  the 
citizens  ceased  to  live  in  terror  of  burglars, 
robbers,  assassins,  and  incendiaries.  In 
Sacramento,  too,  where  similar  scenes  of 
retribution  had  been  enacted,  resulting  in 
the  summary  execution  of  those  noted  fel- 
ons, Eoe,  Robinson,  Gibson,  and  Thomp- 
son, the  work  of  reformation  seemed  well- 
nigh  effectual.  Indeed,  the  occupation  of 
a  vigilance  committee  appeared  to  be  over 


KEIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


401 


— and   it  existed,  therefore,  for  years,  as 
scarcely  more  than  a  nominal  organization. 

In  1856,  however,  crime  had  again  be- 
come so  rampant  and  stalked  abroad  with 
such  impunity,  that  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee once  more  took  justice  into  its  own 
hands,  with  an  iron  and  uncompromising 
sway,  though  this  time  not  without  a  fearful 
struggle  with  the  constituted  authorities. 

The  great  exciting  provocation  to  the 
resumption  of  the  committee's  work,  at 
this  period,  was  the  deliberate  and  cold- 
blooded murder  of  James  King  of  William 
(an  appellation  which  he  carried  with  him 
from  Virginia),  editor  of  the  Evening  Bul- 
letin, by  James  P.  Casey,  editor  of  the 
Sunday  Times,  both  of  San  Francisco. 
Mr.  King  was  one  of  the  earliest  emigrants 
to  California,  and  was  a  man  universally 
respected  and  admired  for  his  probity  and 
independence.  He  began  the  publication 
of  the  Bulletin  with  the  avowed  purpose 
of  denouncing  the  political  and  moral  cor- 
ruption which  had  gained  for  San  Fran- 
cisco such  an  unenviable  reputation.  The 
manliness  and  courage  with  which  he  pur- 
sued this  work  of  reform  gained  for  him 
the  friendship  of  right-minded  people  of 
every  class,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 
enmity  of  the  dishonest  and  criminal. 
Casey,  the  murderer,  was,  both  in  private 
character  and  habits  and  in  his  connection 
with  municipal  politics,  a  man  of  the  class 
to  whom  Mr.  King  was  most  likely  to  be 
obnoxious. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  May,  Mr.  King, 
in  a  rejoinder  to  an  attack  made  upon  him 
in  the  Times,  stated  that  the  editor  of  that 
journal,  Casey,  had  been  an  inmate  of 
Sing  Sing  prison,  and  had  secured  his 
election  to  an  office  in  San  Francisco  by 
fraud.  Casey  called  on  King  for  satisfac- 
tion, failing  to  obtain  which,  he  at  once 
watched  for  him  on  the  street,  and,  at  five 
o'clock  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day, 
the  two  met  in  public.  With  hardly  a. 
word  of  warning  —  giving  his  victim  no 
time  for  defense, — Casey  drew  a  revolver, 
and  shot  Mr.  King  through  the  left  breast. 
The  latter  lingered  for  a  few  days  and 

died  on  the  20th. 

26 


The  murder  was  followed  by  the  arrest 
of  Casey,  and  he  was  conveyed  to  jail 
amidst  intense  popular  excitement,  his 
immediate  execution  being  demanded  by 
the  infuriated  multitude.  A  party  of  men, 
numbering  several  hundred,  got  together, 
armed  themselves,  put  several  small  can- 
non on  drays,  and  were  on  the  point  of 
starting  to  attack  the  jail,  but  finally  de- 
sisted. It  soon  became  evident  that  noth- 
ing could  be  done  without  an  organization, 
now  deemed  imperative.  A  horde  of  mur- 
derers and  other  notoriously  bad  men  had 
collected  in  the  city,  and  had  long  gone 
unpunished  and  unterrified.  The  next 
morning,  therefore,  the  members  of  the 
old  vigilance  committee  met,  and  began  to 
admit  new  members.  For  three  days  they 
sat  in  almost  constant  session  secretly. 
About  twenty-five  hundred  members,  old 
and  new,  were  admitted,  these  binding 
themselves  to  obey  a  committee  of  fifty, 
who  alone  knew  what  was  to  be  done. 

On  the  following  Sunday  morning,  the 
committee  were  ordered  to  assemble,  and 
be  armed  with  a  musket  and  revolver  each. 
They  were  divided  off  into  companies,  and 
officers  appointed.  A  six-pounder  cannon 
was  provided,  and  at  ten  o'clock  they 
marched  to  the  jail,  which  they  sur- 
rounded. The  cannon  was  loaded,  and 
every  musket  was  loaded  with  ball  and  had 
a  fixed  bayonet.  At  one  o'clock,  Casey, 
at  his  own  request, — desirous,  as  he  said, 
to  prevent  bloodshed, — was  surrendered  to 
the  committee,  who  conducted  him  in  a 
carriage  to  their  chambers.  Subsequently 
they  took  Charles  Cora,  the  murderer  of 
General  Richardson,  United  States  mar- 
shal, unconvicted  on  account  of  the  jury 
disagreeing,  and  lodged  him  in  one  of  their 
rooms.  All  this  took  place  amidst  the 
most  perfect  silence  and  order ;  the  forces 
of  the  committee  marched  to  the  jail  with- 
out bugle  or  drum,  and  hardly  a  word  was 
spoken,  even  by  the  thousands  of  specta- 
tors who  witnessed  the  scene. 

The  funeral  of  Mr.  King  was  marked  by 
every  manifestation  of  popular  respect  for 
the  deceased.  Stores  were  closed,  houses 
were  hung  with  black,  men  wore  crape  on 


402 


REIGN  OF  THE  VIGILANCE  COMMITTEE. 


their  arms,  bells  were  tolled,  and  flags 
were  displayed  at  half-mast.  Meanwhile, 
Casey  and  Cora's  crimes  had  been  adjudged 
worthy  of  death,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
great  gathering  at  the  funeral,  the  rooms 
of  the  committee  were  surrounded  by  about 
twenty  thousand  people,  who  had  got  an 
intimation  that  the  committee,  fearing  a 
rescue,  had  determined  to  hang  the  crimi- 
nals forthwith. 

A  most  formidable  guard  was  arranged 
by  the  committee,  numbering  about  three 
thousand  stand  of  muskets  and  two  field- 
pieces.  The  streets  in  the  immediate  vi- 
cinity of  the  rooms  were  cleared  by  the 
soldiers,  and  the  bristling  bayonets  that 
were  displayed  in  every  direction  made  the 
scene  one  of  great  solemnity. 

At  about  one  o'clock,  the  workmen  were 
seen  preparing  the  gallows  in  front  of  the 
committee  rooms, — now  located  in  a  two- 
story  granite  building, — a  platform  being 
extended  from  each  of  two  front  windows 
of  the  second  floor,  extending  about  three 
feet  beyond  the  line  of  the  building,  and 
provided  with  a  hinge  at  the  outer  line  of 
the  window  sill,  the  extreme  end  being 
held  up  by  means  of  a  cord  attached  to  a 
beam,  which  projected  from  the  roof  of  the 
building,  and  to  which  the  fatal  rope  was 
also  attached. 

Soon  the  prisoners  were  brought  to  the 
windows,  in  view  of  the  multitude,  dressed 
in  their  usual  garments,  and  mounted  the 
platform,  having  their  arms  pinioned. 
They  both  appeared  to  be  firm,  and  but 
little  affected  by  the  dreadful  fate  that 
awaited  them.  Before  placing  the  rope 
upon  their  necks,  an  opportunity  was  given 


them  to  speak  to  the  people  assembled. 
Casey  made  a  few  remarks,  but  Cora  did 
not  speak.  At  twenty  minutes  past  one 
o'clock,  everything  being  ready,  the  signal 
was  given,  the  cord  that  held  up  the  outer 
end  of  the  scaffolds  or  platforms  was  cut 
upon  the  roof  of  the  building,  and  the  doom- 
ed men  were  both  launched  into  eternity. 

The  work  of  death  being  ended,  the 
body  of  armed  men  who  had  acted  as 
guards,  were  all  drawn  up  in  line,  and 
reviewed  by  the  superior  officers;  after 
which,  they  countermarched  down  to  the 
rooms,  and,  entering  one  door,  stacked 
their  arms,  filed  out  at  another  door,  and 
mingled  with  the  citizens. 

Extending  its  operations  throughout  the 
state,  the  committee  determined  to  effect 
a  complete  renovation  of  society, — to  break 
up  and  drive  from  the  state  the  bands  of 
felons  with  which  it  was  infested, — and  to 
awe  into  submission  the  political  bullies 
who  so  largely  controlled  the  elections. 
After  executing  some  four  criminals,  and 
transporting  or  banishing  many  more, 
thus  securing  comparative  quiet  and  order, 
the  committee  relinquished  its  administra- 
tion of  justice;  the  same  was  the  case  in 
Sacramento,  Stockton,  San  Jose,  and  other 
places,  where  crime,  unawed  and  unpun- 
ished by  courts,  had  been  thus  summarily 
and  sternly  dealt  with  by  an  outraged 
community.  The  committee  on  no  occa- 
sion denied  the  illegality  of  their  acts; 
they  defended  their  course  solely  on  the 
ground  that  there  was  no  security  for  life 
or  property  either  under  the  regulations  of 
society,  as  then  existing,  or  under  the  laws 
as  then  administered. 


', 

VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  "AMERICA,"  IN  THE 
GREAT  INTERNATIONAL  REGATTA.— 1851. 


She  Distances,  by  Nearly  Eight  Miles,  the  Whole  Fleet  of  Swift  and  Splendid  Competitors,  and  Wins 
"the  Cup  of  all  Nations." — Grandest  and  Most  Exciting  Spectacle  of  the  Kind  Ever  Known. — Queen 
Victoria  Witnesses  the  Match. — Universal  Astonishment  at  the  Result. — Admiration  Elicited  hy  the 
"  America's  "  Beautiful  Model  and  Ingenious  Rig. — Scenes  at  the  "  World's  Exhibition  "  at  London. — 
Grand  Finale  Yet  to  Come  Off. — Championship  of  the  Sea. — England  Sensitive  on  this  Point. — Her 
Motto,  "  Rule  Britannia  1" — George  Steers  Builds  the  America. — Commodore  Stevens  Takes  Her  to 
England — His  Challenge  to  All  Countries. — An  International  Prize  Race. — Eighteen  Yachts  Entered. 
— The  Scene  on  Wave  and  Shore. — All  Sails  Set  :  The  Signal. — Every  Eye  on  "  the  Yankee." — Her 
Leisurely  Movements. — Allows  Herself  to  be  Distanced — Her  Quality  Soon  Shown.— No  "Belly  ing" 
of  Canvas. — Amazing  Increase  of  Speed. — All  Rivals  Passed,  One  by  One. — They  Return  in 
Despair. — Great  Odds  for  the  America. — Is  Visited  by  Queen  Victoria. 


On  6TCT7  tide  was  heard  the  hall,  "  In  the  America  first  ?  "—The  answer,  *'  YM  I  "— 
con  Tims. 


'  Whit's  second  ?  "—The  rtply, "  NOTBWO  I "— LOH- 


RATIFYING,  in  the  highest  degree,  to  the  pride  of  every  American,  was  the 
announcement  that,  in  the  great  and  exciting  international  yacht 
race, — which  formed,  in  an  important  sense,  the  grand 
finale  of  the  "  Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  AH 
Nations,"  held  in  London,  in  1851, — the  victory  had 
been  won  by  the  clipper  yacht  America,  of  one 
hundred  and  seventy  tons,  built  by  Mr.  George 
Steers,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  and  commanded  by 
Commodore  John  C.  Stevens,  also  of  New  York. 
The  prize  was  no  less  than  "The  Cup  of  all  Na- 
tions." 

Making  but  an  indifferent  show  of  contributions 
to  the  various  departments  of  art,  science,  and 
manufactures,  at  that  renowned  exposition,  the 
conclusion  had  become  universal,  that  the  United 
States  would  gain  but  little  eclat  in  that  magnifi- 
cent congress  of  the  industries  of  civilization.  One 
trial  of  championship,  however,  was  yet  to  be  made 
and  determined, — the  supremacy,  in  respect  to 

architectural  model,  equipment,  nautical  skill,  and  power  of  speed,  upon  that  element, 
the  dominion  of  which  has  ever  been  the  coveted  achievement  of  every  maritime  coun- 


404 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


try,  and  of  England  in  particular, — the 
high  claims  put  forth  by  the  latter  being 
well  understood. 

How  happily  it  was  reserved  for  the 
United  States  to  take  this  honor  to  her- 
self, in  a  manner,  too,  undreamed  of  Ly 
any  compeer  or  rival,  will  appear  from  the 
following  history  of  the  great  fact,  as  given 
at  the  time  by  the  press  of  both  England 
and  America.  Indeed,  in  respect  to  the 
English  journals  and  the  English  public, 
it  can  truly  be  said,  that  fair  play  and 
manly  acknowledgment  of  a  fair  beat 
were  never  more  honorably  exhibited.  And 
this  lastrnamed  fact  is  all  the  more  credit- 
able, when  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case  are  considered.  A  large  portion  of 
the  British  peerage  and  gentry  left  their 
residences  and  forsook  their  usual  diver- 
sions, to  witness  the  struggle  between  the 
yachtsmen  of  England,  hitherto  unmatched 
and  unchallenged,  and  the  Americans  who 
had  crossed  the  Atlantic  to  meet  them. 
All  the  feelings  of  that  vast  population 
swarming  in  British  ports  and  firmly 
believing  in  "Rule  Britannia,"  as  an  arti- 
cle of  national  faith;  all  the  prejudices  of 
the  nobility  and  wealthy  aristocracy,  who 
regarded  the  beautiful  vessels  in  which 
they  cruised  about  the  channel  and  visited 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  every 
summer  as  the  perfection  of  naval  archi- 
tecture, were  roused  to  the  highest  degree ; 
and  even  the  Queen  of  England  did  not 
deem  the  occasion  unworthy  of  her  pres- 
ence. 

Until  the  very  Jay,  August  twenty- 
second,  1851,  of  this  celebrated  contest,  no 
Englishman  ever  dreamed  that  any  nation 
could  produce  a  yacht  with  the  least  pre- 
tensions to  match  the  efforts  of  White, 
Camper,  Ratsey,  and  other  eminent  build- 
ers ;  and  in  the  pages  of  the  Yacht  List 
for  that  very  year  (1851),  there  was  an 
assertion  which  every  man  within  sight  of 
sea  water  from  the  Clyde  to  the  Solent 
would  swear  to,  namely,  that  "  yacht  build- 
ing was  an  art  in  which  England  was 
unrivaled,  and  that  she  was  distinguished 
pre-eminently  and  alone  for  the  perfection 
of  science  in  handling  them."  Of  the  sev- 


enteen yacht  clubs  in  various  parts  of  the 
united  kingdom,  not  one  of  them  had  ever 
seen  a  foreigner  enter  the  lists  in  the 
annual  matches.  It  was  just  known  that 
there  was  an  imperial  yacht  club  in  St. 
Petersburg,  maintained,  it  was  affirmed, 
by  the  imperial  treasury,  to  encourage  a 
nautical  spirit  among  the  nobility,  and 
that  a  few  owners  of  yachts  at  Rotterdam 
had  enrolled  themselves  as  a  club ;  but, 
till  the  America  came  over,  the  few  who 
were  aware  of  the  fact  that  there  was  a 
flourishing  club  in  New  York  did  not 
regard  it  as  of  the  slightest  consequence, 
or  as  at  all  likely  to  interfere  with  their 
monopoly  of  the  glory  of  the  manliest  of  all 
sports.  The  few  trial  runs  made  by  the 
America,  on  her  arrival  in  English  waters, 
proved  her  to  be  of  great  speed,  and  satis- 
fied the  English  critics  that  her  owners 
were  not  so  little  justified  as  at  first  they 
had  been  thought,  in  offering  to  back  an 
untried  vessel  against  any  other  yacht 
for  the  large  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
or  for  a  cup  or  piece  of  plate.  An  inter- 
esting reminiscence  or  two,  in  this  connec- 
tion, related  by  Colonel  Hamilton,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  club,  may  here  be  given, 
namely : 

There  had  previously  been  some  talk 
among  the  members  of  the  New  York 
yacht  club,  of  a  race  with  the  yachts  of 
England,  and  Mr.  \V.  H.  Brown,  the  well- 
known  and  skillful  ship-builder,  had  under- 
taken to  build  a  schooner  that  should  out- 
sail any  other  vessel  at  home  or  abroad, 
and  he  agreed  to  make  the  purchase  of  her 
contingent  upon  her  success.  His  offer 
was  accepted  by  the  yacht  club.  And 
now,  to  the  master  hand  and  brain  of  that 
accomplished  architect,  GEORGE  STEERS, 
was  confided  the  task  of  furnishing  the 
model  of  this — to  be  —  nautical  wonder. 
The  America  was  built.  Failing,  however, 
in  repeated  trials,  to  beat  Commodore 
Stevens's  yacht  Maria,  the  club  were  not 
bound  to  purchase.  But  the  liberality  of 
the  original  offer  was  so  great,  in  assuming 
all  risk,  and  the  vessel  in  fact  proved  her- 
self so  fast,  that  several  gentlemen,  the 
commodore  at  the  head,  determined  to  buy 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


405 


her  and  send  her  out.  She  was  accord- 
ingly purchased,  and  sent  to  Havre,  there 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  members  of  the 
club,  who  were  to  sail  her,  they  following 
in  a  steamer. 

Everything  being  made  ready  and  com- 
pleted at  Havre,  they  sailed  thence  to 
Cowes,  a  seaport  of  the  Isle  of  Wight — the 
scene  of  the  contemplated  regatta.  Their 
arrival  was  greeted  with  every  hospitality 
and  courtesy,  not  only  by  the  noblemen 
and  gentlemen  of  the  royal  yacht  club,  but 
by  the  officers  of  government.  Lord 
Palmerston  issued  an  order  that  the  Amer- 
ica should  be  admitted  in  all  the  English 
ports  on  the  footing  of  English  yachts; 
the  custom-houses  were  all  made  free  to 
her;  and  the  admiral  of  the  station  at 


GEORGE  STEERS. 


Portsmouth  offered  every  assistance  and 
civility.  The  Earl  of  Wilton,  and  the 
veteran  Marquis  of  Anglesea,  the  latter 
eighty  years  of  age,  were  among  the  first 
visitors  on  board. 

When  the  time  for  the  regatta  came, 
which  was  to  take  place  on  the  most  dan- 
gerous course  possible  for  a  stranger — in 
the  waters  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  with  their 
currents  and  eddies,  familiar  only  to  those 
accustomed  to  the  water — great  solicitude 
was  naturally  felt  by  the  Americans,  as  to 
the  pilot  to  be  employed.  Warnings  of 
all  sorts,  from  various  quarters,  reached 
them,  not  to  rely  too  much  on  any  pilot 
that  might  offer ;  and  the  commodore  was 
naturally  perplexed.  But  here  again  the 
English  admiral,  with  an  intuitive  percep- 
tion of  the  difficulty — of  which  no  men- 


tion, nevertheless,  had  ever  been  made  to 
him  —  told  Commodore  Stevens  that  he 
would  furnish  him  with  a  pilot  for  whom 
he  himself  would  be  answerable.  The 
offer  was  as  frankly  accepted  as  it  was 
honorably  made.  The  pilot  came  on 
board,  and  never,  for  a  moment,  was  there 
a  suspicion  on  any  mind  that  he  was  not 
thoroughly  honest  and  reliable.  Yet,  so 
strong  was  the  distrust  among  Americans 
outside,  that  even  after  the  pilot  was  in 
charge,  the  commodore  was  warned,  by 
letter,  not  to  trust  too  much  to  him,  and 
urged  to  take  another  pilot  to  overlook 
him.  But  the  commodore's  own  loyalty 
of  character  would  not  entertain  such  a 
proposition  —  he  gave  his  confidence  to 
the  pilot  the  admiral  sent  him,  and  it  was 
completely  justified. 

The  London  Times  said  that  never,  in 
the  history  of  man,  did  Cowes  present  such 
an  appearance  as  on  the  eventful  day 
appointed  for  this  race.  Upwards  of  one 
hundred  yachts  lay  at  anchor  in  the  roads ; 
the  beach  was  crowded  ;  and  the  esplanade 
in  front  of  the  club  swarmed  with  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  and  with  the  people  inland, 
who  came  over  in  shoals,  with  wives,  sons, 
and  daughters,  for  the  day.  Booths  were 
erected  all  along  the  quay,  and  the  road- 
stead was  alive  with  boats,  while  from 
sea  and  shore  arose  an  incessant  buzz  of 
voices  mingled  with  the  splashing  of  oars, 
the  flapping  of  sails,  and  the  hissing  of 
steam,  from  the  excursion  vessels  prepar- 
ing to  accompany  the  race.  Flags  floated 
from  the  beautiful  villas  which  stud  the 
wooded  coast,  and  ensign  and  bargee,  rich 
with  the  colors  of  the  various  clubs  or  the 
devices  of  the  yachts,  flickered  gayly  out  in 
the  soft  morning  air.  The  windows  of  the 
houses  which  commanded  the  harbor  were 
filled  from  the  parlor  to  the  attic,  and  the 
"old  salts  "  on  the  beach  gazed  moodily  on 
the  low  black  hull  of  "  the  Yankee,"  and 
spoke  doubtfully  of  the  chances  of  her 
competitors.  Some  thought  "  the  Vo- 
lante  "  might  prove  a  teaser  if  the  wind 
was  light ;  others  speculated  on  "  the 
Alarm  "  doing  mischief,  if  there  was  wind 
enough  to  bring  out  the  qualities  of  that 


406 


VICTORIOUS  EACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


large  cutter  in  beating  up  to  windward 
and  in  tacking ;  while  more  were  of  the 
opinion  that  the  America  would  carry  off 
the  cup,  "blow  high — blow  low."  It  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  the  little  town 
gave  space  enough  to  the  multitudes  that 
came  from  all  quarters  to  witness  an  event 
so  novel  and  interesting.  Among  the  vis- 
itors were  countless  strangers — Frenchmen 
en  route  for  Havre,  Germans  in  quiet  won- 
derment at  the  excitement  around  them, 
and  Americans  already  triumphing  in  the 
anticipated  success  of  their  countrymen. 

Eighteen  yachts  were  entered,  and  were 
moored  in  a  double  line  from  Cowes  castle, 
the  Beatrice  being  nearest  that  point,  the 
America  about  midway,  and  the  Aurora 
farthermost.  The  mist  which  hung  over 
the  fields  and  woods  from  sunrise  was  car- 
ried off  about  nine  o'clock  by  a  very  gentle 
breeze  from  the  westward,  which  veered 
round  a  little  to  the  south  soon  afterwards, 
and  the  morning  became  intensely  warm. 

At  five  minutes  before  ten  o'clock,  the 
preparatory  gun  was  fired  from  the  club- 
house battery,  and  the  yachts  were  soon 
sheeted  from  deck  to  topmast  with  clouds 
of  canvas,  huge  gaff  topsails  and  balloon 
jibs  being  greatly  in  vogue,  and  the  Amer- 
ica evincing  her  disposition  to  take  advan- 
tage of  her  new  jib  by  hoisting  it  with  all 
alacrity.  The  whole  flotilla,  not  in  the 
race,  were  already  in  motion,  many  of 
them  stretching  down  towards  Osborne 
and  Hyde,  to  get  a  good  start  of  the  clip- 
pers. Of  the  yachts  that  entered,  fifteen 
•tarted,  seven  of  these  being  schooners 
and  eight  cutters. 

Precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  the  signal  gun 
for  sailing  was  fired,  and  before  the  smoke 
had  well  cleared  away  the  whole  of  the 
beautiful  fleet  was  under  way,  moving 
steadily  to  the  east,  with  the  tide  and  a 
gentle  breeze.  The  start  was  effected 
splendidly,  the  yachts  breaking  away  like 
a  field  of  race-horses ;  the  only  laggard 
was  the  America,  which  did  not  move  for 
a  second  or  so  after  the  others.  Steamers, 
shore-boats,  and  yachts,  of  all  sizes,  buzzed 
along  on  each  side  of  the  course,  and 
spread  away  for  miles  over  the  rippling 


sea — a  sight  such  as  the  Adriatic  never 
beheld  in  all  the  pride  of  Venice — such, 
indeed,  as  was  never  before  known  in  the 
annals  of  yachting.  Soon  after  they 
started,  a  steamer  went  off  from  the  roads 
with  the  members  of  the  sailing  committee 
— Sir  B.  Graham,  Bart.,  commodore,  of 
the  royal  yacht  squadron,  and  other  distin- 
guished gentlemen.  The  American  minis- 
ter, Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence,  and  his  son, 
Colonel  Lawrence,  attache  to  the  American 
legation,  arrived  too  late  for  the  sailing  of 
the  America,  but  were  accommodated  on 
board  the  steamer,  and  went  round  the 
island  in  her. 

The  Gipsey  Queen,  with  all  her  canvas 
set  and  in  the  strength  of  the  tide,  took 
the  lead  after  starting,  with  the  Beatrice 
next,  and  then,  with  little  difference  in 
order,  the  Volante,  Constance,  Arrow,  and 
a  flock  of  others.  The  America  went 
easily  for  some  time  under  mainsail,  (with 
a  small  gaff-topsail  of  a  triangular  shape, 
braced  up  to  the  truck  of  the  short  and 
slender  stick  which  served  as  her  main-top- 
mast,) foresail,  fore-staysail  and  jib ; 
while  her  competitors  had  every  cloth  set 
that  the  club  regulations  allowed.  She 
soon  began  to  creep  upon  them,  passing 
some  of  the  cutters  to  windward.  In  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  she  had  left  them  all 
behind,  except  the  Constance,  Beatrice, 
and  Gipsey  Queen,  which  were  well  to- 
gether, and  went  along  smartly  with  the 
light  breeze.  Once  or  twice  the  wind 
freshened  a  little,  and  at  once  the  Amer- 
ica gathered  way,  and  passed  ahead  of  the 
Constance  and  Beatrice.  Another  puff 
came,  and  she  made  a  dart  to  pass  the 
Gipsey  Queen,  but  the  wind  left  her  sails, 
and  the  little  Volante  came  skimming  past 
her  with  a  stupendous  jib,  swallowing  up 
all  the  wind  that  was  blowing.  The  glo- 
rious pageant,  passing  under  Oeborne- 
house,  formed  a  pageant  surpassingly  fine, 
the  whole  expanse  of  sea,  from  shore  to 
shore,  being  filled  as  it  were  with  a  count- 
less fleet,  while  the  dark  hull  of  the  Ven- 
geance, eighty-four,  in  the  distance  at 
Spithead,  towered  in  fine  relief  above  the 
tiny  little  craft  that  danced  around  her ; 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


407 


the  green  hills  of  Hampshire,  the  white 
batteries  of  Portsmouth,  and  the  pictur- 
esque coast  of  Wight,  forming  a  fine 
frame-work  for  the  picture. 

As  the  Volante  passed  the  America, 
great  was  the  delight  of  the  patriotic,  but 
the  nautical  knowing  ones  shook  their 
heads,  and  said  the  triumph  would  be 
short-lived ;  the  breeze  was  freshening, 
and  then  the  sprightly  cutter  must  give 
way,  though  she  was  leading  the  whole 
squadron  at  the  time.  At  half-past  ten, 
the  Gipsey  Queen  caught  a  draught  of 


densely  crowded.  But  the  America  was 
forging  ahead,  and  lessening  the  number 
of  her  rivals  every  moment.  The  Sand- 
heads  were  rounded  by  the  Volante, 
Gipsey  Queen,  and  America,  without  any 
perceptible  change  in  point  of  time,  at 
eleven  o'clock,  the  last  being  apparently 
to  leeward.  Again,  the  wind  freshened, 
and  the  fast  yachts  came  rushing  up  before 
it,  the  run  from  the  Sandheads  being  most 
exciting,  and  well  contested.  Here  one  of 
the  West  India  mail  steamers  was  ob- 
served paddling  her  best,  to  come  in  for 


YACHT  A11EHICA :  J.  C.  STEVENS,  COM. 


wind  and  ran  past  the  Volante, — the  Con- 
stance, America,  Arrow,  and  Alarm,  being 
nearly  in  a  line  ;  but  in  fifteen  minutes, 
the  breeze  freshened  again  for  a  short 
time  and  the  America  passed  the  Arrow, 
Constance,  and  Alarm,  hut  could  not  shake 
off  the  Volante  nor  come  up  to  the  Gipsey 
Queen,  and  exclamations  were  heard  of 
"  Well,  Brother  Jonathan  is  not  going  to 
have  it  all  his  own  way,"  etc. 

Passing  Ryde,  the  excitement  on  shore 
was  very  great,    and  the   vast   pier   was 


some  of  the  fun,  and  a  slight  roll  of  the 
set  inwards  began  to  impart  a  livelier 
motion  to  the  yachts,  and  to  render  excur- 
sionists, whether  male  or  female,  ghastly, 
looking  and  uncomfortable. 

The  yachts  Volante,  Freak,  Aurora 
Gipsey  Queen,  America,  Beatrice,  Alarm, 
Arrow,  and  Bacchante,  were  timed  off 
Norman's  Land  buoy  ;  the  other  six  were 
staggering  about  in  the  rear,  and  the 
Wyvern  soon  afterwards  hauled  her  wind, 
and  went  back  towards  Cowes. 


408 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


At  this  point,  the  wind  blew  somewhat 
more  steadily,  and  the  America  began  to 
show  a  touch  of  her  quality.  Whenever 
the  breeze  took  the  line  of  her  hull,  all  the 
sails  set  as  flat  as  a  drumhead,  and,  with- 
out any  careening  or  staggering,  she 
"walked  along"  past  cutter  and  schooner, 
and,  when  off  Brading,  had  left  every 
vessel  in  the  squadron  behind  her,  with 
the  exception  of  the  Volante,  which  she 
overtook  at  half-past  eleven,  when  she 
very  quietly  hauled  down  her  jib,  —  as. 
much  as  to  say  she  would  give  her  rival 
every  odds, — and  laid  herself  out  for  the 
race  round  the  back  of  the  island.  The 
weather  showed  signs  of  improvement,  as 
far  as  yachting  was  concerned  ;  a  few  sea- 
horses waved  their  crests  over  the  water, 
the  high  lands  on  shore  put  on  their  fleecy 
"nightcaps"  of  cloud,  and  the  horizon 
looked  delightfully  threatening  ;  and  now 
"  the  Yankee  "  flew  like  the  wind,  leaping 
over,  not  against,  the  water,  and  increasing 
her  distance  from  the  Gipsey  Queen, 
Volante,  and  Alarm,  every  instant.  The 
way  her  sails  were  set  evinced  superiority 
in  the  cutting  which  the  English  makers 
would  barely  allow,  but,  certain  it  was, 
that  while  the  jibs  and  mainsails  of  her 
antagonists  were  "bellied  out,"  her  canvas 
was  as  flat  as  a  sheet  of  paper.  No  foam, 
but  rather  a  water-jet  rose  from  her  bows  ; 
and  the  greatest  point  of  resistance — for 
resistance  there  must  be"  somewhere  — 
seemed  about  the  beam,  or  just  forward  of 
her  mainmast,  for  the  seas  flashed  off  from 
her  sides  at  that  point  every  time  she  met 
them.  While  the  cutters  were  thrashing 
through  the  water,  sending  the  spray  over 
their  bows,  and  the  schooners  were  wet  up 
to  the  foot  of  the  foremast,  the  America 
was  as  drj'  as  a  bone.  She  had  twenty-one 
persons  on  her  deck,  consisting  of  the 
owners,  the  crew,  cook,  and  steward,  a 
Cowes  pilot,  and  some  seamen.  They 
nearly  all  sat  aft,  and,  when  the  vessel  did 
not  require  any  handling,  crouched  down 
on  the  deck  by  the  weather  bulwarks. 
The  Gipsey  Queen,  when  a  little  past 
Brading,  seemed  to  have  carried  away  her 
foresail  sheets,  but  even  had  it  not  been 


so,  she  had  lost  all  chance  of  success.  The 
America,  as  the  wind  increased,  and  it  was 
now  a  six-knot  breeze,  at  least,  hauled 
down  her  wee  gaff-topsail,  and  went  away 
under  mainsail,  foresail,  and  fore-staysail, 
so  that  it  required  the  utmost  the  steamer 
could  do  to  keep  alongside  of  her.  This 
was  her  quickest  lit  of  sailing,  for  on 
rounding  the  east  point  of  the  island  it 
was  necessary  to  beat  to  the  westward,  in 
order  to  get  along  the  back  of  the  Wight. 

At  11 : 37,  the  Arrow,  Bacchante,  Con- 
stance, and  Gipsey  Queen,  stood  away  to 
the  north,  to  round  the  Nab,  imagining 
that  it  was  requisite  to  do  so,  as  the  usual 
course  was  to  go  outside  the  lightship, 
though  the  cards  did  not  specify  it  on  this 
occasion.  The  America  and  most  of  the 
other  yachts  kept  their  course  round  the 
Foreland  and  by  Bembridge.  She  ran 
past  the  white  and  black  buoys  at  a  tre- 
mendous rate,  and,  at  11 : 47,  tacked  to  the 
west,  and  stood  in  towards  the  Culver  cliffs, 
the  nearest  yacht  being  at  least  two  miles 
to  leeward  or  astern  of  her.  She  was  not 
very  quick  in  stays  on  this  occasion,  and 
it  would  seem  she  was  not  very  regular  in 
that  maneuver,  sometimes  taking  a  minute, 
sometimes  thirty  seconds,  to  perform  it. 
At  11 : 58,  she  stood  out  again  to  the  south- 
east, and,  having  taken  a  stretch  of  a  mile 
or  so,  went  about  and  ran  in  towards  San- 
down.  The  breeze  died  off  at  this  point, 
and  to  keep  the  cutters  and  light  craft  off, 
the  America  hoisted  her  gaff-topsail  and 
jib  once  more.  Under  Shanklin  Chine  the 
set  of  the  tide  ran  heavily  against  her,  but 
still  there  was  nothing  to  fear,  for  her 
rivals  were  miles  away,  some  almost  hull 
down. 

While  running  under  Dunnose,  at  12 : 58, 
her  jib-boom  broke  short  off;  it  was 
broken  by  mismanagement  on  the  part  of 
the  men  when  straining  on  it  with  the 
windlass,  and  did  not  snap  from  the  action 
of  the  sail.  This  accident  threw  her  up  in 
the  wind,  and  gave  the  advantage  of  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  her  opponents, 
while  she  was  gathering  in  the  wreck. 
But  it  was  of  little  use  to  them.  Looking 
away  to  the  east,  they  were  visible  at 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


409 


great  distances,  standing  in  shore,  or 
running  in  and  out,  most  helplessly  astern 
— the  Aurora,  Freak,  and  Volante,  in  spite 
of  light  winds  and  small  tonnage,  being 
two  or  three  miles  behind  The  wind  fell 
off  very  much  for  more  than  an  hour,  and 
it  was  but  weary  work  stretching  along 
the  coast  against  a  baffling  tide,  every 
moment  making  the  loss  of  her  ^ib  of 
greater  consequence  to  the  America 


"  CUP  OP  ALL  NATIOKS,"  WOS  BY  THE  AMERICA. 

At  about  3 : 20,  the  breeze  freshened, 
and  the  America,  still  some  miles  ahead, 
slipped  along  on  her  way,  making  tacks 
with  great  velocity,  and  standing  well  up 
to  windward.  Her  superiority  was  so 
decided  that  several  of  the  yachts  wore, 
and  went  back  again  to  Cowes  in  despair  ; 
and,  for  some  time,  the  America  increased 
her  distance  every  second,  the  Aurora, 
Freak,  and  Volante,  keeping  in  a  little 
squadron  together  —  tack  for  tack — and 


running  along  close  under  the  cliffs.  This 
was  rather  unfortunate  in  one  respect,  for, 
in  going  about,  the  Freak  fouled  the 
Volante  and  carried  away  her  jib-boom ; 
and  the  boatman's  pet  became  thereby 
utterly  disabled,  and  lost  the  small  glimpse 
of  fortune  which  the  light  winds  might 
have  given  her. 

Meanwhile,  minute  after  minute,  "the 
Yankee  "  was  gaining  ground,  and  at  3 :  30 
was  flying  past  St.  Lawrence  towards  Old 
Castle,  while  the  Bacchante  and  Eclipse, 
•which  had  been  working  along  honestly 
and  steadily,  were  about  two  and  a  half 
miles  to  leeward  behind  her.  Further 
away  still,  were  visible  five  or  six  yachts, 
some  hull  down,  some  dipped  further  still, 
digging  into  the  tideway  as  hard  as  they 
could,  and  lying  into  the  wind  as  well  as 
their  sails  might  stand  it. 

By  this  time,  the  America  had  got  the 
wind  on  her  quarter,  having  gone  round 
Rocken-end,  and  thus  having  a  tolerably 
fair  course  from  the  south  to  north-west, 
up  to  the  Needles,  the  wind  being  light 
and  the  water  somewhat  broken.  The 
persons  on  board  the  steamers  were  greatly 
astonished  at  seeing  ahead  of  the  America, 
after  she  had  rounded  Rocken-end,  a  fine 
cutter  with  a  jib  and  foresail  together — 
:; "  two  single  gentlemen  rolled  into  one," 
bowling  away  with  all  speed,  as  if  racing 
away  for  her  life,  and  it  was  sometime 
before  they  could  be  persuaded  she  was 
not  the  Aurora ;  but  she  was  in  reality  the 
Wildfire,  forty-two  tons,  which  was  taking 
a  little  share  in  the  match  to  herself,  and 
had  passed  the  End  at  3 :  40.  The  Amer- 
ica, however,  bore  straight  down  for  the 
cutter,  which  was  thoroughly  well-sailed, 
and  passed  her  after  a  stern  chase  of  more 
than  an  hour,  though  the  Wildfire,  when 
first  sighted,  was  reckoned  to  be  some  two 
and  a  half  miles  ahead. 

At  5 :  40,  the  Aurora,  the  nearest  yacht, 
was  fully  seven  and  one-half  miles  astern, 
the  Freak  being  about  a  mile  more  distant, 
and  the  rest  being  "nowhere."  The 
America  was  at  this  time  close  to  the 
Needles,  upon  which  she  was  running  with 
a  light  breeze  all  in  her  favor. 


410 


VICTORIOUS  RACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


Two  of  the  excursion  steamers  ran  into 
Alum  Bay,  and  anchored  there  to  see  the 
race  round  the  Needles.  While  waiting 
there  in  intense  anxiety  for  the  first  vessel 
that  should  shoot  round  the  immense  pil- 
lars of  chalk  and  limestone  which  bear  the 
name,  the  passengers  were  delighted  to 
behold  the  Victoria  and  Albert,  with  the 
royal  standard  at  the  main,  and  the  Lord 
•  Admiral's  flag  at  the  fore,  steaming  round 
from  the  north-west,  followed  by  the 
Fairy,  and  the  little  dock-yard  tender. 
Her  majesty,  Prince  Albert,  and  the  royal 
family,  were  visible  by  the  aid  of  a  glass 
from  the  deck  of  the  steamers.  The  royal 
yacht  went  past  the  Needles,  accompanied 
by  the  Fairy,  at  5  :  35,  but  quickly  re- 
turned, and  at  5  : 45  lay  to,  off  Alum  Bay. 
The  Fairy  was  signaled  to  proceed  round 
the  Needles,  to  bring  tidings  of  the  race, 
and  at  once  started  on  her  errand. 

But  all  doubt  and  speculation,  if  any 
there  could  have  been,  was  soon  removed 
by  the  appearance  of  the  America  hauling 
her  wind  round  the  cliff,  at  5 :  50.  The 
breeze  fell  dead  under  the  shore,  and  the 
America  lowered  out  her  foresail  and  fore- 
staysail  so  as  to  run  before  it.  All  the 
steamers  weighed  and  accompanied  her, 
giving  three  cheers  as  she  passed,  a  com- 
pliment which  owners  and  crews  ac.knowl- 
edged  with  uncovered  heads  and  waving 
hats.  At  6 : 04  the  Wildfire  rounded  the 
Needles,  and  bore  away  after  the  schooner, 
which  by  this  time  had  got  almost  in  a 
line  with  the  Victoria  and  Albert ;  and, 
though  it  is  not  usual  to  recognize  the 
presence  of  her  majesty  on  such  occasions 
as  a  racing  match — no  more,  indeed,  than 
a  jockey  would  pull  up  his  horse  to  salute 
the  queen,  when  in  the  middle  of  his 
stride, — the  America  instantly  lowered  her 
ensign,  blue  with  white  stars,  the  commo- 
dore took  off  his  hat,  and  all  his  crew,  fol- 
lowing his  order  and  example,  remained 
with  uncovered  heads  for  some  minutes, 
till  they  had  passed  the  royal  yacht.  The 
steamers,  as  she  passed  on,  renewed  their 
cheering. 

On  turning  towards  the  Needles,  at 
6:30,  not  a  sail  was  in  sight,  but  the 


breeze  was  so  very  light  that  all  sailing 
might  be  said  to  have  finished ;  and  it  was 
evident  that  the  America  had  won  the 
cup,  unless  some  light  cutter  ran  up  with 
a  breeze  in  the  dusk  and  slipped  past  her. 
The  steamers  returned  towards  Cowes,  and 
the  royal  yacht,  having  run  close  by  the 
America  under  half-steam  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, went  on  towards  Osborne.  Off 
Cowes  were  innumerable  yachts,  and  on 
every  side  was  heard  the  hail,  "Is  the 
America  first  ?  "  —  The  answer,  "  Yes." 
"What's  second?"— The  reply,  "Noth- 
ing." 

As  there  was  no  wind,  the  time  con- 
sumed in  getting  up  from  Hurst  Castle  to 
the  winning  flag  was  very  considerable, 
the  America's  arrival  first  not  having 
been  announced  by  gunfire  till  8  :  37.  The 
Aurora,  which  slipped  up  very  rapidly 
after  rounding  the  Needles,  in  consequence 
of  her  light  tonnage  and  a  breath  of  wind, 
was  signaled  at  8 : 45 ;  the  Bacchante  at 
9  : 30  ;  the  Eclipse  at  9  : 45  ;  the  Brilliant 
at  1 :  20  a.  m.,  August  23d.  The  rest  were 
not  timed.  Thus  the  America  made  good 
all  her  professions,  and  to  Commodore 
Stevens  was  presented,  by  the  royal  yacht 
squadron,  the  well-won  cup. 

On  the  evening  after  the  race  there  was 
a  splendid  display  of  fire-works  by  land 
and  water  along  the  club-house  esplanade, 
at  which  thousands  of  persons  were  pres- 
ent. A  re-union  also  took  place  at  the 
club-house,  and  the  occasion  was  taken  of 
the  Hon.  Abbott  Lawrence's  presence  to 
compliment  him  on  the  success  of  his 
countrymen  ;  to  which  his  excellency  made 
a  suitable  reply,  humorously  remarking 
that,  though  he  could  not  but  be  proud  of 
his  fellow-citizens,  he  still  felt  it  was  but 
the  children  giving  a  lesson  to  the  father 
— and  if  the  America  should  be  purchased 
by  English  friends,  the  Yankees  would 
nevertheless  try  to  build  something  better 
in  New  York,  so  as  to  beat  even  her ! 

The  queen  having  intimated  her  desire 
to  inspect  the  America,  the  latter  sailed 
from  Cowes  to  Osborne,  where  the  Victoria 
and  Albert  also  dropped  down.  As  the 
queen,  with  Prince  Albert,  and  suite,  neared 


VICTORIOUS  KACE  OF  THE  YACHT  AMERICA. 


the  America,  the  national  colors  of  that 
vessel  were  dipped,  out  of  respect  to  her 
majesty,  and  raised  again  when  she  had 
proceeded  on  board.  The  queen  made  a 
close  inspection  of  the  vessel,  attended  by 
Commodore  Stevens,  Colonel  Hamilton, 
and  the  officers  of  the  yacht,  remaining 
half  an  hour  on  board,  and  expressing 
great  admiration  of  the  famous  schooner. 
Indeed,  the  America's  beautiful  and  ingen- 
ious model,  and  her  remarkable  sailing 
qualities,  were  the  astonishment  of  every- 
body. 

The  triumph  of  the  America  was  due 
alike  to  her  superior  model  and  to  the 
unique  cut  and  fit  of  her  sails.  The  first 
thing  that  met  the  eye,  whether  the  vessel 
was  afloat  or  in  dock,  was  the  position  of 
the  greatest  transverse  section — in  ap- 
pearance situated  at  about  ten-seventeenths 
of  her  whole  length  from  forward ;  at  this 
section,  the  bottom  was  nearly  straight  for 
several  feet  out  from  the  keel,  while  the 
two  sides  included  an  angle  of  about  one 
hundred  degrees.  At  the  forepart,  her 
appearance  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
observances  of  modern  ship-building, 


namely,  the  avoidance  of  hollow  water- 
lines,  hers  being  very  concave,  and  her 
forefoot  exceedingly  short,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  lower  part  of  the  stem  and 
gripe  forming  a  long  curve,  and  therefore 
only  a  small  rudder  being  needed ;  in  con- 
sequence of  this,  there  was,  in  steering, 
but  little  impediment  opposed  to  her  pas- 
sage through  the  water ;  the  great  draught 
of  her  water  ait,  eleven  feet  four  inches, 
with  only  six  feet  forward,  added  also  to 
her  facility  in  steering.  Any  defect  that 
might  be  expected  to  result  from  this  in 
sailing  on  a  wind,  was  quite  avoided  by 
her  great  depth  of  keel, — two  feet  two 
inches  amidships.  The  copper  was  placed 
upon  her  bottom  with  great  care,  and 
every  possible  projection  avoided,  in  order 
to  diminish  the  friction  in  passing  through 
the  water.  But  by  far  the  most  distin- 
guishing feature  of  the  America  was  the 
set  of  her  sails.  The  bellying  of  the  sails 
of  yachts  universally  —  not  only  when 
running  free,  but  also  when  sailing  on  a 
wind — was,  in  the  case  of  the  America, 
avoided  to  a  very  great  extent,  and  from 
this  arose  much  of  her  superiority. 


LI. 

RECEPTION    OF    GOV.    KOSSUTH,    THE    GREAT    HUNGA- 
RIAN EXILE,  AS  THE  INVITED  GUEST  OF  THE 
NATION.— 1851. 


Splendid  Military  Pafeant  in  New  York,  on  His  Arrival. — Welcomed  and  Banqueted  by  President  Fill- 
more. — Received  with  Distinguished  Official  Honors  on  the  Floor  of  Congress. — He  Eloquently 
Pleads  His  Country's  Cause  in  all  Parts  of  the  Land  — Processions,  Congratulatory  Addresses,  Accla- 
mations, etc. — A  True-Hearted  Patriot. — What  Hungary  Fought  for. — Austrian  Despotism  Resisted. 
— Independence  Demanded  — Kossuth  the  Leading  Champion — Armies  in  the  Field — Successes  and 
Reverses. — Russia's  Sword  for  Austria. — Kossuth's  Flight  to  Turkey. — Long  an  Exile  There. — 
America  Interposes  for  Him — Offers  a  Conveyance  to  the  United  States. — The  Nation's  Courtesy 
Accepted. — Frigate  Mississippi  Sent. — Kossnth  and  Suite  on  Board. — His  Landing  at  New  York. — 
Magnificent  Preparations  for  Him. — Invited  to  Washington. — Speech  before  Congress. — An  Unprec- 
edented Distinction. — His  Untiring  Labors. — Greatest  Orator  of  the  Day. 


"  FREEDOM  and  HOME  t  what  heavenly  music  in  thoee  words !    Alas,  I  have  no  home,  and  toe  freedom  of  my  people  is  down-trodden." 
— Kosscru.oii  HIS  ABRiViL  1.1  AHBKICA. 


U.   8.    STEAMER  MISSISSIPPI   CONVEYING   KOSS0TH. 

OSSUTH'S  reception  in  the  United  States,  as  the  great 
advocate  of  Hungarian  independence,  was,  in  some  of  its 
most  interesting  aspects,  like  that  accorded  to  the  illustri- 


RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE. 


413 


ous  Lafayette.  In  the  case  of  Kossuth, 
however,  instead  of  homage  for  services 
rendered  in  the  dark  hour  of  our  nation's 
peril,  the  welcome  extended  him  was  the 
tribute,  spontaneous  as  well  as  universal, 
of  a  great  and  admiring  republic,  to  one 
of  the  bravest  and  most  eloquent  of  pa- 
triots, enthusiastically  apnealing,  in  his 
exile,  to  the  generous  sympathies  of  man- 
kind, in  behalf  of  his  father-land, — a  people 
strong  and  valorous,  but  crushed  beneath 
the  heavy  chains  of  Austrian  despotism, 
backed  by  the  power  of  Russian  bayonets. 

Louis  Kossuth  was  born  in  1806,  at 
Monok,  in  the  north  of  Hungary,  of  pa- 
rents not  rich,  yet  possessing  land,  and 
calling  themselves  noble.  His  native  dis- 
trict was  a  Protestant  one,  and  in  the 
pastor  of  that  district  young  Kossuth 
found  his  first  teacher.  His  parents  dying, 
the  youth,  more  devoted  to  books  than 
farming,  was  dispatched  to  the  provincial 
college,  where  he  remained  till  the  age  of 
eighteen,  having  earned  even  at  that  time 
the  reputation  of  being  the  most  able  and 
promising  youth  of  the  whole  district.  In 
1826,  he  removed  to  the  university  of 
Pesth,  where  he  came  in  contact  with  the 
progressive  political  influences  and  ideas 
of  the  time ;  and  these,  blending  with  his 
own  historic  studies  and  youthful  hopes, 
soon  produced  the  ardent,  practical  patriot. 

According  to  the  constitution  of  Hun- 
gary, the  electoral  body — called  "Comi- 
tats," — treated  those  elected  to  sit  in  the 
Diet  more  as  delegates  than  as  deputies. 
They  gave  them  precise  instructions,  and 
expected  the  members  not  only  to  conform 
to  them,  but  to  send  regular  accounts  of 
their  conduct  to  their  constituents  for  due 
sanction,  and  with  a  view  to  fresh  instruc- 
tions. This  kind  of  communication  was 
rather  an  onerous  task  for  the  Hungarian 
country  gentlemen,  and  hence  many  of 
the  deputies  employed  such  young  men  as 
Kossuth  to  transact  their  political  business, 
and  conduct  their  correspondence.  Acting 
in  this  capacity  for  many  members  of  the 
Diet,  Kossuth  not  only  became  an  expert 
parliamentary  agent,  but  won  great  polit- 
ical esteem  and  influence. 


This  kind  of  position  soon  made  Kos- 
suth a  member  himself,  and  from  the  very 
first  he  distinguished  himself  in  the  Diet 
as  a  speaker.  Under  his  lead,  too,  the 
Diet  proceeded  to  establish  a  journal  for 
the  publication  of  its  debates,  but  which, 
being  garbled  and  curtailed  by  the  Aus- 
trian censors,  soon  passed  into  Kossuth's 
hands  exclusively,  who  extended  the  scope 
of  the  journal  by  inserting  editorial  arti- 
cles. The  character  of  these  articles  so 
incensed  the  Austrian  authorities,  that 
they  seized  his  presses.  In  a  short  time, 
however,  Kossuth's  reports  and  articles 
were  printed  by  the  then  new  method  of 
lithography,  and  circulated  even  more 
largely,  notwithstanding  the  increased 
labor  and  expense.  This  success  but 
redoubled  the  inveteracy  of  the  Austrian 
government,  which  dissolved  the  Diet,  and 
were  no  sooner  rid  of  its  control  and 
importunity,  than  they  discovered  and 
destroyed  all  Kossuth's  lithographic  appa- 
ratus. But  even  this  did  not  stop  his  pen 
nor  those  of  his  many  amanuenses  ;  until 
at  last  Metternich,  the  prime  minister,  ex- 
asperated by  Kossuth's  obstinacy,  caused 
him  to  be  seized  and  condemned  to  impris- 
onment, for  the  crime  of  treason.  The 
indignation  and  agitation  which  followed 
this  act,  ended,  eventually,  in  his  release. 

Unterrified  by  prisons  and  dungeons, 
Kossuth,  aided  by  the  counsels  and  co-ope- 
ration of  his  associates,  continued  to  stir 
the  hearts  of  his  countrymen,  and  to 
demand  political  independence  for  his 
country.  Among  the  many  men  of  noble 
birth,  wealth,  national  renown,  and  exalted 
talents,  who  surrounded  him,  Kossuth 
shone  pre-eminent  In  1847,  he  was  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  the  constitutional 
party,  and  member  for  the  Hungarian  cap- 
ital. Nor  did  he  falter  when  many  broke 
off  from  him,  and  refused  to  follow  his 
extreme  measures  of  resistance.  Of  this 
last  class  were  the  Hungarian  aristocracy, 
turning  to  whom,  Kossuth  ironically  said, 
"  With  yo'i,  if  you  choose  ;  without  you, 
or  against  you,  if  it  must  be." 

The  vehemency  with  which  he  advo- 
cated the  right  and  ability  of  the  people  of 


414  RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE. 


Hungary  to  govern  themselves  was  aston- 
ishing, and  multitudes  rallied  to  his  stand- 
ard. Nothing  in  modern  eloquence  equals 
his  speeches  and  proclamations  at  this 
time.  He  also  vigorously  assailed  the 
tariff  system  imposed  upon  Hungary,  and 
which  crippled  her  industry,  thrift,  and 
power, — a  point  which  he  used  to  great 
advantage  in  gaining  public  opinion.  Up 
to  1847,  he  thus  continued,  with  matchless 
eloquence  and  amazing  activity,  to  secure 
a  reform  in  the  institutions  and  law,s 
affecting  his  country, — a  transformation  of 
her  moral,  political,  and  material  interests, 
as  against  the  hostile  policy  of  Austrian 
absolutism.  It  was  a  struggle  for  the 
rights  of  Hungary,  in  all  circumstances 
and  against  all  foes.  And  now  came  that 
eventful  year  in  the  history  of  Europe, 
1848,  which  drove  Louis  Philippe  in  terror 
from  the  throne  of  France,  and  filled 
almost  every  capital  of  empires  and  king- 
doms with  the  hayonets  of  those  who,  long 
oppressed,  resolved  now  to  be  free.  This 
was  the  hour  for  Hungary,  and  Kossuth 
was  the  man !  In  a  long  series  of  years, 
with  the  pen,  with  the  press,  and  as  an 
orator,  he  had  circumvented  and  repelled 
the  arts  of  Austrian  despotism.  The  time 
had  now  come  to  create  a  treasury,  organ- 
ize an  army,  and  accept  the  wager  of 
battle.  Under  the  lead  of  Kossuth's  ani- 
mating spirit  was  this  accomplished ;  and 
the  motley  bands  of  Hungarian  recruits, 
under  the  direction  of  Kossuth  as  governor 
of  the  nation,  waged,  for  a  time,  such  vic- 
torious warfare  against  the  veteran  legions 
of  Austria,  as  fairly  astonished  the  world. 
It  was  in  March,  1848,  that  the  spirit  of 
revolution  broke  out  in  Vienna,  the  Aus- 
trian capital.  Metternich,  the  wily  tool 
of  tyrants,  fled  in  dismay.  Kossuth  en- 
tered the  capital  in  triumph !  Terror- 
stricken  at  the  gulf  of  ruin  which  yawned 
before  him,  the  emperor  made  haste  to 
grant  concessions,  namely,  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  Hungarian  peasantry  from 
feudal  burdens,  a  fair  representation  of  the 
whole  people  in  the  Diet,  the  abolition  of 
all  exemptions  from  taxation,  the  freedom 
of  the  press,  and  trial  by  jury.  But,  not- 


withstanding the  emperor's  assent  to  these 
enactments,  the  Austrian  government  was 
soon  engaged  in  fomenting  grave  difficul- 
ties in  Hungarian  affairs,  and  this  led  to 
those  great  military  preparations  on  the 
part  of  Kossuth,  which  rapidly  took  the 
form  of  active  and  bloody  war. 

With  great  vigor  and  spirit  did  the 
brave  Hungarians  carry  on  the  campaign, 
and  for  a  time  their  armies  were  every- 
where successful.  But  afterwards,  Russia 
came  and  flung  both  sword  and  purse  into 


the  scale,  and,  though  the  armies  of  the 
tyrants  had  suffered  five  great  defeats  and 
lost  every  military  position  they  had 
gained,  the  odds  of  numbers  against  the 
struggling  patriots  had  now  become  too 
vast  to  admit  of  successful  resistance  on 
their  part.  Buda  was  stormed  and  taken 
possession  of  by  the  Hungarians  in  May, 
but  immense  Russian  forces  were  in  a  few 
weeks  collected  on  the  frontiers,  and  in 
July  they  simultaneously  poured  into  Hun- 
gary from  the  north  and  east,  while  the 
Croats,  under  Jellachich,  advanced  from 
the  south,  and  the  Austrians  from  the 
west.  The  struggle  was  soon  terminated. 
Gorgey,  the  Hungarian  general,  surren- 
dered with  his  army  of  forty  thousand  men 
to  the  Russians,  only  two  days  after  the 
governorship  of  the  country  had  been 
resigned  to  him  by  Kossuth.  Other  sur- 
renders soon  followed,  and  thus  the  wal 
ended. 


EECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE.  415 


During  this  struggle,  the  forces  brought 
into  the  field  at  any  one  time  by  the  Hun- 
garians, never  exceeded  one  hundred  and 
thirty-five  thousand  men,  with  four  hun- 
dred pieces  of  artillery ;  against  whom 
were  opposed,  in  the  final  campaign,  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  Russians,  and 
one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  Austrian 
troops,  besides  insurgent  Wallacks,  Servi- 
ans, etc.,  making  a  total  of  three  hundred 
thousand  men. 

Thus  perished,  through  Russian  inter- 
vention, the  cause  of  Hungarian  nation- 
ality. 

Kossuth's  name  had  been  nailed  to  the 
Austrian  gallows,  and  he  fled  as  an  exile 
into  Turkey.  Austria  and  Russia  de- 
manded that  he  be  delivered  up,  but  France 
and  England  interposed  in  his  behalf,  and 
the  sultan  continued  to  prote«t  him  in  the 
asylum  which  he  had  chosen.  At  length, 
the  offer  of  a  resolution  in  the  senate  of  the 
United  States,  that  the  American  govern- 
ment should  exert  its  influence  in  behalf 
of  the  exiles,  seemed  likely  to  solve  the 
difficulty.  This  resolution  passed.  As 
soon  as  the  sultan  — who  certainly  had 
risked  the  safety  of  Turkey  in  disregard- 
ing the  threats  of  Austria  and  Russia — 
received  the  assurance  of  the  support  of 
America  and  England,  he  not  only  at- 
tached no  condition  to  their  liberation,  but 
gave  them  the  choice  of  being  conveyed  to 
England  or  America,  as  they  preferred. 
The  legation  of  the  United  States  at  Con- 
stantinople having  assured  Kossuth  that 
no  restraint  would  be  put  upon  his  liberty 
in  America,  he  gratefully  accepted  the 
offer  made  by  congress,  and  wrote  a  letter 
of  thanks  to  President  Fillmore. 

In  September,  1851,  the  fine  American 
steam-frigate  Mississippi  arrived  for  the 
conveyance  of  the  late  governor  of  Hun- 
gary, his  wife,  his  three  children,  and  his 
friends,  to  whatever  country  they  desired. 
Soliman  Bey,  the  Turkish  guard  of  the 
refugees  during  their  exile,  and  who  had 
never  failed  in  the  most  respectful  atten- 
tions to  them,  was  overcome  with  emotion 
when  Kossuth  came  to  leave,  and  in  part- 
ing said  to  him,  "  You  are  free,  and  now 


you  will  find  friends  everywhere ;  do  not 
forget  those  who  were  your  friends  when 
you  had  no  other."  From  their  first 
entrance  into  Turkey  to  the  hour  of  their 
leaving,  the  Hungarians  had  experienced 
unvarying  kindness,  hospitality,  and  cour- 
tesy. 

Kossuth  proposed  to  pay  a  short  visit  to 
England,  on  his  way  to  the  United  States. 
As  the  Mississippi  approached  the  coasts 
of  Italy  and  France,  bonfires  were  kindled 
along  the  heights,  as  a  sign  of  rejoicing. 
Kossuth  proposed  to  stop  at  Marseilles, 
and  travel  thence  to  England,  but  the 
French  authorities,  by  direction  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  would  not  permit  him  to  land. 
The  people  of  France,  however,  gave  him 
ample  demonstration  that  they  were  not 
responsible  for  the  acts  of  the  government ; 
they,  crowded  around  the  ship,  offering 
him  garlands  of  laurel,  while  they  pre- 
sented wreaths  of  everlasting  to  the  Amer- 
icans, and  filled  the  air  with  enthusiastic 
cheers.  While  opposite  the  shores  of 
Marseilles,  an  operative  came,  notwith- 
standing the  cold,  swimming  through  the 
water,  on  board  the  frigate,  to  grasp  Kos- 
suth's hand.  Kossuth  pressed  the  work- 
man's hand  most  warmly,  and  gently 
reproached  him  for  his  temerity.  'Que 
voulez  vous,'  he  replied ;  '  I  desired  to 
touch  your  hand,  I  could  not  find  a  boat,  I 
took  to  the  water,  and  here  I  am.  Are 
there  any  obstacles  to  him  who  wills  ? ' 

Landing  at  Gibraltar,  Kossuth  took  pas- 
sage in  the  English  steamer  Madrid  for 
Southampton,  and,  after  a  most  enthusi- 
astic reception  in  the  principal  English 
cities  by  the  hard-working  masses,  they 
left  for  America.  To  the  great  republic 
of  the  west  he  had  been  invited  by  con- 
gress, and  here  he  was  received  as  the 
nation's  guest  by  the  president,  by  sena- 
tors and  representatives,  by  governors  and 
legislators,  by  men  in  the  highest  station, 
and  by  the  whole  mass  of  the  people. 
He  arrived  off  Staten  Island,  December 
fifth,  and  was  received  by  an  official  depu- 
tation who  came  on  board  to  welcome  him 
to  the  United  States. 

Saturday,  December  sixth,  was  the  day 


416 


RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE. 


fixed  upon  by  the  great  metropolis  of  the 
nation,  to  celebrate  his  lauding  in  Amer- 
ica ;  a  few  days  before,  President  Fillmore 
had  announced  to  congress  the  arrival  of 
their  illustrious  guest.  The  very  skies  of 
heaven,  by  their  brightness  and  serenity, 
deemed  to  participate  in  the  welcome 
accorded  to  the  distinguished  chief.  At 
an  earlv  hour,  the  streets  were  filled  with 
a  vast  concourse.  The  decorations  of  the 
streets,  public  buildings,  private  houses,, 
and  places  of  business,  were  on  a  large 
scale  and  in  a  style  of  imposing  magnifi- 
cence. Myriads  of  eager  spectators  filled 
the  space  from  the  Park  to  Castle  Garden, 
intent  on  gaining  an  early  glimpse  of  the 
world-renowned  guest  of  patriotic  Ameri- 
can hospitality. 

The  steamer  that  had  been  provided  to 
bring  Kossuth  up  to  the  city,  was  decor- 
ated at  the  bows  with  a  large  Hungarian 
standard,  and  underneath,  on  the  same 
flag-pole,  was  the  flag  of  the  ship.  At  the 
•tern,  a  large  United  States  banner,  bear- 
ing the  stars  and  stripes,  floated,  and 
showed  a  beautiful  contrast  with  the  Hun- 
garian flag.  On  the  arrival  of  the  chief- 
tain at  the  steamer,  he  was  recognized  by 
his  Hungarian  hat,  and  large  velvet  em- 
broidered coat,  and  a  spontaneous  burst  of 
applause  rose  from  the  anxious  company 
who  were  looking  out  from  the  vessel.  At 
this  moment,  the  band  struck  up  "  Hail  to 
the  Chief,"  and  the  salute  from  the  guns 
of  the  steamer  began,  which  was  the  signal 
for  another  burst  of  enthusiastic  applause. 
After  much  pushing  and  crowding,  in 
which  neither  ladies  nor  Hungarians  were 
much  respected,  the  party  got  on  board, 
and  the  steamer  put  off  into  the  bay,  the 
greeting  of  crowds  on  the  shore  being  per- 
fectly tumultuous.  On  getting  upon  the 
boat,  Kossuth  remained  for  some  time 
viewing  the  expansive  bay,  and  listening 
to  the  descriptions  of  its  various  portions. 

At  half-past  twelve  o'clock,  the  steamer 
came  to,  at  Castle  Garden,  and  the  com- 
pany began  to  debark.  An  avenue  was 
formed  by  the  police  and  military,  through 
which,  Kossuth,  his  staff,  and  the  other 
gentlemen  passed  to  the  large  room,  which 


they  reached  after  much  crushing  and 
pushing.  Among  the  throng  of  eager 
expectants  in  the  Garden  was  a  large  rep- 
resentation of  ladies.  The  actual  arrival 
of  Kossuth  was  the  signal  for  an  uncon- 
trollable uproar,  and  a  fearful  rush  was 
made  toward  the  door  by  which  he  was  to 
enter.  There  was  no  such  thing  as  keep- 
ing order ;  cries  of  "  There  he  is,"  "  Hur- 
rah," deafening  cheers  and  shouts,  set  law 
and  order  completely  at  defiance.  When 
he  was  fairly  recognized  by  the  multitude, 
a  shout  was  given  that  threatened  to  raise 
the  vast  roof  from  its  place.  Nearly  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  of  indescribable  exulta- 
tion ensued,  and  all  the  beseeching  ges- 
tures of  the  mayor  and  committee  were 
unheeded. 

Finally,  the  mayor,  who  was  surrounded 
by  the  common  council  and  the  officers  of 
the  military  companies,  presented  an  ad- 
dress to  Kossuth,  and  then  said  : 

"  I  present  to  you,  my  fellow-citizens, 
KOSSUTH,  the  illustrious  Chief  of  Hun- 
gary." 

Kossuth  bowed  his  acknowledgments  of 
the  enthusiastic  cheers  of  the  crowd,  and 
then  proceeded  to  reply  in  a  speech  of 
most  masterly  eloquence  and  power. 

As  soon  as  the  illustrious  exile  left  the 
Garden  and  made  his  appearance  in  the 
Battery,  the  acclamations  of  the  tens  of 
thousands  present  burst  forth  in  almost  a 
simultaneous  cheer,  dense  and  far-reaching 
though  the  crowd  was.  He  was  provided 
with  a  horse,  and,  surrounded  by  his  com- 
panions in  exile,  rode  round  the  ranks. 
The  different  companies,  with  their  em- 
blazoned standards,  shining  armor,  and 
splendid  uniforms,  went  through  their 
evolutions  in  superb  style. 

The  scene  at  the  moment  Kossuth's 
carriage,  in  its  place  in  the  grand  proces- 
sion, entered  on  Broadway,  surpassed 
description.  Every  window  of  that  wide 
and  magnificent  thoroughfare,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see,  was  alive  with  human 
beings,  and,  amidst  the  waving  of  hand- 
kerchiefs, by  as  beautiful  an  array  of  the 
fair  sex  as  could  be  witnessed,  who  were 
most  enthusiastic  in  their  applause,  the 


RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE.         417 


honored  guest  passed  onward.  It  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  line  of  the 
movement  could  be  kept  in  order,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  rush  of  the  human  tide 
that  endeavored  to  keep  up  with  the  car- 
riage containing  Kossuth.  Every  avenue 
leading  from  Broadway,  lent  its  quota  of 
spectators,  to  swell  up  the  teeming  mass. 
Many  who  had  witnessed  similar  exhibi- 
tions of  popular  enthusiasm  from  the  time 
of  Lafayette's  arrival  in  1824,  said  that 
this  ovation  to  Kossuth  exceeded  all. 
Kossuth  returned  the  greetings  he  re- 
oeived  with  that  grace  and  dignity  always 


For  some  time,  Kossuth  gave  himself  up 
to  receiving  deputations  and  their  congrat- 
ulatory addresses.  These  hailed  from  all 
parts  of  the  land,  and  represented  states, 
municipalities,  corporations,  ecclesiastical 
and  political  bodies,  and  innumerable  soci- 
eties of  various  names,  objects,  and  nation- 
alities. One  of  these  deputations  con- 
sisted of  German  citizens  from  Albany, 
and,  after  the  usual  exchange  of  formal 
addresses,  Kossuth,  taking  each  one  kindly 
by  the  hand,  bade  him  adieu,  and  spoke  a 
few  words  of  cheer.  Approaching  one  of 
the  bystanders  who  had  accompanied  on* 


GRAND  MILITARY  RECEPTION  OP  GOVERNOR  KOSSUTH,  EN  NEW  YORK. 


so  characteristic  of  him.  Yet,  he  seemed 
the  least  interested  of  any  one  in  the 
pageant — the  key  to  his  sadness  being 
found,  doubtless,  in  that  memorable  senti- 
ment uttered  by  him  in  one  of  his  speeches: 
"  Freedom  and  home !  what  heavenly 
music  in  those  two  words  !  Alas,  I  have 
no  home,  and  the  freedom  of  my  people  is 
down-trodden  ! "  Such,  indeed,  was  the  pen- 
give  strain  in  which  Kossuth  always  spoke 

of  himself  and  of  his  ill-fated  father-land, 
27 


deputation,  Kossuth  took  him  by  the 
hand  and  inquired  if  he  too  was  an  Al- 
banian. 

"No,  I  am  a  Jersey  man,"  replied  the 
interrogated,  whose  fair  complexion,  and 
presence  with  the  German  company,  had 
evidently  occasioned  the  mistake.  "  There 
are  several  of  us  here  from  the  state  of 
New  Jersey,"  exclaimed  an  old  farmer, 
"we  have  come  fifty  miles  to  see  you." 
''Believe  me,  my  friends,"  replied  Kos- 


418  RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE. 


euth,  "  I  deeply  appreciate  your  kindness. 
It  is  these  little  attentions  that  most 
touch  my  heart.  Adieu."  Incidents  like 
this  were  constantly  occurring. 

In  Philadelphia,  Kossuth  was  received 
in  Independence  Hall,  where  the  immor- 
tal Declaration  of  American  Independence 
had  been  proclaimed  just  three-quarters  of 
a  century  ago.  From  Philadelphia  he 
went  to  Baltimore,  where  he  was  escorted 
to  his  hotel  by  a  vast  concourse  of  people, 
and  a  long  line  of  military.  The  city 
council  had  voted  resolutions  expressive  of 
their  sympathy  with  the  exiles,  and  with 
their  struggles  for  independence,  and  had 
sent  to  New  York  an  address  welcoming 
Kossuth  and  his  companions.  Kossuth 
now,  therefore,  in  the  hall  of  the  Maryland 
Institute,  expressed  his  thanks  to  the  citi- 
zens of  Baltimore. 

He  reached  Washington  on  the  thirtieth 
of  December,  where  a  committee  consisting 
of  Senators  Seward,  Cass,  and  Shields,  had 
been  appointed  to  officially  welcome  him 
to  the  nation's  capital.  The  secretary  of 
state,  Daniel  Webster,  was  among  the  first 
to  visit  Kossuth,  and  to  mark  his  respect 
for  him.  When  asked,  a  few  days  later, 
what  he  thought  of  the  Hungarian  exile, 
he  replied :  "  He  has  the  manners  of  a 
king — his  is  a  royal  nature." 

The  following  day,  after  the  president's 
levee,  the  rooms  of  Kossuth  were  crowded 
with  visitors,  citizens  and  dignitaries,  who 
came,  not  only  to  see  the  man  whose  fame 
had  filled  two  hemispheres,  but  to  honor 
the  noble  cause  he  represented.  On  the 
sixth  of  January,  Kossuth  dined  with  the 
president  of  the  United  States,  and  other 
high  officials,  at  the  executive  mansion. 
He  was  also  invited  to  an  audience  given 
by  the  president  to  the  Indian  delegations 
from  the  far  west.  On  the  seventK  the 
congress  of  the  United  States  invited  him 
to  the  capitol,  an  honor  which  had  never 
before  been  bestowed  upon  any  individual, 
excepting  Lafayette.  The  galleries  and 
lobbies  were  crowded  with  ladies,  and  as  he 
entered,  the  members  of  the  house  all  rose, 
while  the  chairman  of  the  committee  intro- 
duced him  in  these  words: 


"  Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  the  honor  on  the 
part  of  the  committee,  to  present  Governor 
Louis  Kossuth  to  the  house  of  represent- 
atives." 

To  which  the  speaker  replied  : 
"  As  the  organ  of  this  body,  I  have  the 
honor    to    extend    to    Louis    Kossuth    a 
cordial  welcome  to  the  house  of  represent- 
atives." 

Kossuth  then  said : 

"  Sir,  it  is  a  remarkable  fact  in  the  his- 
tory of  mankind,  that  while,  through  all 
the  past,  honors  were  bestowed  upon  glory, 
and  glory  was  attached  only  to  success,  the 
legislative  authorities  of  this  great  repub- 
lic bestow  honors  upon  a  persecuted  exile, 
not  conspicuous  by  glory,  not  favored  by 
success,  but  engaged  in  a  just  cause. 
There  is  a  triumph  of  republican  princi- 
ples in  this  fact.  Sir,  I  thank  in  my  own 
and  my  country's  name,  the  house  of  rep- 
resentatives of  the  United  States,  for  the 
honor  of  this  cordial  welcome." 

After  he  had  taken  the  seat  prepared 
for  him,  the  house  was  adjourned,  to 
allow  those  who  had  assembled  to  witness 
this  introduction  to  be  presented  to  Kos- 
suth. 

In  the  evening,  a  banquet  was  given 
him  by  the  members  of  both  houses  of 
congress,  presided  over  by  Hon.  W.  R. 
King,  vice-president  of  the  United  States. 
Kossuth  was  placed  at  his  right  hand,  and 
Daniel  Webster,  secretary  of  state,  at  his 
left.  The  speaker  of  the  house  sat  at 
Kossuth's  side.  This  was  indeed  a  great 
occasion  for  Kossuth,  and  nobly  did  he 
bear  himself.  Senators,  judges,  diplomats, 
military  and  naval  dignitaries,  and  cabinet 
ministers,  were  there  to  do  him  honor. 
After  the  health  of  the  president,  and  of 
the  judiciary  of  the  United  States,  had 
been  given,  Judge  Wayne  of  the  supreme 
court  proposed  :  "  Constitutional  liberty  to 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  supported  by 
Christian  faith  and  the  morality  of  the 
Bible ;  "  a  toast  which  was  enthusiastically 
received.  The  presiding  officer  then  gave : 
"Hungary:  represented  in  the  person  of 
our  honored  guest ;  having  proved  herself 
worthy  to  be  free,  by  the  virtues  and  valor 


RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGARIAN  EXILE.          419 


of  her  sons,  the  law  of  nations  and  the 
dictates  of  justice  alike  demand  that  she 
shall  have  fair  play  in  her  struggle  for 
independence."  Kossuth  replied  in  a  long 
and  eloquent  speech.  The  secretary  of 
state,  in  his  speech,  gave  an  authorized 
assurance  of  President  Fillmore's  "  kind- 
ness and  good  wishes  toward  the  guest  of 
the  nation,"  and  also  expressed  his  own 
high  appreciation  of  Kossuth,  his  country 
and  his  cause.  Other  speeches  were  made 
by  the  great  orators  of  the  nation  there 
assembled,  and  nothing  could  exceed  the 
magnificence  of  this  occasion,  in  respect 
to  the  character  and  fame  of  those  in 
attendance,  the  splendor  of  the  intel- 
lectual efforts  of  the  speakers,  and  the 
sumptuousness  of  the  banquet  in  its  ma- 
terial aspects. 

To  the  far  west,  the  south,  and  again  to 
the  east,  Kossuth  extended  his  tour,  plead- 
ing the  cause  of  his  down-trodden  country, 
and  receiving  honors  and  distinctions,  such 
as  a  king  might  covet,  from  one  end  of  the 
broad  land  to  the  other.  Cities  gave  him 
the  freedom  of  their  municipalities  ;  legis- 
latures and  governors  invited  him  to  the 
capitals  of  their  states;  and  the  people 
everywhere  rushed  to  welcome  him.  But 
in  one  thing,  Kossuth  was  bitterly  disap- 
pointed, namely,  in  not  securing  the  active 
interference  of  the  United  States  in  behalf 
of  his  country's  rights.  With  all  his  vast 
powers  of  eloquence  and  logic,  in  demon- 
strating the  law  of  nations  in  this  regard, 
he  invoked  the  strong  arm  of  the  Ameri- 
can republic  to  interpose  for  Hungarian 
nationality.  But,  though  willing  to  pro- 
claim to  the  whole  world,  sympathy  and 
accord  with  the  Hungarian  movement,  the 
American  government  felt  obliged  to  re- 
frain from  any  acts  of  positive  interven- 
tion, as  contrary  to  national  usage  and 
pplicy. 

After  remaining  in  the  United  States 
about  six  months,  during  which  he  made 
nearly  three  hundred  speeches,  about  one 
hundred  of  which  were  elaborate  orations, 
Kossuth  departed  for  England.  A  patri- 
otic fund  which  had  been  raised  in  Amer- 
ica for  the  cause  he  advocated,  wag 


intrusted"  to  him  for  the  service  of  his 
country ;  but,  after  watching  for  many 
years  the  political  skies  of  Europe,  and 
bringing  to  bear  all  the  resources  of  his 
fertile  mind  upon  the  questions  and  events 
affecting  the  destiny  of  his  country,  he  at 
last  saw  the  once  brightened  horizon  of  his 
beloved  father-land  settle  in  the  hopeless 
darkness  of  confirmed  and  accepted  Aus- 
trian rule. 

In  his  appearance  and  manners,  while  a 
visitor  to  this  country,  Kossuth  was  de- 
scribed by  those  who  enjoyed  frequent 
opportunities  of  personal  contact,  as  being 
five  feet  eight  inches  in  height,  with  a 
rather  slight  frame,  and  a  face  expressive 
of  a  penetrating  intellect — long,  with  a 
broad  forehead,  and  the  chin  narrow,  but 
square  in  its  form.  His  hair  thin  in  front, 
and  of  a  dark  brown,  the  same  as  his 
beard,  which  was  quite  long,  but  not  very 
thick,  and  arranged  with  neatness  and 
taste.  He  wore  a  moustache,  heavy  and 
somewhat  long.  His  eyes,  very  large  and 
of  a  light  blue,  well  set  beneath  a  full  and 
arched  brow  ;  complexion  pale,  occasioned, 
doubtless,  by  his  long  captivity  and  inces- 
sant application.  His  countenance  was 
characterized  by  an  aspect  of  almost  mel- 
ancholy earnestness,  of  refinement,  and  of 
gentleness,  mingled  with  manly  fire,  and 
an  air  of  prompt,  decisive  action. 

In  speaking,  nothing  could  be  more 
incomparably  dignified  and  graceful  than 
Kossuth's  manner  ;  gestures  more  admira- 
ble and  effective,  and  a  play  of  countenance 
more  magnetic  and  winning,  could  not  be 
conceived.  He  always  stood  quite  erect, 
instead  of  frequently  bending  forward,  as 
is  the  case  with  some  orators,  to  give 
emphasis  to  a  sentence.  His  posture  and 
appearance  in  repose  indicated  greatness, 
by  their  essential  grace  and  dignity,  and 
impressed  the  beholder  with  a  sense  of 
marked  individuality  ^  and  power.  This 
sense  of  reserved  power  in  the  man — the 
certainty  that  he  was  not  making  an  effort 
and  doing  his  utmost,  but  that  behind  all 
this  strength  of  fascination,  there  were 
other  treasures  of  ability  not  brought  into 
notice,  and  perhaps  never  made  use  of — 


120          RECEPTION  OF  KOSSUTH,  THE  HUNGAEIAN  EXILE. 


constituted  one  of  the  great  charms  of  his 
oratory.  He  spoke  as  if  with  little  prepa- 
ration, and  with  that  peculiar  freshness 
which  belongs  to  extemporaneous  speak- 
ing; every  movement  seemed  perfectly 


easy,  and  he  gesticulated  a  good  deal, 
equally  well  with  either  arm.  The  uni- 
versal remark  concerning  Lim  in  this 
respect  was,  that  he  was  the  greatest  of 
living  orators. 


LII. 

EXHIBITION  OF  THE    INDUSTRY   OF   ALL   NATIONS,    IN 

NEW  YORK.— 1853. 


Conttruction  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  a  Colossal  Building  of  Glass  and  Iron. — Four  Acres  of  Surface  COT- 
ered  with  the  Treasures  of  Art,  Science,  and  Mechanism,  from  Every  Land. — Inauguration  of  the 
Enterprise  by  President  Pierce. — Five  Thousand  Contributors. — Splendor  of  the  Palace  of  Industry 
by  Day ;  Its  Gorgeous  Illumination  at  Night. — Eclat  of  the  Great  London  Fair.— Emulation  Stimu- 
lated Abroad. — An  American  Exhibition  Proposed. — Popularity  of  the  Idea. — Plan  for  a  Building 
Accepted. — Its  Style,  Size,  and  Decorations. — Admirable  Adaptation  of  the  Structure. — Superiority 
to  the  London  Palace. — Rapid  Progress  of  the  Enterprise. — Interest  of  Foreign  Countries  Enlisted. 
— Programme  of  Management. — Brilliant  Ceremony  at  the  Opening. — Celebrities  Present :  Speeches 
Made. — Grand  Hallelujah  Chorus  Sung. — Constant  Tide  of  Visitors. — Beauty,  Utility,  Amusement. 
— Attractions  from  Abroad. — Contributions  by  Monarchs. — Victoria's  Beautiful  Offering. — The  Grand 
Industries  of  Civilization. — Lesson  Taught  by  Such  a  Display. — Luster  Reflected  on  America. 


14  Worthy  of  the  grandest  circumstances  which  could  be  thrown  around  a  human  assembly,  worthy  of  this  occasion,  and  a  hundred  like 
thu,  Uthat  beautiful  idea,  the  COUOKAIIOK  or  LiBOB."— EMUU  BomiTT. 


DTTEBIOB  OF  THE  WOELD'S  FAIB,  NEW  YORK. 


OLLOWIKG  the  brilliant  and 
successful  example  of  England, 
in  the  erection  of  a  colossal  crys- 
tal palace  in  Hyde  Park,  London, 
for  a  World's  Fair,  in  1851,— 
and  into  which  flowed  the  treas- 
ures of  art,  science,  and  mechan- 
ism, from  the  four  quarters  of  the 
globe, — American  enterprise  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  a  similar  struc- 
ture, for  the  exhibition  of  the 
industry  of  all  nations,  in  the 
commercial  metropolis  of  Amer- 
ica ;  and  this  idea,  so  popular  in 
view  of  the  splendid  eclat  attend- 
ing the  vast  and  magnificent 
display  in  London,  was  soon  car- 
ried forward  to  a  complete  and 
happy  consummation. 

The  idea  of  such  a  grand  na- 
tional display  became,  in  a  short 


422 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


time,  the  all  engrossing  one,  from  one  end 
of  the  land  to  the  other,  and  the  public 
men  at  the  seat  of  government  urged  upon 
the  United  States  representatives  at  for- 
eign courts,  a  sense  of  the  importance  of 
the  great  enterprise,  and  the  desirableness 
of  contributions  from  abroad.  It  was 
viewed  as  an  undertaking  which,  if  con- 
ducted with  energy  and  sagacity,  would 
add  luster  to  the  American  nation,  as 
showing  its  appreciation  of  the  luxuries 
and  refinements  of  art,  as  well  as  of  the 
more  substantial  exhibitions  of  human 
industry,  in  the  shape  of  manufactures, 
machinery,  etc. 

In  one  respect,  the  American  exhibition 
differed  from  its  London  predecessor, 
namely  :  the  latter  was  under  the  free  and 
unlimited  auspices  of  the  English  govern- 
ment, with  its  boundless  resources,  while 
the  former  was  undertaken  by  a  company 
of  individuals.  It  was  not,  however,  an 
exclusively  private  speculation,  but  existed 
under  a  charter  granted  by  the  legislature, 
the  company  being  known,  in  their  corpo- 
rate style,  as  the  "Association  for  the 
Exhibition  of  the  Industry  of  All  Nations," 
comprising  men  of  eminence  in  all  the 
influential  spheres  of  society,  and  of  this 
Association.  Mr.  Theodore  Sedgwick  re- 
ceived the  high  honor  of  being  elected 
president.  So  vast  and  multitudinous, 
however,  were  the  details  of  such  an  under- 
taking, that  much  delay  attended  the  oper- 
ations of  those  charged  with  its  active 
responsibilities.  Gradually,  after  the  en- 
countering of  many  formidable  obstacles, 
the  preliminary  matter  of  a  suitable  build- 
ing was  decided;  and  then,  with  instinct- 
ive American  speed,  the  speculation  in 
Crystal  Palace  stock  at  once  commenced, 
and  was  one  of  the  most  active  "  fancies," 
the  gains  of  forty  and  fifty  per  cent.,  as 
was  in  some  cases  experienced,  being  quite 
stimulating.  The  stock  rose,  at  one  time, 
to  seventy  or  eighty  per  cent,  above  par1. 
One  gentleman,  who  had  watched  the 
building  closely  as  it  advanced  in  the 
course  of  construction,  observed  one  day 
something  which  he  thought  might  injure 
the  safety  of  the  edifice.  It  was  only  a 


fancy  of  his ;  but,  being  impressed  with 
it,  he  walked  quietly  into  Wall  street,  and, 
selling  out,  pocketed  a  gain  of  fifteen  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  distribution  of  the  stock 
into  so  many  hands,  and  the  widely 
extended  commercial  interests  involved, 
gained  for  the  enterprise  much  of  a 
national  character.  The  public  support 
given  by  the  government  to  its  operations, 
at  home  and  abroad,  helped  also  to  dignify 
it,  and  to  take  away  the  invidious  reputa- 
tion which  would  have  attached  to  a  proj- 
ect having  no  higher  aim  than  mere 
private  gain.  Following  up  this  system 
of  encouragement,  the  affair  obtained  the 
confidence  and  co-operation  of  all  classes, 
and  its  consummation  was  looked  forward 
to  as  one  of  the  marked  events  in  Ameri- 
can history. 

On  the  attention  of  foreign  governments 
being  called  to  the  exhibition,  His  Sub- 
lime Highness,  the  Sultan  of  Turkey,  was 
one  of  the  first  to  respond  to  the  appeal, 
by  ordering  a  steam-frigate  to  be  prepared 
for  the  reception  and  transmission  of  those 
splendid  fabrics  of  the  Ottoman  empire — 
richly  carved  cabinet  constructions,  and 
carpets  of  wonderful  elaboration — so  much 
admired  the  world  over.  The  senate  of  the 
United  States,  at  once  appropriated  twenty 
thousand  dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  receiv- 
ing, in  a  becoming  manner  of  appreciation, 
the  frigate  thus  so  generously  dispatched 
by  his  oriental  majesty.  England  sent 
commissioners,  and  Queen  Victoria,  the 
Emperor  Napoleon,  and  other  sovereigns, 
vied  with  each  other  in  their  personal  con- 
tributions and  in  those  from  their  respect- 
ive countries. 

Great  pains  were  taken  to  obtain  such  a 
plan  for  the  building  as  would  present  the 
highest  architectural  merit,  and  be  as  per- 
fectly adapted  as  possible  to  the  great  object 
in  view.  At  that  time,  the  matter  of  iron 
construction  on  a  large  scale  was  almost 
entirely  new  in  the  United  States,  there 
being  no  edifice  wholly  of  that  material  to 
be  found  in  the  country,  and,  therefore, 
the  want  of  experience  on  the  part  of  both 
architects  and  engineers,  presented  serious 
obstacles.  Many  ingenious  plans,  how- 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


423 


ever,  were  offered,  from  the  abridged 
account  of  which,  as  well  as  of  the  build- 
ing itself,  prepared  by  Mr.  D.  A.  Wells, 
it  appears  that  Sir  Joseph  Paxton,  the 
architect  of  the  London  structure,  fur- 
nished one  of  sin£  ular  beauty,  but  the 
peculiar  shape  of  the  ground  to  be  occu- 
pied rendered  it  imp  jssible  to  use  it.  Mr. 
A.  J.  Downing  offer*  d  another,  of  striking 
originality,  but  this  was  also  excluded  by 
the  peremptory  conditions  imposed  by  the 
city,  namely,  that  the  building  should  be 
exclusively  of  iron  and  glass.  Another 
plan,  by  Mr.  Eidlitz,  contemplated  a  sus- 
pension roof,  so  as  to  obviate  the  difficulty 
of  spanning  great  widths  by  arches.  Mr. 
Bogardus  submitted  a  design  for  a  circular 
building,  consisting  of  successive  colon- 


nades, placed  one  over  the  other,  somewhat 
resembling  the  coliseum  at  Rome,  and 
involving  a  new  and  ingenious  method  of 
joining.  A  plan  was  also  proposed,  by 
Mr.  J.  W.  Adams,  consisting  of  a  great 
octagonal  vault  or  dome,  supported  by  ribs 
made  of  fasces  or  clusters  of  gas-pipe. 
The  presentation  of  so  many  plans,  each 
of  a  different  character,  and  some  of  them 
of  great  beauty  and  originality,  made  the 
task  of  selection  very  difficult.  Finally, 
after  much  consultation,  the  plan  accepted 
was  that  of  Messrs.  Carstensen  and  Gilde- 
meister,  of  New  York,  the  latter  gentle- 
man being  recently  from  Copenhagen, 
where  he  was  well-known  as  the  designer 
of  some  of  the  principal  public  works  in 


that  city.  After  the  final  adoption  of  a 
plan,  which  was  in  August,  1852,  no  time 
was  lost  in  putting  the  work  under  way. 
The  piece  of  ground  for  the  erection  of  the 
building,  in  Reservoir  Square,  granted  by 
the  city,  was  somewhat  unfavorable  for 
architectural  purposes;  but  in  other  re- 
spects it  was  quite  favorable,  and  the 
structure,  when  completed,  was  a  magnifi- 
cent spectacle,  its  main  features  being  as 
follows : 

With  the  exception  of  the  floor,  the 
whole  of  this  splendid  palace  was  con- 
structed of  iron  and  glass.  The  general 
idea  of  the  edifice  was  a  Greek  cross,  sur- 
mounted by  a  dome  at  the  intersection, 
each  diameter  of  the  cross  being  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  and  five  inches 
long.  There  were  three  similar  entrances, 
each  forty-seven  feet  wide,  and  approached 
by  flights  of  steps.  Over  each  front  was 
a  large  semi-circular  fan-light,  forty-one 
feet  wide  and  twenty-one  feet  high,  an- 
swering to  the  arch  of  the  nave.  Each 
arm  of  the  cross  was  on  the  ground  plan 
one  hundred  and  forty-nine  feet  broad. 
This  was  divided  into  a  central  nave  and 
two  aisles,  on  each  side,  the  nave  forty-one, 
and  each  aisle  fifty-four  feet  wide.  The 
central  portion,  or  nave,  was  carried  up  to 
the  height  of  sixty-seven  feet,  and  the 
semi-circular  arch  which  spanned  it  was 
forty-one  feet  broad.  There  were  thus,  in 
effect,  two  arched  naves  crossing  each 
other  at  right  angles,  forty-one  feet  broad, 
sixty-seven  feet  high  to  the  crown  of  the 
arch,  and  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet 
long ;  and,  on  each  side  of  these  naves,  an 
aisle  fifty-four  feet  broad  and  forty-five 
feet  high.  The  exterior  of  the  ridgeway 
of  the  nave  was  seventy-one  feet.  Each 
aisle  was  covered  by  a  gallery  of  its  own 
width,  and  twenty-four  feet  from  the  floor. 
The  central  dome  was  one  hundred  feet  in 
diameter,  sixty-eight  feet  in?;de  from  the 
floor  to  the  spring  of  the  arch,  one  hun- 
dred and  eighteen  feet  to  the  crown,  and, 
on  the  outside,  with  the  lantern,  one  hun- 
dred and  forty-nine  feet.  The  exterior 
angles  of  the  building  were  ingeniously 
filled  up  with  a  triangular  lean-to,  twenty- 


424 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


four  feet  high,  which  gave  the  ground  plan 
an  octagonal  shape,  each  side  or  face  being 
one  hundred  and  forty-nine  feet  wide.  At 
each  angle  was  an  octagonal  tower,  eight 
feet  in  diameter  and  seventy-five  feet 
high. 

Ten  large,  and  eight  winding  staircases, 
connected  the  principal  floor  with  the  gal- 
lery, which  opened  on  the  three  balconies 
situated  over  the  entrance  halls,  affording 
ample  space  for  flower  decorations,  statues, 
vases,  etc.  The  building  contained,  on  the 
ground  floor,  one  hundred  and  eleven 
thousand  square  feet  of  space,  and  in  its 
galleries,  of  fifty-four  feet  width,  sixty-two 
thousand  square  feet  more,  making  a  total 
area  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-three 
thousand  square  feet,  for  the  purposes  of 
exhibition  ;  being  a  total,  within  an  incon- 
siderable fraction,  of  four  acres. 

There  were  on  the  ground  floor  of  this 
wonderful  structure,  one  hundred  and 
ninety  octagonal  cast-iron  columns,  twenty- 
one  feet  above  the  floor,  and  eight  inches 
diameter,  cast  hollow,  of  different  thick- 
nesses, from  half  an  inch  to  one  inch. 
These  columns  received  the  cast-iron  gird- 
ers, the  latter  being  twenty-six  feet  long 
and  three  feet  high,  and  served  to  sustain 
the  galleries  and  the  wrought-iron  con- 
struction of  the  roof,  as  well  as  to  brace 
the  whole  structure  in  every  direction. 
The  girders,  as  well  as  the  second-story 
columns,  were  fastened  to  the  columns  in 
the  first  story,  by  connecting  pieces  of  the 
same  octagonal  shape  as  the  columns,  three 
feet  four  inches  high.  The  number  of 
lower  floor  girders  was  two  hundred  and 
fifty-two,  besides  twelve  wrought  -  iron 
girders  of  the  same  height,  and  forty-one 
feet  span  over  a  part  of  the  nave.  The 
second  story  contained  one  hundred  and 
forty-eight  columns,  of  the  same  shape  as 
those  below,  and  seventeen  feet  seven 
inches  high.  These  received  another  tier 
of  girders,  numbering  one  hundred  and 
sixty,  for  the  support  of  the  roofs  of  the 
aisles. 

The  dome,  noble  and  beautiful  in  its 
proportions,  constituted  the  chief  architect- 
ural feature  of  the  building.  Its  diame- 


ter, one  hundred  feet,  and  its  height — 
nearly  seventy  feet  to  the  springing  line, 
and  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  to  the 
crown  of  the  arch — made  it  the  largest, 
and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  the  only 
scientifically  constructed  dome  in  the 
United  States  ;  a  dome  of  oriental  charac- 
teristics, in  its  light  and  graceful  beauty, 
— seemingly  borne  in  upon  a  zephyr,  and 
capable  of  being  lifted  away  by  a  breath, 
— floating  over  the  whole  structure,  pure 
and  fascinating,  like  an  aerial  grace. 

Twenty- four  columns  supported  the 
dome,  the  columns  rising  to  the  second 
story,  and  to  a  height  of  sixty-two  feet 
above  the  principal  floor.  The  system  of 
wrought-iron  trusses  which  connected  them 
together,  and  was  supported  by  them, 
formed  two  eccentric  polygons,  each  of 
sixteen  sides;  these  received  a  cast-iron 
bed-plate,  to  which  the  cast-iron  shoes  for 
the  ribs  of  the  dome  were  bolted,  the  latter 
being  constructed  of  two  curves  of  double 
angle-iron,  securely  connected  together  by 
trellis-work,  the  requisite  steadiness  being 
secured  by  tie-rods,  which  braced  them 
both  vertically  and  horizontally.  At  the 
top,  the  ribs  were  bolted  to  a  horizontal 
ring  of  wrought  and  cast  iron,  having  a 
diameter  of  twenty  feet  in  clear,  and  sur- 
mounted by  the  lantern.  As  in  the  other 
roofs  of  the  building,  the  dome  was  cased 
with  matched  deal  and  tin  sheathing,  light 
being  communicated  to  the  interior 
through  the  lantern,  and  also  in  part  from 
the  sides,  pierced  for  thirty-two  orna- 
mental windows,  these  being  glazed  with 
stained  glass  one-eighth  of  an  inch  thick, 
and  representing  the  arms  of  the  Union 
and  of  its  several  States, — a  feature  which 
formed  no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  inte- 
rior decoration,  and  won  the  admiration  of 
every  beholder,  foreign  as  well  as  Ameri- 
can. 

The  enamel,  with  which  the  whole  of  the 
glass  used  in  the  structure  was  covered, 
was  laid  upon  the  glass  with  a  brush,  and, 
after  drying,  subjected  to  the  intense  heat 
of  a  kiln,  by  which  the  coating  became  vit- 
rified, and  as  durable  as  the  glass  itself ; 
the  effect  produced  being  similar  to  that 


WORLD'S  FAIK  IN  NEW  YORK. 


425 


of  ground  glass,  translucent  but  not  trans- 
parent, the  sun's  rays,  diffused  by  passing 
through  it,  yielding  an  agreeable  light, — 
deprived  of  that  intensity  of  heat  and 
glare  which  is  so  peculiar  to  them  in  this 
"'climate.  In  the  absence  of  a  similar  pre- 


caution  in  the  London  crystal  palace, 
whose  roofs,  as  well  as  walls,  were  inclosed 
with  transparent  glass,  it  was  found  nec- 
essary to  cover  the  interior  of  the  building 
with  canvas,  to  produce  the  required 
shade.  The  external  walls  of  the  New 


York  building  were  of  cast-iron  framing 
and  panel-work,  into  which  were  inserted 
the  sashes  of  the  windows  and  the  louvers 
for  ventilation. 

But  the  rapid  and  unexpected  increase 
of  applications  for  space  by  exhibitors,  led 
to  the  erection  of  a  large  addition  to  the 
structure  thus  described.  It  consisted 
of  two  parts,  of  one  and  two  stories  re- 
spectively, and  occupied  the  entire 
ground  between  the  main  building  and 
the  reservoir ;  its  length,  four  hundred 
and  fifty-one  feet,  and  its  extreme  width 
seventy-five  feet.  It  was  designed  for 
the  reception  of  machinery  in  motion, 
the  cabinets  of  mining  and  mineralogy, 
and  the  refreshment  rooms,  with  their 
necessary  offices.  The  second  story, 
nearly  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long 
and  twenty-one  wide,  and  extending  the 
whole  length,  was  entirely  devoted  to 
the  exhibition  of  pictures  and  statuary. 
In  the  work  of  decorating  the  build- 
ing, the  leading  idea  was  to  bring  out  to 
advantage  the  beautiful  architectural 
character  of  the  edifice  itself — to  decor- 
ate construction,  rather  than  to  con- 
struct decoration.  The  result  proved 
surprisingly  attractive.  The  colors  em- 
ployed  on  the  exterior  were  mixed  in 
oil,  the  base  being  white  lead.  The 
outside  presented  the  appearance  of  a 
building  of  a  light-colored  bronze,  of 
which  all  features  purely  ornamental 
were  of  gold.  The  inside  had  a  prevail- 
ing tone  of  buff,  or  rich  cream  color, 
which  was  given  to  all  the  cast-iron 
constructive  work.  This  color  was  re- 
lieved by  a  moderate  and  judicious  use 
of  the  three  positive  colors,  red,  blue, 
and  yellow,  in  their  several  tints  of  ver- 
milion, garnet,  sky-blue,  and  orange — 
certain  parts  of  the  ornamental  work 
being  gilt — to  accord  with  the  arrange- 
ment of  colors  employed  in  the  decora- 
tion of  the  ceilings.  The  only  exceptions 
to  the  use  of  oil  colors  were  the  ceiling  of 
the  lean-to  and  the  dome,  these  being  exe- 
cuted on  canvas. 

The  effect  of  the  interior  of  the  dome 
was  particularly  splendid.     The  rays  from 


426 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


a  golden  sun,  at  the  center,  descended 
between  tlie  latticed  ribs,  and  arabesques 
of  white  and  blue,  relieved  by  stars,  sur- 
rounded the  openings,  the  effect  of  tb.3 
whole  being  very  fine.  This  splendid 
appearance  by  day  was  even  excelled  by  the 
gorgeous  illumination  of  the  structure  at 
night,  produced  by  countless  gas-burners. 

In  the  construction  of  this  vast  and 
splendid  palace  of  industry,  the  whole 
quantity  of  iron  employed  amounted  to 
one  thousand  eight  hundred  tons,  of  which 
three  hundred  tons  were  wrought  and 
fifteen  hundred  tons  cast  iron ;  the  quan- 
tity of  glass  used,  fifteen  thousand  panes, 
or  fifty-five  thousand  square  feet ;  and  the 
quantity  of  wood  amounted  to  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  feet,  board  meas- 
ure. The  general  mode  of  erection  by 
base  pieces,  columns,  connecting  pieces 
and  girders,  was  the  same  with  that  of  the 
great  London  palace ;  but  the  construction 
of  the  arched  nave,  and  of  the  dome,  was  of 
course  entirely  peculiar,  and  the  general 
effect  of  the  structure  completely  different. 
The  London  building  was  regarded  as  defi- 
cient in  architectural  effect.  The  form  of 
the  New  York  edifice  furnished  scope  for 
a  pleasing  variety  of  embellishments,  by 
which  all  monotony  was  avoided. 

Exclusive  of  the  naves,  the  total  amount 
of  space  on  the  floor,  occupied  by  different 
countries  for  exhibition,  was  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty-two  thousand  square  feet, 
of  which  a  little  more  than  ninety-four 
thousand  was  on  the  ground  floor.  The 
total  amount  of  space  occupied  by  foreign 
exhibitors  was  nearly  one  hundred  thou- 
sand square  feet;  and  the  total  number  of 
this  class  of  exhibitors  was  nearly  three 
thousand.  In  the  United  States  depart- 
ment, the  number  of  exhibitors  was  not 
far  from  two  thousand,  the  largest  propor- 
tion of  whom  were  included  under  the  fol- 
lowing classes:  mineralogy,  metallurgy, 
and  mining ;  machinery  and  tools ;  agri- 
cultural implements  ;  hardware  ;  and  the 
fine  arts. 

The  details  of  the  exhibition,  with  the 
collecting  and  arranging  of  the  various 
departments,  was  intrusted  to  the  follow- 


ing gentlemen :  General  superintendents, 
Captains  Dupont  and  Davis ;  arrangement 
of  space  and  classification,  Samuel  Web- 
ber ;  department  of  mineralogy  and  chem- 
istry, Professor  B.  Silliman,  Jr.  ;  director 
of  machinery,  J.  E.  Holmes;  director  of 
agricultural  implements,  B.  P.  Johnson ; 
director  of  sculpture,  Felix  Piatti ;  director 
of  textile  fabrics,  Edward  Vincent ; — these 
having  the  co-operation  of  a  large  corps  of 
assistants,  experienced  in  the  various  spe- 
cialties named. 

It  was  the  intention  of  the  officers  of 
the  association,  that  the  building  should 
be  finished  and  the  exhibition  opened  to 
the  public  by  the  first  day  of  May,  1853. 
But  many  unlooked-for  delays  intervened, 
and  the  opening  was  necessarily  deferred 
until  the  fourteenth  of  July,  on  which  day 
the  palace  was  formally  inaugurated  with 
appropriate  services.  On  a  platform  were 
assembled  the  officers  of  the  association, 
and  many  of  the  distinguished  men  of 
Europe  and  America,  including  His  Excel- 
lency, Hon.  Franklin  Pierce,  president  of 
the  United  States,  and  members  of  his  cab- 
inet. The  devotional  exercises,  on  open- 
ing the  exhibition,  were  led  by  Bishop 
Wainwright;  and  then  a  choral,  written 
for  the  occasion,  and  commencing  with  the 
line,  "  Here,  where  all  climes  their  offer- 
ings send,"  was  sung  to  the  tune  of  Old 
Hundred.  Mr.  Sedgwick,  the  president 
of  the  association,  then  pronounced,  an 
address,  stating  the  objects  and  prospects 
of  the  exhibition,  and  was  followed  by  the 
president  of  the  United  States,  in  a  brief 
and  appropriate  congratulatory  speech,  in 
which  he  bespoke  for  the  great  national 
enterprise  the  cordial  patronage  of  all 
classes  and  sections,  and  characterized  it 
as  an  event  fitly  reflecting  the  progress, 
power,  and  glory  of  the  republic.  After 
this,  the  organ  poured  through  the  aisles 
the  sublime  music  of  Handel's  "  Hallelu- 
jah Chorus,"— and  the  palace  of  glass,  with 
its  myriad  forms  of  wonder  and  beauty, 
and  its  mighty  lesson  of  civilization,  was  a 
completed  fact.  The  tide  of  humanity 
that  flowed  into  the  palace,  from  day  to 
day,  was  constant  and  prodigious. 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


427 


Such  a  magnificent  display  of  the  prod- 
ucts of  human  ingenuity  and  skill  had 
never  before  been  witnessed  in  the  west- 
ern world.  Not  only  did  America  present 
its  choicest  elaborations  of  industry,  in 
almost  infinite  variety,  but  climes  and 
countries  to  the  furthermost  quarters  of 
the  globe  were  there  represented  in  count- 
less contributions  of  the  useful  and  the 
beautiful.  England  and  France  made 
vast  and  superb  offerings  to  the  great 
transatlantic  bazaar,  and  their  example 
was  followed  by  the  other  continental 
nations.  Scandinavia,  Norway,  Sweden, 
and  the  German  Zollverein,  poured  forth 
the  selectest  contents  of  their  mines, 
manufactories,  workshops,  and  studios. 
Among  the  former  were  iron  ore,  steel, 
wrought  iron  for  gun-barrels,  stearin  can- 
dles, nickel,  cobalt,  copper,  geological  speci- 
mens, snow-shoes,  reindeer  antlers,  a  musi- 
cal instrument  called  the  psalmodicon, 
wood  carvings  by  Norwegian  peasants, 
and  for  which  they  are  celebrated.  From 
the  Zollverein  States,  there  was  an  attract- 
ive variety  of  objects,  the  most  interesting 
of  which  were  the  works  of  art,  principally 
paintings.  The  first  artists  of  modern 
Germany  contributed  to  this  part  of  the 
collection,  and  in  such  quantity  as  far  sur- 
passed general  expectation.  The  names 
of  eminence  which  appeared  in  this  con- 
nection, were  those  of  Huebner,  Achen- 
bach,  Muller,  Elsasser,  Openheimer,  and 
from  Vienna,  Waldmuller  and  Swobada. 

Conspicuous  also  among  the  foreign 
attractions,  was  the  celebrated  picture  con- 
tributed by  Queen  Victoria,  representing 
the  duke  of  Wellington  presenting  a  birth- 
day gift  to  the  infant  Prince  Arthur,  the 
youngest  member  of  the  royal  family. 
This  picture  was  painted  by  Winterhalter, 
at  the  queen's  express  desire  ;  as  a  work  of 
art  alone  it  secured  great  attention,  and 
was  deservedly  extolled  by  all  lovers  of 
beauty  and  perfection.  But  the  fact  of  its 
being  the  queen's  most  valued  and  pet 
picture,  and  forwarded,  in  her  own  name, 
as  a  tribute  of  recognition  to  America's 
great  exhibition,  heightened  the  interest 
with  which  it  was  viewed. 


The  splendid  colossal  group  of  Christ 
and  his  apostles,  by  Thorwaldsen — one  of 
the  masterpieces  of  sculpture — was  the 
theme  of  much  praise,  drawing  crowds  of 
admirers  daily.  The  same  also  may  be 
said  of  that  matchless  piece  of  art,  Kiss's 
"  Amazon,"  a  copy  from  the  original  work 
in  bronze,  erected  near  the  museum  in 
Berlin.  Next  to  the  fine  equestrian  statue 
of  Washington,  this  of  the  Amazon  was 
considered  the  boldest  and  most  striking 
piece  of  statuary  exhibited.  But  some  of 
the  most  beautiful  contributions,  in  the 
department  of  fine  arts,  were  to  be  found 
among  those  which,  in  point  of  size,  were 
comparatively  diminutive.  The  veiled 
statues,  for  example,  seemed  almost'  like 
angelic  creations.  The  cast-iron  statuettes 
from  the  royal  iron  foundry  at  Vienna, 
were  also  beautiful ;  each  stood  on  an  ara- 
besque pedestal,  and  was  about  twelve 
inches  in  height,  of  a  dead  black  color, 
nearly  resembling  ebony,  and  of  the  most 
exquisite  quality  of  casting. 

More  grand  and  impressive  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  Italian  department,  was 
the  statue  of  Columbus,  in  the  purest 
marble,  his  left  hand  resting  upon  a  ter- 
restrial globe,  to  which  the  right  pointed. 
This  superb  statue  was  of  life  size,  and 
from  the  chisel  of  Del  Medico,  of  Carrari. 

An  admirable  little  group,  which  riveted 
the  attention  of  every  observer,  was  the 
Cage  of  Cupids,  all  in  marble, — a  bevy  of 
the  little  creatures,  represented  as  tired  of 
their  confinement  and  striving  to  escape ; 
this  happy  and  unique  conception  was 
executed  in  a  style  of  workmanship  that 
may  well  be  termed  marvelous. 

Most  amusing,  to  old  and  young,  was 
the  plastic  model  of  Gulliver  in  Lilliput, 
made  by  A.  Fleischmann,  in  Sonneberg, 
Saxony.  From  the  opening  to  the  close 
of  the  exhibition,  there  was  a  constant 
crowd  of  visitors  around  this  admirably 
executed  work.  Quite  different  in  char- 
acter and  in  the  kind  of  interest  which  it 
inspired,  was  the  collection  of  ancient 
armor  sent  by  the  English  government 
from  the  tower  of  London,  and  which  com- 
prised a  helmet  worn  in  Henry  the 


428 


WORLD'S  FAIR  IN  NEW  YORK. 


Eighth's  time,  or  about  the  year  1520 ;  an 
ancient  shield  of  the  time  of  King  Edward 
IV.,  in  1547 ;  a  helmet  of  the  time  of 
Queen  Elizabeth,  about  1560,  and  a  pike- 
man's  lance,  eighteen  feet  long,  of  the 
same  period;  a  heavy  breast-plate,  one- 
quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  bearing  date 
1685;  also,  some  very  interesting  speci- 
mens of  ancient  muskets,  one  of  which,  a 
flint  lock  with  a  plug  baj'onet,  was  used 
during  the  reign  of  King  James  the  Sec- 
ond, in  1686. 

From  France  came  the  rarest  and  most 
delicate  tapestries  and  porcelains,  includ- 
ing some  of  the  celebrated  Gobelin  carpets, 
sent  expressly  by  the  French  government. 
These  carpets  are  remarkable  for  smooth- 
ness, softness,  and  fineness  of  texture,  as 
well  as  for  their  strength  and  evenness, 
excelling  even  the  Persian  in  these  re- 
spects, and  the  colors  and  designs  are  per- 
fect. Some  of  these  carpets  require  from 
five  to  ten  years  for  their  completion,  and 
at  a  cost  of  ten  thousand  to  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars.  None  are  sold,  being  exclu- 
sively of  government  manufacture  and 
use.  The  largest  ever  made  was  more 
than  one  thousand  three  hundred  feet. 
Among  other  exquisite  pieces  sent  to  the 
exhibition,  was  the  "Subject  taken  from 
the  Chase  and  Still  Life,"  and  pronounced 
to  excel  in  the  softness,  delicacy,  and  bril- 
liancy, with  which  all  the  minute  traits  of 
both  animal  and  vegetable  life  are  rendered 
in  this  wonderful  species  of  manufacture. 

But  no  details  possible  within  the  com- 
pass of  a  few  pages  merely,  would  do  jus- 
tice to  the  vast  and  varied  contents  of  this 


World's  Fair,  with  its  four  acres  of  richly 
teeming  surface,  from  nearly  five  thousand 
contributors ;  nor,  indeed,  has  any  attempt 
been  here  made  to  describe  those  more 
practical  and  extensive  features  of  the 
exhibition, — those  grand  industries,  cover^ 
ing  so  wide  and  important  a  range  in  the 
elements  and  activities  of  modern  civiliza- 
tion,— which  constituted  the  chief  scope 
and  lesson  of  the  undertaking.  Of  this 
numerous  class  are  those  ingenious  and 
useful  inventions  pertaining  to  the  various 
processes  of  agriculture,  mines  and  their 
products  ;  machinery  for  constructive,  mo- 
tive, and  manufacturing  purposes ;  etc.,  etc. 
For  several  months,  the  palace  was  open 
to  the  public,  according  to  its  original 
plan,  and  subsequently  it  was  decided  to 
make  the  building  and  its  attractions  per- 
manent, the  occasion  being  celebrated  by 
public  ceremonies  appropriate  to  the  event. 
Among  the  speakers  was  Elihu  Burritt, 
who,  in  the  course  of  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant of  speeches,  said :  "  Worthy  of  the 
grandest  circumstances  which  could  be 
thrown  around  a  human  assembly,  worthy 
of  this  occasion  and  a  hundred  like  this,  is 
that  beautiful  idea — the  CORONATION  OF 
LABOR.  Not  American  labor,  not  Brit- 
ish labor,  not  French  labor,  not  the  labor 
of  the  New  World  or  the  Old,  but  the 
labor  of  mankind  as  one  undivided  broth- 
erhood— Labor,  as  the  oldest,  the  noblest, 
prerogative  of  duty  and  humanity."  Most 
unfortunately,  this  beautiful  palace,  so 
wonderful  in  its  construction,  and  such  an 
ornament  to  the  chief  city  of  America,  was 
totally  destroyed  by  fire,  in  October,  1858. 


LIII. 

LOSS    OF    THE    SPLENDID  COLLINS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC, 

OF  NEW  YORK,  BY  COLLISION  WITH  THE  IRON 

STEAMER  VESTA.— 1854. 


Occurrence  of  the  Disaster  in  Mid-Ocean,  at  Noonday,  in  a  Dense  Fog.— Sinking  of  the  Noble  Ship 
Stern  Foremost. — Hundreds  of  Souls  Engulfed  in  a  Watery  Grave. — Experiences  Crowded  into  That 
Awful  Hour. — The  Wail  of  Agony  and  Despair  from  the  Fated  Throng. — Bet  Non-Arrival,  Painful 
Suspense. — The  Dreadful  News  at  Last. — Shock  to  the  Public  Mind. — Strong  Build  of  the  Arctic. — 
Prestige  of  the  Collins  Line. — A  Casualty  Undreamed  Of. — Surging  Crowd  in  Wall  Street. — Names 
of  Lost  and  Saved  Read. — Hope,  Joy,  Grief,  Anguish. — The  Sad  Tale  on  all  Lips. — Captain  Luce  in 
the  Hour  of  Woe. — Manliness  of  His  First  Order. — Ship  Deserted  by  the  Crew. — "  Every  Man  for 
Himself." — A  Raft  Constructed,  but  in  Vain. — Courage  of  the  Women. — Not  One  of  Their  Sex 
Saved. — Instances  of  Cool  Bravery. — An  Engineer's  Heroic  Fidelity. — £30,000  for  a  Chance  in  a 
Boat. — Pleasure  Tourists  on  Board. — All  of  Mr.  Collins's  Family  Lost. 


"The  fate  of  the  ihlp  ehall  be  mine."— CAPTAIN  LUCE.  COMMANDER  OF  THE  ABOTIO 


iEAVING  Liverpool,  England,  on  the  twentieth  of  September,  1854, 
the  magnificent  steamer  Arctic,  of  the  Collins  line,  plying  between  that  city  and  New 
York,  was,  on  the  seventh  day  out,  at  noon,  while  running  in  a  fog,  totally  engulfed, 


430 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


with  hundreds  of  souls,  millions  of  treas-  | 
ure,  and  a  heavy  mail  of  incalculable  value, 
in  consequence  of  collision  with  the  French 
iron  screw-steamer  Vesta.  The  Arctic 
was  commanded  by  Captain  Luce;  the 
Vesta,  by  Captain  Duchesne. 

For  many  a  long  day  after  the  time 
when  this  superb  vessel  was  due  at  New 
York,  the  public  mind  was  in  agonizing 
suspense  as  to  her  fate.  From  the  well- 
known  immense  strength  and  complete 
equipment  of  the  Arctic,  this  was  the  only 
sort  of  casualty  likely  to  be  serious  to  her, 
and  this  does  not  appear  to  have  been 
anticipated  by  even  the  most  sagacious 
sea-faring  man.  In  every  respect,  the 
success  of  the  Collins  line  reflected  the 
highest  honor  upon  American  nautical 
enterprise  and  skill. 

The  news  of  this  lamentable  catastrophe 
carried  deep  and  heart-rending  sorrow  to 
the  homes  of  thousands  both  in  this  coun- 
try and  in  Europe.  On  the  news  reaching 
New  York,  October  14th,  that  city  as- 
sumed the  appearance  of  one  great  funeral. 
The  flags  waved  at  half-mast  throughout 
the  metropolis,  upon  all  the  public  build- 
ings and  hotels,  as  also  upon  the  shipping 
in  the  harbor.  The  office  of  Mr.  E.  K. 
Collins,  the  founder  and  proprietor  of  this 
splendid  line  of  steamships,  was  crowded 
with  anxious  visitors  from  early  in  the 
morning  until  the  place  was  closed  in  the 
afternoon.  All  who  wished  to  hear  of  rel- 
atives or  friends  called  there,  as  the  most 
likely  place  to  learn  the  fate  of  those  for 
whom  they  hoped  even  against  hope.  It 
was  a  sad  gathering  of  grief-stricken  citi- 
zens, among  whom  were  fathers,  brothers, 
and  sons,  tremulously  waiting  for  intelli- 
gence which  would  either  give  the  death- 
blow to  all  hope  itself,  or  give  back  again 
all  the  buoyancy  of  life  by  the  promised 
restoration  of  the  lost.  Often  during  the 
day  was  heard  the  inquiry  put  to  the 
attendants  in  the  counting-room  of  Mr. 
Collins,  'Have  you  any  news  of  my 
brother  ? '  'Do  you  think  my  son  is 
safe  ?  '  '  Have  you  seen  any  of  the  pas- 
sengers who  could  probably  tell  me  of  the 
affair,  and  give  me  intelligence  of  my 


father  ?  '  Many,  too,  with  tears  in  their 
eyes,  grasped  the  hands  of  friends,  and 
the  questions  were  exchanged,  '  Who  of 
your  friends  were  on  board  ? '  and  '  Who 
of  yours  ?  '  It  seemed  as  if  everybody  had 
either  relations  or  acquaintances  on  board 
the  sad-fated  vessel.  As  each  report  came 
in  of  the  passengers  heard  from  as  safe,  it 
was  a  picture  full  of  interest  to  see  the 
eagerness  with  which  all  turned  their  ears 
to  hear  the  report  read,  and  the  faces 
lighten  up  with  gladness  as  the  wished-for 
name  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  reader. 

Some,  upon  receiving  information  of  a 
rescue  of  the  supposed  lost,  were  at  once 
engaged  in  receiving  the  congratulations 
of  those  about  them  ;  others  turned  around 
to  offer  condolence  and  mingle  sympathy 
with  the  rest,  for  whom  had  come  no 
happy  tidings ;  and  others,  again,  rushed 
in  haste  from  the  building  to  circulate  the 
report  among  friends  outside,  or  to  convey 
it  to  mourning  families  at  home.  Wher- 
ever this  intelligence  came,  it  was  like  the 
news  of  a  resurrection  from  the  dead. 
Notwithstanding  in  all  hope  flickered 
dimly,  yet  the  catastrophe  was  so  appall- 
ing, and  the  chances  of  a  rescue  so  few, 
that  each  was  filled  with  the  greatest  fear, 
and  all  were  alike  prepared  for  the  worst, 
though  continually  hoping  for  the  best. 

Not  only  in  the  office  of  the  Ocean  Steam 
Company,  but  in  all  places,  were  the  same 
evidences  apparent,  that  some  heavy  blow 
had  fallen  upon  the  heart,  and,  crushing 
out  what  was  happy  and  peaceful,  had 
placed  the  burden  of  sorrow  there.  At  all 
frequented  corners,  along  the  streets,  at 
store  doors,  in  banking-houses,  groups 
were  assembled,  each  with  the  other  can- 
vassing the  chances  of  safety  for  some 
friend,  or  recapitulating  the  calamitous 
story  of  the  shipwreck.  All  business  in 
Wall  street  was  for  a  time  stopped ;  and 
merchants  and  bankers,  forgetting  the  rise 
of  stocks  and  the  fluctuations  of  trade,  by 
'one  touch  of  nature '  were  brought  together 
as  participants  in  the  general  grief.  The 
Exchange  was  crowded  during  the  day,  but 
the  loss  of  the  Arctic  was  the  sole  en- 
grossing topic. 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


431 


At  the  time  of  the  collision,  Captain 
Luce  was  below,  working  out  the  position 
of  the  steamer.  He  immediately  ran  on 
deck  and  saw  the  iron  steamer  under  the 
starboard  bow,  and  passing  astern,  grazing 
and  tearing  the  guards  in  her  progress. 
The  bows  of  the  strange  vessel  seemed  to 
be  literally  cut  or  crushed  off  for  ten  feet, 
and  seeing  that  she  must  probably  sink  in 
ten  minutes,  Captain  Luce  took  a  glance 
at  his  own  ship,  and  believing  her  to  be 
comparatively  uninjured,  the  boats  were 
cleared  and  the  first  officer  and  six  men 
left  with  a  boat  to  board  the  stranger  and 
ascertain  the  extent  of  her  damage.  The 
engineers  were  immediately  instructed  to 
put  on  the  steam  pumps,  and  the  four  deck 
pumps  were  worked  by  the  passengers  and 
crew.  The  ship  was  at  once  headed  for 
the  land,  and  several  ineffectual  attempts 
were  made  to  stop  the  leak  by  getting  sails 
over  the  bows.  Finding  that  the  leak  was 
gaining  very  fast,  notwithstanding  the 
very  powerful  efforts  made  to  keep  the 
ship  free,  Captain  Luce  resolved  to  get  the 
boats  ready,  and  have  as  many  ladies  and 
children  in  them  as  possible. 

No  sooner,  however,  had  an  attempt 
been  made  to  do  this,  than  the  firemen  and 
others  rushed  into  the  boats  in  spite  of  all 
opposition.  Seeing  this  state  of  things, 
the  captain  ordered  the  boats  astern  to  be 
kept  in  readiness  until  order  could  be 
restored,  when,  to  his  dismay,  he  saw 
them  cut  the  rope  in  the  bow,  and  soon 
disappear  astern  in  the  fog.  Another 
boat  was  broken  down  by  persons  rushing 
in  at  the  davits,  and  many  were  precipi- 
tated into  the  sea  and  drowned.  This 
occurred  while  the  captain  had  been  en- 
gaged in  getting  the  starboard  guard-boat 
ready.  He  had  placed  the  second  officer 
in  charge,  when  the  same  scene  was 
enacted  as  with  the  first  boat.  He  then 
gave  orders  to  the  second  officer  to  let  go 
and  tow  after  the  ship,  keeping  near  the 
stern,  to  be  ready  to  take  the  women  and 
children  as  soon  as  the  fires  were  out  and 
the  engine  should  stop.  The  quarter-boat 
was  found  broken  down,  but  hanging  by 
one  tackle ;  a  rush  was  made  for  her  also, 


some  fifteen  getting  m,  and,  cutting  tho 
tackle,  were  soon  out  of  sight.  Not  a  sea- 
man was  now  left  on  board,  nor  a  carpen- 
ter,— there  were  no  tools  to  assist  in  build- 
ing a  raft  as  the  only  hope, — and  the  only 
officer  left  was  Mr.  Dorian,  the  third  mate, 
who  worked  nobly  for  the  success  of  all. 

To  form  a  raft,  it  became  necessary  to 
get  the  only  remaining  boat — a  life-boat — 
into  the  water.  This  being  accomplished, 
Mr.  Dorian,  the  chief  officer  of  the  boat, 
taking  care  to  keep  the  oars  on  board  the 
steamer  to  prevent  those  in  the  boat  from 
leaving  the  ship,  proceeded  to  work,  still 
hoping  to  be  able  to  get  the  women  and 
children  on  board  his  boat  at  last.  They 
had  made  considerable  progress  in  collect- 
ing spars,  when  the  alarm  was  given  that 
the  ship  was  sinking,  and  the  boat  was 
shoved  off  without  oars  or  anything  to 
hold  themselves. 

In  an  instant  after,  at  about  a  quarter- 
past  five,  P.  M.,  the  ship  went  down,  car- 
rying every  soul  on  board  with  her. 

Captain  Luce  soon  found  himself  on  the 
surface,  after  a  brief  struggle,  with  his 
fragile  child  in  his  arms ;  then  again 
found  himself  impelled  downward  to  a 
great  depth,,  and,  before  reaching  the  sur- 
face a  second  time,  had  nearly  perished, 
losing  the  hold  of  his  child  as  he  struggled 
upwards.  On  thus  getting  upon  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  once  more,  the  most 
awful  and  heart-rending  scene  presented 
itself — over  two  hundred  men,  women,  and 
children  were  struggling  together,  amid 
pieces  of  the  wreck,  calling  upon  each 
other  for  help,  and  imploring  God  to  assist 
them !  Amid  this  struggling  mass  of 
human  beings,  he  discovered  his  child,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  trying  to  save  him,  when 
a  portion  of  the  paddle-box  came  rushing 
up  edgewards,  just  grazing  the  captain's 
head  and  falling  with  its  whole  weight 
upon  the  head  of  the  helpless  child.  Cap- 
tain Luce  then  succeeded  in  getting  on  the 
top  of  the  paddle-box  in  company  with 
eleven  others ;  one,  however,  soon  left  for 
another  piece,  and  others  remained  until 
relieved  by  death.  Those  who  were  left, 
stood  in  water  up  to  their  knees,  the  sea 


432 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


frequently  breaking  over  them;  and  the 
suffering  party  were  soon  reduced  by  death 
to  Captain  Luce  and  one  other,  who,  after 
an  exposure  of  forty-six  hours,  were  rescued 
by  the  ship  Cambria,  Captain  Russell, 
bound  to  Quebec. 

Mr.  Dorian,  the  energetic  and  faithful 
officer  named  above,  asserted,  in  his  ac- 
count of  the  disaster,  that  if  all  the  officers 
and  men  had  remained  by  the  ship,  all,  or 
nearly  all,  of  the  passengers,  would  have 
been  saved ;  that,  with  the  masts,  spars, 
and  the  cutting  off  of  the  hurricane  deck, 
a  raft  could  have  been  formed  capable  of 
carrying  the  whole  of  them.  He  further 
states  that  among  the  passengers  on  board 
the  Arctic  he  never  saw  men  more  coolly 
courageous,  and  that  their  quiet  resigna- 
tion and  implicit  confidence  in.  the  captain 
and  officers  of  the  ship  were  such  as  it  was 
impossible  to  surpass.  A  particular  illus- 
tration of  this,  was  the  fidelity  exhibited 
by  a  young  gentleman  named  Holland, 
of  Washington,  who  was  on  board  the 
steamer  for  the  purpose  of  gaining  instruc- 
tion in  engineering.  He  had  been  deputed 
by  the  captain  to  fire  the  signal  gun — 
when  all  others  had  fled, — and,  amid  the 
melancholy  wail,  he  pursued  his  duty. 
When  all  hope  had  fled,  and  the  vessel 
was  nearly  level  with  the  sea,  Holland  was 
seen  busy  with  the  gun.  His  last  shot 
,  boomed  out  as  the  Arctic  sank,  and  he 
went  down  with  her — persevering  in  the 
strict  performance  of  his  duty. 

In  the  construction  of  the  raft,  the  two 
foreyard  arms  were  cut  down  and  lashed 
together,  making  the  raft  about  forty  feet 
long  and  three  or  four  feet  wide.  On 
being  finished,  it  was  launched  on  the  lar- 
board side,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after 
there  were  about  seventy  persons  clinging 
to  it,  four  of  whom  were  women.  Several 
other  rafts  were  made,  but  none  of  them 
were  so  large  as  this.  Doors,  barrels,  and, 
in  fact,  everything  that  floated,  came  into 
use.  On  some  of  these  there  were  two 
and  three,  but  the  largest  could  not  sup- 
port more  than  four  or  five. 

How  a  man  feels  during  the  process  of 
drowning  may  be  judged  by  the  statement 


of  Mr.  McCabe,  a  passenger,  who  says: 
I  remained  on  the  vessel  until  she  sank, 
when  I  went  down  with  her.  I  had  been 
employed  a  few  minutes  before  with  two 
others,  one  of  whom  was  called  'Tom  the 
storekeeper,'  in  lashing  some  casks  to- . 
gether,  when  I  was  driven  away  by  the 
water,  which  rushed  in  with  fearful  impet- 
uosity. Jumping  upon  the  paddle-box,  I 
sprang  on  the  saloon  deck,  and  in  an 
instant  was  engulfed  in  the  surging 
waters,  which  soon  closed  over  our  heads. 
Down,  down  we  sank,  with  our  noble  vessel, 
into  the  bosom  of  the  ocean,  and  the  terri- 
ble thought  took  possession  of  my  mind 
that  I  was  drowning.  I  retained  my  con- 
sciousness, however,  all  the  time  I  was 
under  the  water,  and  it  was  with  a  feeling 
of  intense  joy  that  I  found,  after  about 
half  a  minute,  that  I  was  rapidly  rising 
towards  the  surface.  It  was  all  darkness 
before,  but  now  I  could  see  a  dim  light 
above  me,  and  in  a  few  seconds  I  was  on 
the  top  of  the  water,  struggling  for  life. 
Being  a  good  swimmer,  and  having,  be- 
sides, the  support  of  a  life-preserver,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  a  door,  which  was  float- 
ing a  few  feet  from  where  I  rose.  I  looked 
around  me,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  the 
vessel  except  a  few  loose  timbers  and  the 
rafts  which  were  floating  about,  some  with 
and  others  without  passengers.  Finding 
I  could  not  retain  my  hold  of  the  door  with 
safety,  I  left  it  and  swam  to  a  barrel 
which  lay  a  few  feet  from  me,  and  from 
this  again  I  swam  to  the  large  raft,  to 
which  some  seventy  persons  were  clinging. 
The  sea,  though  not  strong,  was  rough,  and 
the  waves,  as  they  dashed  remorselessly 
over  the  raft,  washed  away  a  portion  of  its 
living  freight.  It  was  an  awful  scene — a 
multitude  of  human  beings,  in  the  midst  of 
the  ocean,  without  the  slightest  hope  of 
assistance,  while  every  minute  one  by  one 
was  dropping  into  a  watery  grave,  from 
sheer  exhaustion.  Those  who  had  life- 
preservers  did  not  sink,  but  floated  with 
their  ghastly  faces  upwards,  reminding 
those  who  still  remained  alive,  of  the  fate 
that  awaited  them.  Of  those  who  dropped 
away,  some  floated  off  and  were  gnawed 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


433 


and  eaten  by  fishes,  while  others  were 
washed  under  the  raft,  where  their  faces 
could  be  seen  through  the  openings,  as 
they  •were  swayed  to  and  fro  by  the  waves. 
The  raft  at  one  time  was  so  crowded  that 
many  had  to  hold  on  by  one  hand.  Very 
few  words  were  spoken  by  any,  and  the 
only  sound  to  be  heard  was  the  splash  of 
the  waters  or  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
poor  sufferers,  as  they  tried  to  recover 
their  breath,  after  a  wave  had  passed  over 
them.  Nearly  all  were  submerged  to  their 
armpits,  while  a  few  could  with  great  dif- 
ficulty keep  their  heads  above  the  surface. 
The  women  were  the  first  to  go ;  they 


his  pocket,  but  finding  this  impossible,  on 
account  of  being  ill  so  cramped  a  position, 
placed  it  between  his  teeth  until  overtaken 
by  a  tremendous  wave,  when  he  lost  his 
hold  upon  it  and  it  was  washed  away. 
Another,  who  had  on  an  oiled  silk  coat, 
called  on  McCabe,  for  heaven's  sake,  to 
render  assistance,  as  his  strength  was  rap- 
idly failing,  and  he  must  fall  off  if  not 
relieved.  As  he  was  about  four  or  five 
feet  distant,  it  was  difficult  to  reach  him, 
but  after  considerable  exertions  this  was 
done,  McCabe  helping  him  by  the  use  of  a 
knee,  until,  becoming  himself  quite  faint, 
the  hapless  man  was,  by  necessity,  left  to 


LOSS  OF  THE  COLLINS  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC,  BY  COLLISION  AT  NOONDAY,  IN  MID-OCEAN. 


were  unable  to  stand  the  exposure  more 
than  three  or  four  hours.  They  all  fell  off 
the  raft  without  a  word,  except  one  poor 
girl,  who  cried  out  in  intense  agony,  "  Oh, 
my  poor  mother  and  sisters  !  " 

At  the  expiration  of  some  eighteen 
hours,  there  were  not  more  than  three  or 
iour  persons  remaining  upon  it,  including 
McCabe.  One  of  these  gave  to  the  latter 
what  appeared  to  be  a  small  map,  but 
which  the  giver  was  understood  to  say  was 
a  sort  of  title-deed  to  his  property.  In  a 
few  moments  after  thus  transferring  it, 
he,  too,  unloosed  his  hold,  and  was  added 
to  the  number  that  floated  about  the  raft. 
McCabe  endeavored  to  get  the  paper  into 
28 


his  fate.  Poor  fellow,  he  promised  if  he 
ever  got  to  New  York  alive,  he  would 
reward  his  deliverer  well.  He  clung  with 
terrible  tenacity  to  life,  but  he,  too, 
dropped  off  in  his  turn. 

McCabe  was  now  the  only  one  left  upon 
the  raft — not  a  solitary  person  being  alive, 
of  all  the  seventy  who,  within  a  few  hours, 
were  his  companions.  The  night  of  the 
second  day  was  about  closing  on  him,  and 
during  the  whole  time  he  haa  been  in  the 
water,  he  had  not  eaten  a  particle  of  any- 
thing nor  drank  a  drop.  His  strength 
was  beginning  to  give  way,  and  his  sight 
had  become  so  dim  as  to  render  objects 
invisible  a  few  feet  off — even  the  ghastly 


434 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  AKCTIC. 


faces  of  the  dead  that  looked  up  from 
under  the  raft  were  hardly  discernible. 
Determined  to  make  one  more  effort  for 
life,  he  raised  himself  on  his  knees  upon 
the  raft,  and  through  the  dusk  of  evening 
saw,  or  thought  he  saw,  a  vessel.  At  this, 
his  strength  revived,  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments was  heard  the  voice  of  some  one 
approaching  in  a  boat.  And  so  it  proved. 
After  twenty-six  hours  of  exposure,  lie  was 
rescued  from  a  watery  grave,  by  a  boat 
manned  by  Mr.  Dorian,  some  sailors,  and 
Captain  Grann,  one  of  the  Arctic  pas- 
sengers. 

A  lucid  description  of  the  whole  scene, 
as  given  by  Captain  Grann,  who  was  below 
at  the  time  of  the  collision,   states  that 
upon  going  on  deck,  the  Vesta  was  on  the 
starboard  quarter  of  the  Arctic,  about  half 
a  cable's  length  off,  with   her   starboard 
bow  completely  stove,  from  stem  to  fore- 
rigging,  to  the  water's  edge.     The  Vesta 
lowered  a  boat,  which  got  under  the  star- 
board   wheel    of    the    Arctic,    and    was 
swamped.     When  I  came  on  deck  (contin- 
ues Captain  Grann,)  they  were  lowering 
away  the  boats.     Both   anchors   were  on 
the  starboard  side  of  the  deck,  and  I  went 
aft  and  asked  Captain  Luce  if  I  should 
remove  the  anchors  to  the  port  side,  as  all 
of  the  ship's  officers  were   aft,    lowering 
away  the  boats  and  rigging  pumps.     He 
gave  orders  so  to  do,  and,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  some  passengers  and  a  few  of  the 
crew,  I  carried  the  same  into  execution.    I 
then  went  on  the  topgallant  forecastle  and 
examined    into    the    state   of   her   bows. 
Could  see  no  evidences  of  her  being  stove, 
excepting   some   bad   chafes,    the   oakum 
hanging  out,  and  a  piece  of  the  iron  boat 
protruding  from  the  planks.     As  soon  as 
I  discovered  this,  I  reported  it  to  Captain 
Luce,  which  was  the  first  known  of  the 
Arctic    having    received  serious  damage. 
He  then  requested  me  to  go  below  and 
ascertain,  if  possible,  where  the  leak  was. 
Went  below  and  broke  cargo — could  hear 
water    rushing   in.      The   carpenter   was 
ordered  below  between  decks  to  stop  the 
leak,    and  commenced   cutting   away  the 
ceiling.     I  went  to  work  with  crew  and 


passengers,  breaking  out  cargo  from  lower 
hold,  but  very  soon  discovered  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  stop  the  leak,  as  the 
water  was  over  the  cargo.  I  then  left  the 
hold  and  went  on  deck,  where  I  learnt  that 
the  lower  fires  were  out,  and  from  this  time 
all  order  and  discipline  ceased  on  board. 
The  water  was  up  to  the  lower  deck,  and 
gaining  rapidly,  passengers  and  crew  still 
laboring  at  the  pumps. 

There  were  six  boats  on  board.  The 
first  boat  was  lowered  with  the  chief  mate, 
boatswain,  and  three  men ;  she  was  low- 
ered to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  other 
steamer,  and  was  left  behind  on  its  being 
found  that  the  Arctic  was  in  a  sinking 
condition.  Two  of  the  quarter-boats  were 
taken  by  the  second  and  fourth  officers 
and  crew.  Another  boat  was  taken  by  the 
engineers,  and  was  supplied  with  provis- 
ions, water,  etc. ;  there  were  only  eight  or 
nine  in  this  boat,  and,  though  it  was  not 
full,  they  would  not  permit  any  one  else 
to  come  on  board — indeed,  it  was  said  that 
revolvers  were  threatened  to  be  used  on 
this  occasion.  The  fourth  quarter-boat 
was  hauled  alongside  by  Captain  Luce, 
the  third  mate,  and  Captain  Grann.  Into 
this  boat,  placed  in  charge  of  one  of  the 
ship's  quartermasters,  Captain  Luce  put  a 
number  of  ladies ;  immediately,  several  of 
the  gentlemen  passengers  made  a  rush  and 
jumped  into  the  boat,  and,  as  it  was  full, 
the  painter  was  cut  and  the  boat  drifted 
astern.  The  sixth  boat  was  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck, and,  a  lot  of  spare  spars  being 
secured  for  making  a  raft,  this  boat  was 
launched,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the 
construction — the  oars  being  taken  out  of 
her,  so  that  those  who  got  on  board  should 
not  desert  while  the  lashing  of  the  raft 
was  going  on.  This  latter  work  being 
completed  as  far  as  was  possible,  the  boat, 
which  was  now  full,  was  shoved  off  from 
the  raft,  and,  in  about  ten  minutes  after, 
the  noble  steamer  went  down,  stern  fore- 
most. One  fearful  shriek  went  up  to 
heaven  from  that  agonized  company,  as 
they  were  swept  forward  against  the 
smoke-stack  ;  and  then  all  was  over. 
At  the  time  of  the  collision,  the  passen- 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


435 


gers  had  gathered  in  the  cabin,  prepara- 
tory to  luncheon,  and  some  of  them  were 
engaged  in  drawing  the  numbers  of  the 
daily  lottery,  the  chances  of  the  same 
being  based  upon  the  number  of  miles  run 
during  the  preceding  twenty-four  hours. 
The  Arctic  was  then  running  at  the  rate 
of  twelve  and  one-half  miles  an  hour,  the 
usual  speed  in  foggy  weather  in  that  lati- 
tude. Two  men  were  on  the  lookout,  sta- 
tioned on  the  forecastle,  and  there  was  all 
the  usual  precaution  against  such  a  calam- 
ity. The  advancing  vessel  was  seen  but  a 
moment  before  she  struck,  but  the  instant 
she  was  discovered  through  the  dense  fog, 
the  order  was  given,  "  Hard  starboard  the 
helm  and  reverse  the  engine."  The  order 
was  as  quickly  obeyed ;  and,  though  at 
first  there  was  no  realization  of  the  actual 
damage  done,  the  terror  and  confusion 
became  very  great  when  the  extent  of  the 
injury  was  disclosed.  The  conduct  of 
Captain  Luce  was  calm,  manly,  courageous ; 
to  the  last  he  declared,  "  The  fate  of  the 
ship  shall  be  mine."  Catherwood,  the 
eminent  artist,  Professor  Reed,  and  Messrs. 
Sandford  and  Benedict,  the  well-known 
jurists,  were  early  among  the  lost. 

On  its  appearing  that  the  Arctic  was 
inevitably  lost,  the  captain  put  Mrs.  Col- 
lins— wife  of  the  owner  of  the  line — and 
her  children,  with  other  women,  children, 
and  passengers,  into  a  boat  which  was  on 
the  larboard  side  of  the  ship,  near  the 
wheel-house ;  a  little  biscuit  and  water 
were  provided,  but  they  were  without 
compass,  and  not  a  single  man  able  to 
guide  their  course.  Unfortunately,  at  the 
moment  of  lowering  this  boat,  one  of  the 
pulleys  gave  way,  the  other  remaining 
entangled.  The  boat  was  precipitated 
nearly  perpendicularly,  and  all  who  were 
in  it,  excepting  three  persons,  were  thrown 
into  the  sea  and  lost.  At  such  a  moment, 
a  misfortune  like  this  was  without  a 
remedy. 

The  overhauling  of  the  boat,  now  empty, 
was  achieved  at  last,  and  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  regulate  her  destiny,  by  any  mere 
official  orders.  Passengers  and  sailors, 
without  ceremony,  jumped  into  the  boat, 


which  was  in  a  few  seconds  filled.  M.  de 
Grammont  tried  to  jump,  but  fell  into  the 
sea,  and  would  immediately  have  perished, 
had  it  not  been  for  his  servant,  who,  by  a 
superhuman  effort,  hoisted  him  on  board. 
Dulaquais  (the  servant)  regained  the  boat 
by  means  of  a  rope,  inviting  the  master  to 
follow  his  example,  but  the  boat  had 
already  got  under  way.  Dulaquais  made 
a  great  jump,  and  fell  like  an  inert  mass 
into  the  boat.  M.  de  Grammont,  from 
lack  of  strength  to  imitate  him,  was  obliged 
to  allow  the  precious  moment  to  pass 
unimproved  which  separated  safety  from 
death. 

One  passenger  offered  thirty  thousand 
pounds  sterling,  or  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  if  the  boats  would  put 
back  to  save  him.  They  turned  to  do  so, 
but  before  they  reached  him  he  sank, 
uttering,  as  he  disappeared,  the  most 
piercing  moan  of  deathly  agony. 

Another  instance  was  that  of  a  man 
who,  just  as  one  of  the  boats  was  shoving 
off  from  the  Arctic,  called  piteously  to  a 
friend  in  the  boat,  and,  bidding  him  good- 
bye, requested  him  to  bear  his  love  to  his 
wife  in  Philadelphia,  and  tell  her  he  was 
gone. 

Mr.  Brennan,  one  of  the  engineers,  had 
an  opportunity  to  be  saved  in  the  chief 
engineer's  boat,  but  he  had  charge  of  a 
boy  whom  he  would  not  abandon ;  both, 
however,  were  saved  in  another  boat.  An 
unknown  gentleman  threw  a  heavy  purse 
of  gold  from  the  ship  to  the  boy,  after  the 
latter  got  into  the  boat. 

The  following  statement,  made  by  a 
gentleman  who  was  saved  from  the  wreck, 
exhibits  human  nature  in  one  of  its 
strange  phases,  in  view  of  so  terrible  a 
crisis : — Among  our  passengers  was  a  gen- 
tleman about  thirty-five  to  thirty-eight 
years  of  age,  of  very  reserved  manners, 
and  evidently  depressed  spirits.  Being 
located  in  the  same  berth,  I  was  one  day 
accidentally  struck  by  the  significant  fact 
that  his  linen  was  marked  with  initials 
differing  from  those  of  the  name  by  which 
he  passed  and  in  which  he  had  shipped. 
A  few  remarks  from  me  induced  him 


436 


LOSS  OF  THE  STEAMSHIP  ARCTIC. 


(under  promise  of  secrecy,  which  the  ex- 
tent of  this  communication  does  not  vio- 
late), to  explain  how  circumstances  of  a 
distressing  nature  had  induced  his  expa- 
triation. Subsequent  conversations  re- 
vealed to  me  that  blighted  hopes  con- 
strained him  to  regard  his  existence  but 
lightly,  and,  from  his  stolid  indifference 
when  the  encounter  took  place,  it  is  my 
belief  that  he  courted  those  embraces  of 
death  which,  alas !  so  many  have  vainly 
struggled  to  resist. 

Every  account  confirms  the  statement 
that  the  ladies  exhibited  the  most  admira- 
ble coolness,  and  stared  death  in  the  face 
with  a  heroism  which  should  have  put  to 
blush  the  men  who  deserted  and  left  them 
to  their  fate.  At  the  moment  when  one  of 
the  unfortunate  boats  was  disappearing 
from  mortal  view,  a  French  lady,  remarked 
for  her  dark  complexion,  was  seen  to  be 
courageously  using  her  oar.  Not  a  single 
female,  however,  of  whom  there  were  some 
sixty  on  board,  escaped  the  awful  doom, 
though  every  possible  effort  was  made  by 
Captain  Luce  to  have  the  women,  chil- 
dren, and  passengers  first  cared  for.  Thus, 
when  one  of  the  men  attempted  to  leave, 
the  captain  caught  him,  and  tore  the  shirt 
off  the  man's  back  to  prevent  him  from 
going,  exclaiming,  "  Let  the  passengers 
go  in  the  boat."  He  also  seized  a  kind  of 
axe,  and  attempted  to  prevent  the  firemen 
reaching  the  boat ;  but  it  was  '  every  one 
for  himself,'  and,  finally,  no  more  attention 
was  paid  to  the  captain  than  to  any  other 
man  on  board. 

The  Arctic  was  built  in  New  York,  and 
was  considered  as  staunch  and  splendid  a 
vessel  as  was  ever  constructed ;  her  meas- 
urement was  three  thousand  five  hundred 
tons,  and  the  whole  cost  nearly  a  million 
dollars.  Of  the  more  than  four  hundred 
souls  who  left  Liverpool  in  this  ill-fated 
ship,  full  of  hope,  gayety,  and  health,  only 


about  one-tenth  escaped  a  watery  grave. 
Many  of  these,  including  a  large  number 
of  professional  and  business  men  of  emi- 
nence, were  returning  from  an  European 
tour  of  pleasure.  The  accident  happened 
within  forty  miles  east  of  Cape  Race,  the 
eastern  extremity  of  Newfoundland,  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Virgin  Rocks. 

After  striking  the  Arctic,  the  Vesta 
appeared  to  be  sinking,  but  immediately 
rose  again;  but  no  hope  was  entertained 
of  her  ultimate  safety,  the  passengers  and 
crew  looking  upon  the  Arctic  as  their  only 
chance  of  saving  their  lives.  One  man 
was  killed,  and  others  severely  wounded. 
Two  boats  were  put  over  the  side,  the  first 
of  which  was  sunk ;  the  second  was  imme- 
diately boarded  by  some  of  the  crew  and 
passengers,  who,  heedless  of  the  captain's 
order  to  return,  abandoned  the  vessel. 
The  fog  continuing  very  thick,  they  lost 
sight  of  the  Arctic  altogether,  still  hoping, 
however,  that  she  would  not  desert  them. 
Lightening  the  vessel  in  the  fore  part,  her 
bows  were  thereby  considerably  raised, 
thus  greatly  stopping  the  rush  of  water; 
and,  by  other  means  and  contrivances, 
they  were  enabled  to  run,  under  small 
steam,  for  the  nearest  port,  St.  John's, 
where  she  arrived  September  30th. 

For  many  days,  as  already  remarked, 
the  terrible  fate  of  the  Arctic,  and  the 
marv  melancholy  incidents  connected  with 
it,,  made  a  profoundly  painful  sensation  in 
business  circles — everywhere,  indeed.  The 
sympathies  of  the  community  were  espe- 
cially with  Mr.  Collins,  whose  misfortune 
was  a  double  and  overwhelming  one — the 
loss  of  his  beloved  family  and  his  noble 
ship  at  the  same  time.  The  Collins  line 
of  steamers  did  more  to  give  character  and 
prestige  to  the  mercantile  marine  of  Amer- 
ica than  can  readily  be  estimated  ;  and  the 
loss  of  the  Arctic,  therefore,  was  every- 
where regarded  as  a  national  calamity. 


LIV. 

ASSAULT    ON    THE    HON.    CHARLES    SUMNER,    BY    HON. 
PRESTON    S.    BROOKS.— 1856. 


Twenty  Sudden  and  Terrible  Blows,  with  a  Solid  Gutta  Percha  Cane,  Dealt  upon  Mr.  Simmer's  Bare 
Head. — He  Staggers  and  Falls,  Senseless,  Gashed,  and  Bleeding.— Summer's  Great  Kansas  Speech 
for  Free  Soil  and  Free  Labor  —Speech  by  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Carolina. — Mr.  Sumner's  Scorch- 
ing Reply. — South  Carolinians  Offended. — An  Assault  Determined  On. — Mr.  Brooks  their  Champion. 
— Two  Days'  Watch  for  His  Victim — Finds  Him  Alone  at  His  Desk. — Approaches  Unobserved. — A 
Quick  and  Deadly  Blow.  —  Mr.  Sumner  Instantly  Stunned.  —  His  Ineffectual  Defense.  —  Brooks's 
Accomplices  at  Hand.— Their  Advantage  over  Sumner.— Storm  of  Public  Indignation. — Action  Taken 
by  Congress.  —  Reign  of  Terror  at  the  Capital.  —  Mr.  Sumner's  Three  Years' Illness.  —  Recovery, 
Illustrious  Career. — Death  of  Brooks  and  His  Allies. — Time's  Retributions. 


In  the  name  of  the  Constitution,  whi 


ich  has  been  outraged  —  of  the  Laws  trampled  down—  of  Justice  banished—  of  Humanity  degraded- 
to  the  earth:  and  in  the  name  of  the  Heavenly  Father,  whose  service  U  perfect  Freedom,  1  make 
"  " 


, 

it  Peace  destroyed—  of  Freedom  crushed  t 
LhkUit  appeal.  —SI5AXOB  SCUVEB'S  SFXECU,  "TUB  CKIMK  AOAIKST  KAJSAS." 


LIBERTY  FOB  KANSAS. 


ISTORY  records  but  one  instance  of  a  great 
and  honored  statesman — one  of  the  foremost 
men  of  the  age,  in  fact,  in  his  advocacy  of 
human  rights  —  being  struck  down  by  the 
instruments  of  bloody  violence,  while  in  his 
seat  in  the  senate  chamber  of  his  country's 
capitol,  and  there  lying  prostrate,  bleeding, 
and  insensible,  until  removed  by  friendly 
hands. 

This  barbarous  deed  transpired  at  Washing- 
ton, on  the  twenty-second  of  May,  1856 ;  and 
it  would  be  difficult  to  name  any  other  event, 
up  to  this  period,  which  so  shook  the  country 
to  its  center — culminating,  too,  in  the  brief 
space  of  but  five  succeeding  years,  in  that  ter- 
rible shock  of  arms,  which  changed  the  desti- 
nies of  the  republic,  and  gave  new  life  and  the 
national  guaranty  to  human  rights. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  May,  the  Hon.  Charles 
Sumner,  United  States  senator  from  Massa- 
chusetts, began  a  speech  in  the  senate,  in  favor 
of  admitting  Kansas  into  the  Union,  under  s 
state  constitution  which  she  had  adopted,  pro- 
hibiting slavery.  The  question  had  for  a  long 


438 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNEK,  BY  BROOKS. 


time  produced  the  most  intense  political 
excitement  all  over  the  land,  the  south,  as 
the  advocate  of  slave  territory,  and  the 
north,  as  the  defender  of  free  soil  and  free 
labor,  being  bitterly  arrayed  against  each 
other.  Mr.  Sumner  treated  the  subject 
with  his  accustomed  power  of  argument 
and  rhetoric,  and  at  great  length,  his 
speech  occupying  two  days.  A  portion  of 
it  was  directed  with  remarkable  vigor  and 
sarcasm,  though  entirely  within  parlia- 
mentary bounds,  to  the  arguments  of  the 
Hon.  A.  P.  Butler,  senator  from  South 
Carolina,  delivered  some  days  previously, 
— this  part  of  Mr.  Sumner's  speech  giving 
great  offense  to  the  members  of  congress 
from  that  state. 

On  the  twenty-second,  the  senate  ad- 
journed at  an  early  hour,  in  consequence 
of  the  announcement  of  the  death  of  Hon. 
Mr.  Miller  of  Missouri.  After  the  ad- 
journment, as  is  the  custom  of  some  sena- 
tors, Mr.  Sumner  remained  at  his  desk, 
and  was  there  writing  unsuspectingly  and 
busily,  when  he  was  approached  by  Pres- 
ton S.  Brooks  and  L.  M.  Keitt,  congress- 
men from  South  Carolina,  each  with  a 
cane.  Brooks  was  a  nephew  of  Senator 
Butler.  Several  persons  had  been  about 
Mr.  Sumner's  desk  after  the  adjournment, 
but  just  now  he  was  alone.  Senator  Wil- 
son had  left  him  only  a  few  moments 
before,  on  his  way  out  passing  Brooks, 
who  was  sitting  in  a  back  seat.  Brooks 
walked  up  in  front  of  Mr.  Sumner's  seat, 
and,  saluting  him,  made  the  following 
remarks : 

"  Mr.  Sumner,  I  have  read  your  speech 
carefully,  and  with  as  much  calmness  as  I 
could  be  expected  to  read  such  a  speech. 
You  have  libeled  my  state,  and  slandered 
my  relative,  who  is  aged  and  absent,  and 
I  feel  it  to  be  my  duty  to  punish  you  for 
it." 

Without  waiting  for  any  reply,  or  asking 
for  any  explanation,  Brooks  instantly 
struck  Mr.  Sumner  a  violent  blow  upon 
the  top  of  his  bare  head,  while  the  latter 
was  still  in  a  sitting  posture,  with  a  heavy 
gutta  percha  cane.  Brooks  followed  this 
blow  immediately  with  other  blows,  from 


twelve  to  twenty  in  all,  dealing  them  with 
all  the  force  which  his  herculean  size  and 
great  strength  made  him  master  of. 

Mr.  Sumner  had  no  distinct  conscious- 
ness after  the  first  blow.  He  involunta- 
rily strove  to  rise  from  his  seat,  but  being 
confined  by  his  writing  position,  he 
wrenched  his  desk  from  its  iron  fasten- 
ings, in  attempting  to  extricate  himself. 
Stunned  and  blinded,  however,  from  the 
first,  his  efforts  at  self-defense  were  inef- 
fectual, and,  staggering  under  the  fast- 
repeated  blows,  he  fell  senseless  to  the 
floor,  gashed,  bleeding,  and  powerless. 
The  cane  used  was  a  deadly  weapon,  being 
as  hard  as  hickory  or  whalebone ;  it  was 
one  inch  in  diameter  at  the  larger  end, 
and  tapered  to  the  diameter  of  about  five- 
eighths  of  an  inch  at  the  smaller  end,  and 
so  violently  did  Brooks  deal  his  blows 
upon  the  defenseless  senator's  head,  that 
the  deadly  weapon  was  shattered  into 
many  pieces  by  the  time  the  assault  ter- 
minated. 

Mr.  Morgan  and  Mr.  Murray,  of  the 
New  York  delegation,  were  in  the  front 
ante-chamber,  and,  hearing  the  noise, 
went  in.  Mr.  Murray  seized  hold  of 
Brooks,  and  Mr.  Morgan  went  to  the  relief 
of  Mr.  Sumner,  whom  he  found  prostrate 
and  nearly  insensible.  The  persons  pres- 
ent in  the  senate  were  Mr.  Sutton,  one  of 
the  reporters,  the  assistant  sergeant-at- 
arms,  Mr.  Simonton,  Senators  Crittenden, 
Iverson,  Bright,  Toombs,  Pearce,  and  a 
few  others.  No  one  of  the  senators  seemed 
to  offer  to  interfere  but  the  venerable  Mr. 
Crittenden,  who  pronounced  it  an  inexcus- 
able outrage.  Mr.  Wilson  rushed  into  the 
senate-chamber  on  hearing  of  the  attack, 
but  found  Mr.  Sumner  Jiad  been  removed 
to  the  vice-president's  room,  and  that  a 
surgeon  was  in  attendance.  He  then 
helped  to  put  his  colleague  into  a  carriage, 
and  went  with  him  to  his  lodgings.  The 
senator's  condition  was  deplorable.  There 
were  frightful  cuts  on  his  head,  and  hi8 
clothes  were  literally  covered  with  blood. 
Upon  the  papers  and  documents  covering 
his  desk,  as  well  as  upon  the  adjoining 
desks,  blood  was  also  freely  spattered. 


ASSAULT  ON  SUMNER,  BY  BROOKS. 


439 


But  for  the  interference  of  Messrs.  Murray 
and  Morgan,  Mr.  Sunnier  would  have  cer- 
tainly been  killed,  under  the  remorseless 
and  unceasing  blows  of  his  assailant ;  the 
former  seized  Brooks  around  the  waist, 
while  he  was  striking  Suniner,  and,  with 
Morgan's  help,  pulled  him  away.  The 
advantage  which  Brooks  had  over  his 
victim  was  complete ;  stunning  him  with 
the  very  first  attack,  he  afterwards  seized 
him  by  the  shoulder,  held  him  with  the 
left  hand,  while,  with  the  other,  he  kept 
laying  deadly  blows  upon  his  head. 

It  appears  that  as  early  as  Tuesday, 
before  Mr.  Sumner's  speech  was  concluded, 
Brooks  took  exception  to  the  senator's 
remarks ;  and  that  on  Wednesday  morn- 
ing, after  the  delivery  of  the  speech,  he 


On  Thursday  morning,  Brooks  and  Ed- 
mundson    were    again    together    at    the 
western  entrance  of  the  capitol  grounds, 
on   Pennsylvania  avenue,  a  point  which 
commands  a  view  of  all  the  approaches  to 
the  capitol  from  that  portion  of  the  city 
in   which   Mr.    Sumner    resided.      Here, 
Brooks  talked  with  Edmundson  about  his 
being  on  the  lookout  for  Mr.  Sumner,  and 
his  determination  to  resent  the  language 
of  the  speech.      They  failed  to  see  Mr. 
Sumner,  and  went  to  the  capitol  together. 
In  addition  to  Edmundson,  Mr.  Keitt  had 
also  been  informed  of  Brooks's  purpose  to 
make  the  assault — indeed,  was  one  of  the 
chief  planners  of  the  whole  thing.     Keitt 
was  near  by,  when  Brooks  commenced  the 
attack,  and  Edmundson  took  a  position  in 
an  ante-room  adjoining ;  and,  as  soon  as 
an  attempt  was  made  by  the  bystanders 
to  protect  Mr.  Sumner,  Keitt  rushed  up 
with  a  cane  in  a  threatening  manner, 
Edmundson  also   entering  the  chamber 
soon  after  Mr.  Sumner  fell.     It  thus  ap- 
peared that  the  murderous  assault  was 
premeditated  during  a  period  of  at  least 
two  days,  and  that  the  only  provocation 
consisted  in  Mr.  Sumner's  response  to 
Mr.   Butler's   coarse   aspersions    uttered 
some  days  before, — Mr.  Sumner's  words 
being  lawfully  spoken  in  debate  in  the 


^_j  .  senate  chamber,  not  once  being  ruled  out 

//    7  /f    ^/&/£cs\^    °^  or^er  kv  the  presiding  officer,  nor  ob- 

i 


declared  to  Mr.  Edmundson,  a  member  of 
congress  from  Virginia,  by  whom  he  was 
met  in  the  capitol  grounds  a  short  time 
before  the  meeting  of  the  two  houses,  that 
he  had  determined  to  punish  Mr.  Sumner, 
unless  he  made  an  ample  apology  for  the 
language  he  had  uttered  in  his  speech; 
Brooks  expressed  a  desire  that  he,  Ed- 
mundson, should  be  present  and  witness 
the  scene,  and  they  thereupon  took  a  seat 
near  the  walk  leading  from  Pennsylvania 
avenue  to  the  capitol,  where  they  remained 
some  fifteen  minutes,  awaiting  the  ap- 
proach of  Mr.  Sumner,  but,  as  he  did  not 
make  his  appearance,  the  two  proceeded  to 
the  capitol. 


jected  to  by  any  senator  as  in  any  way 
violative  of  the  parliamentary  rules  estab- 
lished for  the  government  and  order  of  that 
body. 

On  the  ensuing  day,  the  outrage  was 
brought  to  the  attention  of  the  senate,  by 
Mr.  Wilson,  who  said :  "  The  seat  of  my 
colleague  is  vacant  to-day.  For  the  first 
time  after  five  years  of  public  service,  that 
seat  is  vacant.  Yesterday,  after  the 
touching  tribute  of  respect  to  the  memory 
of  Mr.  Miller,  of  Missouri,  a  deceased 
member  of  the  house  of  representatives, 
the  senate  adjourned.  My  colleague  re- 
mained in  his  seat,  engaged  in  public 
duties.  While  thus  engaged,  with  pen  in 
hand,  and  in  a  position  which  rendered 
him  utterly  incapable  of  protection,  or 


440 


ASSAULT  ON    SUMNER,  BY  BROOKS. 


defending  himself,  Mr.  Preston  S.  Brooks, 
a  member  of  the  house  from  South  Caro- 
lina, approached  him  unobserved,  and  ab- 
ruptly addressed  him.  Looking  up,  and 
before  he  had  time  to  utter  a  single  word 
in  reply  to  him,  he  received  a  stunning 
blow  on  the  head  from  the  cane  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Brooks,  which  made  him 
almost  senseless  and  unconscious  ;  endeav- 
oring, however,  to  protect  himself,  in 
rising  from  his  chair,  his  desk  was  over- 
thrown; and  while  in  that  powerless  con- 
dition, he  was  beaten  upon  the  head  and 
shoulders  by  repeated  blows  from  Mr. 
Brooks,  until  he  sank  upon  the  floor  of  the 
senate,  unconscious,  exhausted,  and  covered 
with  his  own  blood.  He  was  raised  from 
the  floor  by  a  few  friends,  taken  into  an 
ante-room,  and  his  wounds  dressed.  From 
thence  he  was  carried  to  his  house,  and 
placed  upon  his  bed.  He  is  thus  unable 
to  be  with  us  to  day,  to  perform  the  duties 
which  belong  to  him  as  a  member  of  this 
body.  To  hold  a  member  of  the  senate 
responsible  out  of  this  chamber  for  words 
spoken  in  debate  is  a  grave  offense,  not 
only  against  the  rights  of  a  member,  but 
against  the  constitutional  privileges  of  this 
body;  but,  sir,  to  come  into  this  chamber, 
and  assault  a  member  in  his  seat,  until  he 
falls  exhausted  upon  this  floor,  is  an 
offense  requiring  the  prompt  action  of  this 
body.  Sir,  I  submit  no  motion, — I  leave 
it  to  older  senators,  whose  character  and 
position  in  the  senate,  and  before  the 
country,  eminently  fit  them  to  take  the 
lead  in  a  measure  to  redress  the  wrongs  of 
members  of  this  body,  and  vindicate  the 
honor  and  dignity  of  the  senate."  A  com- 
mittee of  investigation  was  appointed. 

In  the  house  of  representatives,  also,  the 
outrage  was  the  subject  of  legislative 
action,  after  an  exciting  debate,  in  which 
Mr.  Burlingame  of  Massachusetts,  thus 
gave  expression,  in  the  course  of  a  manly 
and  truthful  speech,  to  the  sentiments  of 
every  noble-minded  citizen  in  the  land: 
"  On  the  22d  day  of  May,  when  the  senate 
and  the  house  had  clothed  themselves  in 
mourning  for  a  brother  fallen  in  the  battle 
of  life  in  the  distant  state  of  Missouri,  the 


senator  from  Massachusetts  sat,  in  the 
silence  of  the  senate  chamber,  engaged  JD 
employments  appertaining  to  Ms  office, 
when  a  member  from  this  house,  who  had 
taken  an  oath  to  sustain  the  constitution, 
stole  into  the  senate — that  place  which  had 
hitherto  been  held  sacred  against  violence 
— and  smote  him  as  Cain  smote  his 

brother One  blow  was  enough  ; 

but  it  did  not  satiate  the  wrath  of  that 
spirit  which  had  pursued  him  through  two 
days.  Again,  and  again,  and  again, 
quicker  and  faster,  fell  the  leaden  blows, 
until  he  was  torn  away  from  his  victim, 
when  the  senator  from  Massachusetts  fell 
into  the  arms  of  his  friends,  and  his  blood 
ran  down  the  senate  floor.  Sir,  the  act 
was  brief,  and  my  comments  on  it  shall  be 
brief  also.  I  denounce  it  in  the  name  of 
the  sovereignty  of  Massachusetts,  which 
was  stricken  down  by  the  blow ;  I  de- 
nounce it  in  the  name  of  humanity;  I 
denounce  it  in  the  name  of  civilization, 
which  it  outraged !  I  denounce  it  in  the 
name  of  that  fair  play  which  bullies  and 
prize-fighters  respect.  What !  strike  a 
man  when  he  is  pinioned — when  he  cannot 
respond  to  a  blow!  Call  you  that  chiv- 
alry ?  In  what  code  of  honor  did  yon  get 
your  authority  for  that !  "  Similar  legis- 
lative action  to  that  of  the  senate  was 
adopted,  on  motion  of  Mr.  Campbell,  for 
inquiring  into  the  circumstances  of  so 
brutal,  murderous,  and  cowardly  an  as- 
sault. 

Being  waited  on,  some  days  after  the 
assault,  by  the  committee  of  investigation, 
Mr.  Sumner,  who  was  confined  in  great 
suffering  to  his  bed,  gave  the  following 
testimony :  "  I  attended  the  senate  as 
usual,  on  Thursday,  the  22d  of  May. 
After  some  formal  business,  a  message  was 
received  from  the  house  of  representatives, 
announcing  the  death  of  a  member  of  that 
body  from  Missouri.  This  was  followed 
by  a  brief  tribute  to  the  deceased  from 
Mr.  Geyer,  of  Missouri,  when,  according 
to  usage  and  out  of  respect  to  the  deceased, 
the  senate  adjourned  at  once.  Instead  of 
leaving  the  senate-chamber  with  the  resV 
of  the  senators,  on  the  adjournment,  I  con- 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNER,  BY  BROOKS. 


441 


tinued  in  my  seat,  occupied  with  my  pen, 
and  while  thus  intent,  in  order  to  he  in 
season  for  the  mail,  which  was  soon  to 
close,  I  was  approached  hy  several  persons, 
who  desired  to  converse  with  me,  but  I 
answered  them  promptly  and  briefly,  ex- 
cusing myself  for  the  reason  that  I  was 
engaged.  When  the  last  of  these  persons 
left  me,  I  drew  my  arm-chair  close  to  my 
desk,  and,  with  my  legs  under  the  desk, 
continued  writing.  My  attention  at  this 
time  was  so  entirely  drawn  from  other 
subjects  that,  though  there  must  have 
been  many  persons  in  the  senate,  I  saw 
nobody.  While  thus  intent,  with  my 
head  bent  over  my  writing,  I  was  ad- 
dressed by  a  person  who  approached 


the  front  of  my  desk :  I  was  so  entirely 
absorbed,  that  I  was  not  aware  of  his 
presence  until  I  heard  my  name  pro- 
nounced. As  I  looked  up,  with  pen  in 
hand,  I  saw  a  tall  man,  whose  countenance 
was  not  familiar,  standing  directly  over 
me,  and  at  the  same  moment  caught  these 
words :  '  I  have  read  your  speech  twice 
over,  carefully ;  it  is  a  libel  oa  South  Car- 
olina, and  Mr.  Butler,  who  is  a  relative  of 
mine.'  While  these  words  were  still  pass- 
ing from  his  lips,  he  commenced  a  succes- 
sion of.  blows  with  a  heavy  cane  on  my 
bare  head,  by  the  first  of  which  I  was 
stunned  so  as  to  lose  my  sight.  I  saw  no 
longer  my  assailant,  nor  any  other  person 
or  object  in  the  room.  What  I  did  after- 


wards was  done  almost  unconsciously, 
acting  under  the  instincts  of  self-defense. 
With  head  already  bent  down,  I  rose  from 
my  seat — wrenching  up  my  desk,  which 
was  screwed  to  the  floor — and  then  press- 
ing forward,  while  my  assailant  continued 
his  blows.  I  had  no  other  consciousness 
until  I  found  myself  ten  feet  forward  in 
front  of  my  desk,  lying  on  the  floor  of  the 
senate,  with  my  bleeding  head  supported 
on  the  knee  of  a  gentleman  whom  I  soon 
recognized,  by  voice  and  manner,  as  Mr, 
Morgan,  of  New  York.  Other  persons 
there  were  about  me,  offering  me  friendly 
assistance,  but  I  did  not  recognize  any  of 
them.  Others  there  were  at  a  distance, 
looking  on  and  offering  no  assistance,  of 
whom  I  recognized  only  Mr.  Douglas,  of 
Illinois,  Mr.  Toombs,  of  Georgia,  and  I 
thought  also  my  assailant  standing  be- 
tween them.  I  was  helped  from  the  floor, 
and  conducted  into  the  lobby  of  the  senate, 
where  I  was  placed  upon  a  sofa.  Of  those 
who  helped  me  here  I  have  no  recollection. 
As  I  entered  the  lobby,  I  recognized  Mr. 
Slidell,  of  Louisiana,  who  retreated,  but  I 
recognized  no  one  else  until  I  felt  a 
friendly  grasp  of  the  hand,  which  seemed 
to  come  from  Mr.  Campbell,  of  Ohio.  I 
have  a  vague  impression  that  Mr.  Bright, 
president  of  the  senate,  spoke  to  me  while 
I  was  on  the  floor  of  the  lobby.  I  make 
this  statement  in  answer  to  the  interroga- 
tory of  the  committee,  and  offer  it  as  pre- 
senting completely  all  my  recollections  of 
the  assault  and  of  the  attending  circum- 
stances, whether  immediately  before  or 
immediately  after.  I  desire  to  add,  that 
besides  the  words  which  I  have  given  as 
uttered  by  my  assailant,  I  have  an  indis- 
tinct recollection  of  the  words  '  old  man  ; ' 
but  these  are  so  enveloped  in  the  mist  that 
ensued  from  the  first  blow,  that  I  am  not 
sure  whether  they  were  uttered  or  not." 
On  the  cross-examination,  Mr.  Sumner 
stated  that  he  was  entirely  without  arms 
of  any  kind,  and  that  he  had  no  notice  or 
warning  of  any  kind,  direct  or  indirect,  of 
any  such  assault.  In  answer,  also,  to  a 
cross-question,  Mr.  Sumner  replied  that 
•what  he  had  said  of  Senator  Butler,  of 


442 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNER,  BY  BEOOKS. 


South  Carolina,  was  strictly  responsive  to 
Mr.  Butler's  speeches,  and  according  to 
the  usages  of  parliamentary  debate. 

The  dastardly  blow  which  stunned  Sen- 
ator Sunnier,  also  stunned,  for  the  moment, 
the  great  north  and  west,  from  Maine  to 
Nebraska  —  but  only  to  arouse  them,  as 
they  had  never  been  aroused  before,  to  a 
realization  of  the  true  character  of  the 
conflict  which  was  being  waged  from  one 
end  of  the  land  to  the  other,  and  to  make 
them  more  determined  than  ever,  in  be- 
half of  free  soil,  free  labor,  and  free 
speech.  Indignation  meetings,  composed 
of  the  solid  worth  and  intelligence  of  the 
population  throughout  the  free  states,  were 
immediately  held,  to  protest  against  so 
cowardly  and  murderous  an  attempt  to  sup- 
press the  freedom  of  debate.  In  every  city 
and  town,  the  masses  poured  forth,  to  dem- 
onstrate their  reprobation  of  so  brutal  and 
atrocious  a  wrong,  and  to  express  sympa- 
thy for  Senator  Sumner,  in  view  of  the 
anguish  and  peril  of  his  condition.  In 
Massachusetts,  in  especial,  the  outrage 
upon  their  great  and  honored  senator  pro- 
duced such  an  outburst  of  universal  indig- 
nation as  was  never  known  before.  And  in 
addition  to  this,  the  riches  of  the  wealthy 
were  freely  proffered  him,  to  defray  the 
expenses  incident  to  his  disability ;  and, 
in  Boston,  a  memorial  token  in  appro- 
bation of  the  great  speech  for  which  he 
was  stricken  down,  was  only  prevented 
from  being  consummated,  by  the  senator's 
earnest  request.  This  memorial  was  to  have 
been  a  massive  and  elaborate  silver  vase, two 
feet  in  height,  and  of  grand  proportions. 
According  to  the  design,  there  was  to  be, 
upon  the  summit  of  the  vase,  a  figure  rep- 
resenting Mr.  Sumuer  holding  his  Kansas 
speech  in  his  right  hand ;  on  either  side 
were  the  figures  of  Justice  and  Freedom, 
crowning  him  with  a  wreath  of  laurel ;  a 
winged  genius  sat  at  his  feet?,  inscribing 
his  name  on  a  tablet.  Figures  represent- 
ing Victory  were  upon  the  arms  of  the 
vase,  heralding  the  triumph  of  Freedom. 
Above  the  inscription  to  Mr.  Sumner,  and 
in  the  center,  was  the  coat  of  arms  of 
Massachusetts.  On  the  foot  of  the  vase 


was  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  nation,  between 
masks  and  appropriate  emblems  of  Liberty 
and  Slavery.  By  Mr.  Sumner's  special 
desire,  the  large  amount  contributed  for 
this  purpose  was  devoted  to  the  interests 
of  freedom  in  Kansas. 

But  no  less  was  the  brutal  conduct  of 
Brooks  applauded  throughout  the  south, 
than  was  the  character  of  Mr.  Sumner 
eulogized,  and  his  condition  compassion- 
ated, at  the  north.  Almost  without  excep- 
tion, the  newspapers  in  the  interests  of 
slavery  exulted  over  the  outrage,  and 
urged  similar  treatment  of  Wade,  Seward, 
Wilson,  Giddings,  Hale,  and  others.  Let- 
ters of  admiration  for  his  exploit  poured 
in  upon  Brooks,  day  after  day,  and  he  was 
soon  in  possession  of  a  dozen  choice  and 
costly  canes,  the  gifts  of  friends  in  South 
Carolina  and  elsewhere,  in  place  of  the 
gutta  percha  weapon  which  was  broken  to 
pieces  in  the  blows  dealt  upon  the  head  of 
Senator  Sumner.  These  presentation 
canes  were  all  elegantly  mounted  with 
silver  or  gold,  and  bore  commemorative 
inscriptions  ;  they  were  also  very  solid  and 
and  heavy,  one  blow  from  either  of  them, 
in  the  hands  of  so  powerful  an  assailant  as 
Brooks,  would  finish  a  man  of  ordinary 
thickness  of  skull.  The  one  which  he 
most  prized,  was  of  massive  live  oak,  silver- 
looped,  and  inscribed  with  a  grateful  trib- 
ute from  the  northern  shipmasters  doing 
business  in  Charleston,  S.  C. 

In  due  time,  the  committee  of  investiga- 
tion appointed  by  the  senate  made  a  report, 
but  the  only  action  taken  by  that  body 
was  to  transmit  a  message  to  the  house, 
complaining  that  Mr.  Brooks,  one  of  its 
members,  had  made  a  violent  assault  upon 
Senator  Sumner,  but  that,  as  Mr.  Brooks 
was  a  member  of  the  house  of  representa- 
tives, the  latter  alone  had  the  power  to 
arrest,  try,  and  punish  him.  In  the  debate 
in  the  senate,  on  the  committee's  report, 
there  was  much  excitement.  Notwith- 
standing it  was  known  to  all,  that  Mr. 
Sumner  was  confined  to  his  bed,  in  intense 
suffering,  Senator  Butler,  of  South  Caro- 
lina, said,  among  other  things,  that,  "  had 
he  been  in  Washington,  he  should  have 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMMER,  BY  BROOKS. 


443 


assumed  all  the  responsibility  taken  by  his 
gallant  relative.  Mr.  Brooks  assaulted 
Mr.  Sumner  with  no  other  purpose  than 
to  disgrace  him.  Mr.  Brooks  was  one  of 
the  best  tempered  lellows,  though  impetu- 
ous, no  doubt,  and  quick  at  resentment. 
Mr.  Sumner  received  two  flesh  wounds, 
and,  being  rather  handsome,  did  not  just 
now  expose  himself.  If  he  had  been  in 
the  army,  and  had  not  gone  out  the  next 
day  after  the  fracas,  he  would  have  de- 
served to  be  cashiered.  On  some  accounts 
it  was  fortunate  he  (Butler)  was  not  here 


ous,  Mr.  Butler  exclaimed  from  his  seat, 
"  You  are  a  liar." 

Brooks  immediately  challenged  Mr.  Wil- 
son to  mortal  combat,  for  having  thus 
characterized  the  assault,  which  challenge 
Mr.  Wilson  declined  to  accept,  on  the 
ground  that  "dueling  is  a  relic  of  bar- 
barous civilization,  which  the  law  of 
the  country  has  branded  as  crime,"  and 
preferring  to  throw  himself  on  "  the 
right  of  self-defense,  in  its  broadest 
sense."  Mr.  Burlingame  was  also  chal- 
lenged by  Brooks,  and  the  latter  imme- 


ASSATTLT  ON  SENATOR  8PMXER,  BY  P.  8.  BROOKS. 


at  the  time,  for  he  did  not  know  what  he 
might  have  done.  To  be  sure,  it  was 
thirty  or  forty  years  since  he  had  been 
engaged  in  a  personal  conflict,  and  his 
hand  was  out  of  practice,  but  he  did  not 
know  but  he  might  have  had  a  trial  at 
him.  One  thing  he  had  no  doubt  of, 
namely,  if  he  (Butler)  were  a  young  man, 
he  would  have  left  him  (Sumner)  in  a 
worse  condition  than  he  is  noiv."  In  re- 
sponse to  Senator  Wilson's  denunciation 
of  the  act  as  brutal,  cowardly,  and  murder- 


diately  agreed  to  meet  him,  but  other 
parties  interposing,  hostile  proceedings 
were  stopped.  Both  northern  and  south, 
ern  senators  went  armed  constantly,  and 
there  was  a  "reign  of  terror"  in  the 
capital  of  the  nation.  Being  complained 
of,  in  one  of  the  criminal  courts  of  the 
city  for  assault  and  battery,  in  his  attack 
on  Mr.  Sumner,  Brooks  appeared  before 
the  judge,  made  an  elaborate  speech  in 
vindication  of  his  course,  waived  a  trial, 
asked  for  judgment,  and,  on  the  judge 


444 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNER,  BY  BROOKS. 


imposing  a  fine  of  three  hundred  dollars, 
paid  it  on  the  spot. 

The  committee  of  investigation  ap- 
pointed by  the  house  of  representatives 
reported  resolutions  of  expulsion  against 
Brooks,  and  censure  against  Keitt  and 
Edmundson.  The  resolution  to  expel 
Brooks  received,  after  a  violent  debate,  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  votes,  and  there 
were  ninety-five  votes  in  the  negative  ;  a 
two-thirds  vote  being  required  to  expel  a 
member,  the  resolution  failed.  The  reso- 
lution of  censure  passed.  Mr.  Hoffman, 
of  Maryland,  was  the  only  southern  mem- 
ber who  voted  to  expel  Brooks. 

Brooks,  however,  stung  by  the  rebuke 
conveyed  by  the  vote  of  a  majority  of  the 
house,  made  a  speech  of  coarse  defiance,  in 
which  he  said,  "  If  I  desired  to  kill  the 
senator  from  Massachusetts,  why  did  I  not 
do  it  ?  You  all  admit  that  I  had  it  in  my 
power.  Let  me  tell  you,  that,  expressly  to 
prevent  taking  life,  I  used  an  ordinary 
cane  presented  by  a  friend  in  Baltimore. 
I  went  to  the  senate  deliberately.  I  hesi- 
tated whether  I  should  use  a  horsewhip  or 
a  cowhide,  but  knowing  that  the  strength 
of  the  senator  from  .Massachusetts  was 
superior  to  mine,  I  thought  he  might  wrest 
it  from  me.  If  he  had,  I  might  have  done 
what  I  should  have  regretted  for  the  re- 
mainder of  my  life.  (A  voice  :  He  would 
have  killed  him  /)  Ten  days  ago,  foresee- 
ing what  the  action  of  the  house  would  be, 
my  resignation  was  put  into  the  hands  of 
the  governor  of  South  Carolina.  And 
now,  Mr.  Speaker,  I  announce  to  you  and  to 
the  house,  I  am  no  longer  a  member  of  the 
thirty-fourth  congress."  Senators  Butler 
and  Mason  sat  near  Brooks  during  the 
delivery  of  his  speech  —  of  the  tone  of 
which  the  preceding  brief  sentences  afford 
some  idea, — and  were  quite  merry  over  it. 
Mr.  Brooks  retired  amid  the  applause  of 
the  south  gallery,  which  was  filled  with 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  and,  upon  reaching 
the  lobby,  was  embraced  and  showered 
with  kisses  by  the  ladies. 

Returning  home  to  South  Carolina, 
Brooks  was  feted  and  feasted,  and  made 
the  recipient  of  every  possible  mark  of 


honor  and  admiring  gratitude.  An  elec- 
tion was  soon  held  to  fill  the  vacancy 
caused  by  his  resignation,  and  he  was 
elected  by  a  unanimous  vote.  Once  more, 


PRESTON   S.   BROOKS. 


namely,  on  the  eighth  of  January,  1857, 
he  made  a  characteristic  speech  on  the 
floor  of  congress,  against  the  prohibition 
of  slavery  in  Nebraska.  But  his  career 
was  suddenly  terminated,  on  the  twenty- 
seventh  of  the  same  month.  His  sickness 
was  brief — inflammation  of  the  throat — 
and  he  expired  in  terrible  pain.  In  the 
intensity  of  his  sufferings  from  strangula- 
tion, he  endeavored  to  tear  open  his  throat, 
that  he  might  get  breath.  He  was  but 
thirty-eight  years  old,  and  left  a  wife  and 
four  children.  His  frame  was  pronounced, 
by  the  undertaker,  the  largest  for  which 
he  had  ever  been  called  upon  to  furnish  a 
coffin. 

Only  four  months  after  the  decease  of 
Brooks,  Senator  Butler  died  at  Edgefield 
court-house,  S.  C.,  in  the  sixty-first  year 
of  his  age.  Keitt  met  his  death  during 
the  war  of  the  rebellion,  he  being  at  the 
time  an  officer  in  the  confederate  army. 

From  the  very  first,  Mr.  Sumner's  con- 
dition was  critical  in  the  extreme,  so  much 
so,  that  his  physicians  considered  the 
chances  to  be  against  his  recovery,  and 
visitors  were  peremptorily  forbidden  to  see 
him.  His  head  and  the  glands  of  the 
neck  became  swollen,  the  cuts  soon  ulcer- 
ated, and  there  was  a  constant  torturing 
pain  in  the  head.  An  appearance  of  ery- 
sipelas presented  itself,  a  form  of  inflam- 
mation greatly  to  be  dreaded.  As  soon  as 
he  could  be  removed  with  safety,  he  was 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNER,  BY  BROOKS. 


445 


carried  into  the  country,  remaining  for 
some  time  under  the  hospitable  roof  of 
Hon.  F.  P.  Blair;  at  Silver  Spring.  In 
the  spring  of  1857,  he  went  to  Europe  by 
the  advice  of  his  physicians,  and  there 
passed  some  months,  returning  in  the 
autumn,  with  a  view  to  engaging  in  his 
public  duties. 

Undervaluing,  however,  the  seriousness 
of  his  condition,  Mr.  Sumner's  anticipa- 
tions of  active  usefulness  were  not  to  be 
go  speedily  realized.  At  the  time  of  the 
assault  upon  him,  he  failed  to  comprehend 
the  full  extent  and  peculiar  nature  of  the 
injury  received,  and  continued  to  cherish, 
from  the  outset,  the  constant  hope  of  an 
early  restoration  to  sound  health.  But 
the  spring  of  1858  found  him  still  in  such 
impaired  health,  as  to  necessitate  another 
visit  to  Europe,  principally  with  a  view  to 
the  curative  influences  of  travel,  exercise 
in  the  open  air,  and  absence  from  political 
excitement.  At  Paris,  he  met  Dr.  George 
Hayward,  the  eminent  Boston  surgeon, 
who  at  once  urged  'active  treatment' — 
that  is,  the  application  of  a  system  of 
counter-irritants,  in  order  to  reach  the 
malady  in  the  cerebral  system  and  in  the 
spine.  With  the  sanction  of  Doctor  Hay- 
ward,  Mr.  Sumner  then  put  himself  in  the 
hands  of  Doctor  Brown-Sequard,  the  cele- 
brated physiologist,  so  well  known,  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  for  his  suc- 
cess in  diseases  of  the  spine  and  nervous 
system. 

A  careful  and  acute  investigation  of  Mr. 
Sumner's  case,  by  this  eminent  surgeon, 
resulted  in  ascertaining  that,  though  the 
brain  itself  was  free  from  any  serious 
remaining  injury,  the  effects  of  the  origi- 
nal commotion  there  were  still  manifest  in 
an  effusion  of  liquid  about  the  brain  and 
in  a  slight  degree  of  congestion,  chiefly 
confined  to  the  membrane  around  the 
brain ;  it  was  also  found  that  the  spine 
was  suffering  in  two  places  from  the  effect 
of  what  is  called  contre-cowp.  Mr.  Sumner 
being  seated  and  inclined  over  his  desk  at 
the  time  of  the  assault,  the  blows  on  his 
head  took  effect  by  counter-stroke,  or  com- 
municated shock  in  the  spine.  Doctor 


Brown-Sequard  agreed  with  Doctor  Hay- 
ward,  as  to  the  necessity  of  an  active  treat- 
ment, doubting  very  much  whether  any  de- 
gree of  care  or  lapse  of  time,  unless  the  mor- 
bid condition  of  the  system  were  directly 
acted  upon,  would  not  always  leave  the  pa- 
tient exposed  to  a  relapse.  He  proceeded, 
therefore,  at  once,  to  apply  fire  to  the  back 
of  the  neck  and  along  the  spine.  "  I  have 
applied  " — writes  M.  Sequard  to  a  friend, 
at  this  time  —  "six  moxas  to  Senator 
Sumner's  neck  and  back,  and  he  has  borne 
these  exceedingly  painful  applications  with 
the  greatest  courage  and  patience.  You 
know  that  a  'moxa'  is  a  burning  of  the 
skin  with  inflamed  agaric  (amadou?)  cot- 
ton wool,  or  some  other  very  combustible 
substance.  I  had  never  seen  a  man  bear- 
ing with  such  a  fortitude  as  Mr.  Sumner 
has  shown,  the  extremely  violent  pain  of 
this  kind  of  burning."  The  recovery,  by 
Mr.  Sumner,  of  his  general  health,  from 
the  original  shock,  was  due  to  what  his 
English  and  French  physicians  called  the 
wonderful  recuperative  energies  of  his 
constitution  and  to  a  remarkable  power  of 
resistance  to  injury.  It  was  this,  too,  in 
alliance  with  his  untouched  vigor  of  will, 
that  enabled  Mr.  Sumner  to  bear  the  moxa 
without  the  chloroform  which  Doctor  Se- 
quard recommended,  and  without  the 
shrinking  which  the  doctor  expected. 

This  severe  medical  treatment  was  suc- 
ceeded by  that  of  baths  and  other  reme- 
dial resorts.  In  a  letter  written  by  Mr. 
Sumner,  in  September,  1858,  he  says: 
"  My  life  is  devoted  to  my  health.  I  wish 
that  I  could  say  that  I  am  not  still  an 
invalid ;  but,  except  when  attacked  by  the 
pain  in  my  chest,  I  am  now  comfortable, 
and  enjoy  my  baths,  my  walks,  and  the 
repose  and  incognito  which  I  find  here.  I 
begin  the  day  with  douches,  hot  and  cold, 
and  when  thoroughly  exhausted,  am 
wrapped  in  sheet  and  blanket,  and  con- 
veyed to  my  hotel  and  laid  on  my  bed. 
After  my  walk,  I  find  myself  obliged  again 
to  take  to  my  bed,  for  two  hours  before 
dinner.  But  this  whole  treatment  is  in 
pleasant  contrast  with  the  protracted  suf- 
ferings from  fire  which  made  my  summer 


446 


ASSAULT  ON   SUMNER,  BY  BEOOKS. 


a  torment.  And  yet  I  fear  that  I  must 
return  again  to  that  treatment.  It  is  with 
a  pang  unspeakable  that  I  find  myself  thus 
arrested  in  the  labors  of  life  and  in  the 
duties  of  my  position."  It  was  not  until 
the  autumn  of  1859,  that  Mr.  Sumner  was 
sufficiently  restored  in  health,  to  justify 
him  in  returning  home  and  resuming  his 
seat  in  the  senate. 

Though  originally  elected  to  the  United 
States  senate  by  a  majority  of  only  one 
vote,  in  a  legislature  composed  of  several" 
hundred  members, — and  not  even  then 


until  after  many  and  wearisome  ba'lotings, 
running  through  several  weeks, — L-e  was 
almost  unanimously  re-elected  in  1857 ; 
again,  in  1863,  with  but  few  dissentient 
votes;  and  again,  in  1869,  with  similar 
unanimity; — making  a  period  of  twenty- 
four  consecutive  years,  and  by  which  he 
became  "  the  Father  of  the  Senate,"  in 
point  of  protracted  official  service.  He 
died,  in  office,  in  1874.  The  fame  of  his 
career,  as  statesman,  orator,  and  philan- 
thropist, may  be  said  to  be  world-wide. 
Such  are  time's  impressive  changes. 


LV. 

TERRIBLE    CRISIS    IN    THE    BUSINESS    AND    FINANCIAL 

WORLD.— 1857. 


Known  as  "  the  Great  Panic."— A  Sudden,  Universal  Crash  in  the  Height  of  Prosperity.— Caused  by 
Wild  Speculations  and  Enormous  Debt. — Suspension  of  Banks  all  Over  the  Country. — Failure  of  the 
Oldest  and  Wealthiest  Houses — Fortunes  Swept  Away  in  a  Day. — Prostration  of  Every  Branch  of 
Industry.— Prolonged  Embarrassment,  Distrust,  and  Suffering — The  Panic  of  1837  a  Comparison  — 
Extravagance  and  High  Prices. — Chimerical  Railroad  Schemes. — Mania  for  Land  Investments  — 
Reckless  Stock  Gambling. — Western  Paper  Cities  — Fabulous  Prices  for  "  Lots." — Money  Absorbed 
in  this  Way. — Bursting  of  the  Bubble.— The  First  Great  Blow. — A  Bomb  in  Money  Circles. — Wide- 
spread Shock  and  Terror. — Fierce  Crowds  at  the  Banks. — A  Run  Upon  Them  for  Specie. — They 
"  Go  to  the  Wall." — Savings  Bank  Excitement. — Kare  Doings  at  the  Counters. — Wit,  Mirth,  Despair, 
and  Kuin. — Forty  Thousand  Persons  in  Wall  Street. — Factories,  Foundries,  etc.,  Stopped. — Business 
Credit  Destroyed.— Root  of  the  Whole  Difficulty. 


••  Th«  matt  eitraordinary,  violent,  and  destructive  panic  ever  experienced  in  thlf  country."— GlBBOIts'8  HISTOHT  or  BAKES  AID 
BANKING. 


BON  ON  A  BANK. 


I  ANY  persons  will  recall,  even  at  this 
remote  lapse  of  time,  the  terrible  com- 
mercial and  business  revulsion  which 
preceded,  by  just  a  score  of  years,  that  more  general  and  calamitous  one  of  1857, — the 
latter  being  universally  known  to  this  day  as  "  the  Great  Panic."  During  the  firsts 
named,  every  bank  in  the  Union  failed  and  suspended  specie  payment,  with  a  compar- 
atively few  exceptions.  Extravagance  pervaded  all  classes  of  society,  and  so  general 
and  feverish  was  the  excitement  in  western  lands'  speculation,  that  men  grasped  at 
'  lots '  in  that  boundless  and  then  almost  untracked  region,  as  if  the  supply  was  about 
to  be  exhausted.  Indeed,  the  picture  is  but  slightly  if  at  all  overdrawn,  which  repre- 
sents the  land  mania  of  that  period  as  swallowing  up,  in  its  mad  whirl,  all  classes. 
The  "  man  of  one  idea "  was  visible  everywhere ;  no  man  had  two.  He  who  had  no 
money  begged,  borrowed,  or  stole  it ;  he  who  had,  thought  he  made  a  generous  sacri- 
fice, if  he  lent  it  cent  per  cent.  The  tradesman  forsook  his  shop  ;  the  farmer  his 


448 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


plough ;  the  merchant  his  counter ;  the 
lawyer  his  office ;  the  clergyman  his  study 
— to  join  the  general  cbase.  The  man 
with  one  leg,  or  he  that  had  none,  could 
at  least  get  on  board  a  steamer,  and  make 
for  Chicago  or  Milwaukee;  the  strong,  the 
able,  but  above  all,  the  "enterprising," 
set  out  with  his  pocket  map  and  his  pocket 
compass,  to  thread  the  dim  woods,  and  see 
with  his  own  eyes, — for  who  could  be  so 
demented  as  to  waste  time  in  planting,  in 
building,  in  hammering  iron,  in  making 
shoes,  when  the  path  of  wealth  lay  wide 
and  flowery  before  him  !  A  ditcher,  hired 
by  the  job  to  do  a  certain  piece  of  work  in 
his  line,  was  asked — 

"  Well,  John,  did  you  make  anything  ?  " 

"Pretty  well;  I  cleared  about  ten  dol- 
lars a  day,  but  I  could  have  made  more  by 
standin'  round" — that  is,  watching  the 
land  market,  for  bargains. 

The  host  of  travelers  on  their  western 
speculating  tours  met  with  many  difficul- 
ties, as  might  be  supposed.  Such  search- 
ing among  trees  for  town  lines ! — such 
ransacking  of  the  woods  for  section  cor- 
ners, ranges,  and  base  lines! — such  anxious 
care  in  identifying  spots  possessing  "  par- 
ticular advantages!"  And  then,  alas! 
after  all,  such  precious  blunders,  —  blun- 
ders which  called  into  action  another  class 
of  operators,  who  became  popularly  known 
as  "  land  lookers."  These  were  plentiful 
at  every  turn,  ready  to  furnish  "  water- 
power,"  "pine  lots,"  or  anything  else,  at 
a  moment's  notice.  It  was  impossible  to 
mention  any  part  of  the  country  which 
they  had  not  "personally  surveyed." 
They  would  state,  with  the  gravity  of 
astrologers,  what  sort  of  timber  predomi- 
nated ou  any  given  tract,  drawing  sage 
deductions  as  to  the  capabilities  of  the 
soil !  Did  the  purchaser  incline  to  city 
property  ?  Lo  !  a  splendid  chart,  setting 
forth  the  advantages  of  some  unequaled 
site. 

But  at  last  this  bubble  burst — thousands 
of  fortunes  vanished  into  thin  air — the 
crisis  and  the  panic  came  like  a  whirl- 
wind. 

Similar  was  the  state  of  things  preced- 


ing the  awful  crash  in  1857.  The  times 
were  characterized  by  excessive  debts  and 
almost  incredible  extravagance  and  specu- 
lations. The  cities,  and  many  parts  of  the 
country,  were  drained  of  means  for  legiti- 
mate purposes,  being  devoted,  instead,  to 
the  construction  of  unproductive  railroads, 
or  absorbed  in  western  land  speculations. 
The  new  territories,  and  some  parts  of  th» 
western  states,  were  almost  covered  with 
paper  cities,  selling  to  the  credulous  at 
almost  fabulous  prices.  In  Kansas  alone, 
where  scarcely  one  legal  title  had  as  yet 
been  granted,  there  were  more  acres  laid 
out  for  cities,  than  were  covered  by  all  the 
cities  in  the  northern  and  middle  states. 
Nearly  the  whole  west  swarmed  with  spec- 
ulators, who  neither  intended  to  cultivate 
the  soil  nor  settle  there,  but  who  expected 
to  realize  fortunes,  without  labor,  out  of 
the  bona  fide  settler.  Lots  in  "cities," 
where  was  scarcely  a  house,  were  sold  to 
the  inexperienced  and  the  unwarj',  at 
prices  equaling  those  in  the  large  cities. 
These  operations,  with  others  of  a  similarly 
chimerical  character,  made  money  scarce 
everywhere,  and  diverted  thousands  of 
men,  and  much  of  the  capital  of  the  coun- 
try, from  the  business  of  producing, — 
tending,  of  course,  to  extravagant  prices 
of  food. 

But  the  omens  of  disaster  began  to  cast 
their  spectral  shadows  athwart  the  finan- 
cial sky,  the  first  manifestation  being  a 
regular  decline  in  the  value  of  leading 
railroad  stocks,  especially  the  western 
roads.  But  the  first  great  blow  to  public 
confidence  was  given  by  the  unexpected 
failure,  in  August,  of  the  Ohio  Life  Insur- 
ance and  Trust  Company.  The  magni- 
tude and  importance  of  the  operations  of 
this  institution  throughout  the  country, 
amounting  to  millions  of  dollars,  and  in- 
volving so  many  individuals  and  corporar 
tions,  rendered  its  suspension  a  fearful 
disaster.  The  announcement  fell  like  a 
bomb  in  the  money  circles,  and,  by  the 
first  or  second  week  of  September,  banks 
and  business  houses  began  to  stop  pay- 
ment, and  a  panic  ensued,  which  became 
almost  universal  during  the  month.  Th« 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


best  mercantile  paper  was  at  a  discount  of 
from  three  to  five  per  cent,  a  month. 
Toward  the  close  of  the  month  three  of 
the  leading  banks  of  Philadelphia  failed, 
and  the  remainder  resolved  upon  a  tempo- 
rary suspension  of  specie  payments.  This 
was  followed  by  a  similar  step  on  the  part 
of  most  of  the  banks  of  Pennsylvania, 
Maryland,  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
New  Jersey. 

No  such  intense  excitement  had  ever 
before  prevailed  in  Philadelphia,  as  that 
which  reigned  when  the  bank  of  Pennsyl- 


being  nearly  two  million  dollars.  Very 
early  on  the  same  day,  the  Girard  and 
Commercial  banks  ceased  paying  their  de- 
posits, but  continued  to  pay  their  bills. 
Checks  were  marked  good  and  returned  to 
the  holders.  After  three  o'clock,  the  city 
was  full  of  all  sorts  of  rumors,  and,  at  a 
meeting  of  the  bank  presidents,  a  universal 
suspension  was  agreed  upon.  These  tid- 
ings became  rapidly  known  throughout  the 
towns  and  villages  of  the  state,  and  the 
next  morning  a  vast  number  of  anxious 
people  flocked  into  the  city  by  steam-boat 


EXCITEMENT  IN  BUSINESS  CIRCLES  DURING  THE  CHEAT  PANIC. 


vania  closed  its  doors.  Crowds  of  people 
poured  into  Third  street  from  the  distant 
extremities  of  the  city,  and  the  street 
became  a  perfect  jam,  everybody  who  had 
any  money  in  those  banks  which  had  not 
yet  stopped  specie  payment,  being  in  haste 
to  obtain  their  dues.  Prom  this  vast  mass 
of  people  there  radiated  lines  reaching  to 
the  counters  of  all  the  banks,  demanding 
coin  for  bills  and  deposits ;  and  all  the 
various  applicants,  as  they  presented  them- 
selves, received  their  money,  and  retired 
in  good  order.  This  scene  continued  until 
the  hour  of  closing,  the  amount  of  coin 

thus  paid  out,  from  eleven,  to  three  o'clock, 
29 


and  railroad.  As  if  unwilling  to  believe 
the  unwelcome  news,  they  gathered  in 
crowds  opposite  the  various  banks,  pa- 
tiently awaiting  the  hour  for  openinrr. 
All  appeared  bent  on  getting  coin  for  tht-Ir 
checks  and  bills.  At  ten  o'clock  the  doors 
opened,  police  officers  being  everywhere 
about,  to  preserve  order.  Each  customer 
went  up  in  turn,  presented  his  check,  and 
had  it  marked  good;  while  such  as  held 
bills  were  told  that  the  redemption  of  them 
in  specie  was  temporarily  suspended. 

And  now,  all  over  the  land,  east,  west, 
north,  and  south,  the  dark  days  of  fear, 
alarm,  and  ruin,  settled  down  upon  the 


45C 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


people,  and  panic  raged  like  a  pestilence. 
Indeed,  tiie  extent  of  the  crash  far  ex- 
ceeded what  it  would  have  been,  but  for 
the  shock  and  terror  which  so  needlessly 
possessed  men's  minds  at  the  instant,  and 
unbalanced  their  judgment.  Universal 
distrust  prevailed — a  loss  of  that  mutual 
confidence  between  man  and  man,  without 
which,  the  foundations  of  mercantile  credit 
are  washed  away  as  so  much  sand,  but 
with  which,  temporary  difficulties,  even 
though  stringent,  may  be  surmounted,  and 
total  ruin  to  individuals  and  the  public 
prevented.  No  more  fitting  illustration  of 
the  working  of  this  principle  of  confidence 
could  be  cited,  in  sustaining  or  overturn- 
ing the  steadiness  of  business  affairs,  than 
the  anecdote  of  the  little  Frenchman  who 
loaned  a  merchant  five  thousand  dollars, 
when  times  were  good,  but  who  called  at 
the  counting-house  on  the  times  becoming 
"  hard,"  in  a  state  of  agitation  only  faintly 
portrayed  in  the  following  hasty  colloquy 
which  ensued : 

"How  do  you  do?"  inquired  the  mer- 
chant, as  the  French  creditor  presented 
himself  at  the  counter. 

"  Sick — ver  sick," — replied  monsieur/ 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  De  times  is  de  matter." 

"  De  times  ? — what  disease  is  that  ?  " 

"  De  malaide  vat  break  all  de  marchants, 
ver  much." 

"Ah— the  times,  eh?  Well,  they  are 
bad,  very  bad,  sure  enough ;  but  how  do 
they  affect  you  ?  " 

"Vy,  monsieur,  I  lose  de  confidence." 

"In  whom?" 

"In  everybody." 

"Not  in  me,  I  hope?" 

"Pardonnez  moi,  monsieur;  but  I  do 
not  know  who  to  trust  a  present,  when  all 
de  marchants  break  several  times,  all  to 
pieces." 

"Then  I  presume  you  want  your 
money." 

"Oui,  monsieur,  I  starve  for  want  of 
P argent"  (the  silver). 

"Can't  you  do  without  it  ?" 

"No,  monsieur,  I  must  have  him." 

"You  must?" 


"Oui,  monsieur,"  said  little  dimity 
breeches,  turning  pale  with  apprehension 
for  the  safety  of  his  money. 

"  And  you  can't  do  without  it  ?  " 

"No,  monsieur,  not  von  other  leetle 
moment  longare." 

The  merchant  reached  his  bank  book, 
drew  a  check  on  the  good  old  '  Continen- 
tal '  for  the  amount,  and  handed  it  to  his 
visitor. 

"  Vat  is  dis,  monsieur  ?  " 

"  A  check  for  five  thousand  dollars,  with 
the  interest." 

"  Is  it  Ion  ?  "  (good,)  said  the  French- 
man, with  amazement. 

"Certainly." 

"  Have  you  I' 'argent  in  de  bank  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"And  is  it  parfaitement  convenient  to 
pay  de  same  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly !  What  astonishes  you  ?  " 

"Vy,  dat  you  have  got  him  in  dees 
times." 

"Oh,  yes,  and  I  have  plenty  more.  I 
owe  nothing  that  I  cannot  pay  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice." 

The  Frenchman  was  perplexed. 

"Monsieur,  you  shall  do  me  von  leetle 
favor,  eh  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart." 

"Well,  monsieur,  you  shall  keep  V ar- 
gent for  me  some  leetle  year  longare." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  wanted  it!" 

"  Tnnt  au  coutraire.  I  no  vant  de 
argent.  I  vant  de  grand  confidence. 
Suppose  you  no  got  de  money,  den  I  vant 
him  ver  much — suppose  you  got  him,  den 
I  no  vant  him  at  all.  Vous  comprenez, 
eh  ?  " 

After  some  further  conference,  the  little 
chatterer  prevailed  upon  the  merchant  to 
retain  the  money,  and  left  the  counting- 
house  with  a  light  heart,  and  a  counte- 
nance very  different  from  the  one  he  wore 
when  he  entered.  His  confidence  was 
restored — he  did  not  stand  in  need  of  the 
money. 

The  banks  of  New  York  and  New 
England  remained  firm,  far  into  the  month 
of  October,  but  so  rapid  and  numberless 
were  the  failures,  each  succeeding  day,  of 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


451 


railroad  and  other  corporations,  and  busi- 
ness houses  which  had — some  of  them — 
breasted  all  the  financial  storms  of  the  last 
half  century,  that  these  were  finally  obliged 
to  succumb  to  the  avalanche  of  pressure, 
and  fell  into  the  vortex  of  universal  sus- 
pension. Tuesday,  the  thirteenth  of  Octo- 
ber, the  day  preceding  the  suspension,  was 
the  climax  of  the  struggle,  and  "Wall 
street,  New  York,  as  the  great  center  of 
money  operations  in  the  United  States, 
presented  a  scene  of  wild  excitement  never 
before  witnessed. 

The  account  of  that  scene,  as  given  by 
the  reporter  for  the  Tribune,  is  here  in 
part  reproduced.  At  ten  o'clock  in  the 


was  hurriedly  dashed  off  at  its  foot,  and  in 
another  moment  it  was  on  its  way  to  the 
bank. 

The  crowd  increased  in  numbers.  Each 
person  took  his  place  in  the  line  and 
awaited  his  turn,  while  policemen  kept 
those  out  who  were  present  only  from 
motives  of  curiosity.  One  after  another 
was  paid,  and  with  the  shining  treasure 
departed.  Scores  of  hands,  skilled  by  long 
experience  in  counting  coin,  were  taxed  to 
their  utmost  in  their  efforts  to  keep  pace 
with  the  demand  for  gold.  Altogether, 
the  scene  presented  was  one  of  the  wildest 
excitement.  Thirty  to  forty  thousand 
persons  were  at  the  same  moment  in  the 


EFFECTS   OF  THE   HABD  TIMES. 


morning,  says  that  journal,  the  fronts  of 
the  different  institutions  indicated,  by  the 
crowds  gathered  around  them,  that  the 
ability  of  the  vaults  to  yield  up  their  treas- 
ure at  the  call  of  depositors  and  bill-hold- 
ers was  to  undergo  no  ordinary  test. 
Check  after  check  was  presented  and  paid, 
and  still  they  came.  "Word  soon,  went 
forth  that  a  run  had  commenced  on  the 
banks,  and  it  passed  from  one  house  to 
another  until  the  whole  lower  part  of  the 
city  was  alive  with  excitement.  Bank 
books  were  examined;  but  a  moment  was 
required  to  prepare  a  check — a  signature 


street — some  rushing  onward  in  the  hope 
to  secure  their  deposits  before  the  hour  of 
closing  should  arrive,  and  others  clustered 
together,  discussing  the  condition  of  af- 
fairs. One  after  another  of  the  announce- 
ments made,  of  banks  failing  under  the 
continued  drain  upon  them,  fell  with  dis- 
may among  the  crowd,  and  confident  pre- 
dictions were  uttered  that  ten  o'clock  of 
Wednesday  would  tell  the  story  of  the 
suspension  of  all.  But  not  a  few  there 
were,  whose  belief  in  the  ability  of  the 
moneyed  institutions  was  still  unshaken, 
and  they  asserted,  with  earnestness  that 


452 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


every  demand  in  checks  and  bills  would 
be  met  to  the  last,  and  Panic  be  laughed 
to  scorn. 

But,  with  all  the  anxiety  and  resolute- 
ness depicted  upon  so  many  countenances, 
there  were  those  who  laughed  and  cracked 
jokes  about  their  deposits  in  banks  which 
had  suspended,  and  about  their  stock  in 
smashed-up  railroads,  as  though  the  whole 
thing  were  a  huge  joke.  From  the  top  of 
Wall  street  to  the  bottom — from  Broad- 
way to  Water  street — the  sidewalks  were 
crowded  with  people,  desirous  to  know  the 
truth  of  the  rumors  which  filled  the  air. 

In  other  parts  of  the  city,  stirring 
scenes  were  transpiring,  and  not  a  few 
that  were  quite  illustrative  of  human 
nature  in  its  different  veins.  During  the 
run  upon  the  Bowery  Savings  Bank,  an 
old  Irishwoman,  short,  thick,  resolute,  and 
'a  little  in  for  it,'  made  herself  conspicu- 
ous by  elbowing  her  way  through  the  dis- 
trustful depositors,  very  unceremoniously, 
and  denouncing,  in  no  measured  terms, 
"  the  big  blackguards  that  would  be  af  ther 
chating  a  poor  body  out  iv  her  hard  earned 
wagis."  Some  order  of  precedence  is  cus- 
tomary at  such  times,  but  the  heavy  shoes 
of  the  Irishwoman  did  such  execution 
upon  the  corns  of  all  who  stood  in  her  way, 
that  she  soon  obtained  a  good  place  near 
the  door,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of 
a  dozen  or  two  of  younger  Biddys,  Mag- 
gies, Marys,  and  Kathleens,  who  had  been 
waiting  an  hour  or  two.  At  the  door,  she 
had  a  wordy  quarrel  with  a  broad-should- 
ered black  man  in  advance  of  her,  calling 
him  a  "runawiy  nagur;"  and  anon  she 
varied  her  performances  by  shaking  her 
fist  in  the  face  of  a  policeman — who,  as  an 
official  conservator  of  the  peace,  had  under- 
taken to  check  her, — and,  at  length,  very 
red  and  sweaty,  she  stood  before  the  pay- 
ing teller  and  presented  her  book,  with  a 
vocal  invocation  to  him  to  do  the  clean 
thing.  "  What's  this  mean  ?  "  said  he,  look- 
ing at  her  somewhat  impatiently.  "  What's 
your  name  ?"  "Can't  yoos  rade  writin' 
hand  ?  "  she  rejoined  sharply  ;  "  shure, 
me  nam's  on  the  book  !  "  "But  this,"  said 
he,  "  is  only  a  grocer's  old  pass  book ! 


What's  your  name,  I  say  ? "  "  Mary 
McRagan  I  was  christened,  but  I  married 
Pat  Millikens."  The  teller  turned  rapidly 
to  his  index  of  depositors.  "You  have 
got  no  money  in  this  bank  !  "  said  he,  when 
he  had  ascertained  the  fact.  She  left  the 
premises  in  company  with  an  officer,  to 
whom  she  confessed  that  she  had  found 
the  pass  book  near  the  crowd,  and  think- 
ing it  had  been  dropped  accidentally  by  a 
depositor,  she  had  thought  to  obtain  the 
money  before  the  depositor  applied  for  it. 
At  the  same  bank,  one  man  who  drew  out 
his  deposits  was  so  intoxicated  that  he 
could  hardly  stand ;  quite  likely,  he  lost 
the  savings  of  years  before  the  night  was 
over.  At  another  savings  bank,  one  poor 
girl  had  her  pocket  picked  of  her  little  all 
— about  seventy-seven  dollars,  before  she 
had  got  out  of  the  crowd.  A  vast  deal 
of  chaffing  occurred  among  those  who 
thronged  the  doorways  of  the  banks.  "  I 
don't  know,"  said  one  to  a  bystander, 
"  where  to  put  my  money  when  I  get  it ! " 
"Give  it  to  me,"  rejoined  the  other. 
"Sew  it  up  in  your  shirt,"  said  another; 
and  several  other  methods  were  promptly 
and  merrily  suggested  by  the  sj'mpathiz- 
ing  spectators,  such  as  "  Stick  it  in  your 
wig" — "Let  the  old  woman  have  it" — 
"  Put  it  in  your  I  jots,  and  let  me  wear 
them  ; "  etc. 

At  the  Sixpenny  Savings  Bank,  a  little 
newsboy,  without  a  jacket,  and  only  one 
suspender  (and  that  a  string),  confronted 
the  teller  on  Monday,  and  demanded  to 
know  whether  "  She  was  all  right " — 
meaning  the  Institution — because  if  she 
was,  he  didn't  mean  to  be  scared,  if  every- 
body else  was.  He'd  got  forty-two  cents 
salted  down  there,  and  all  he  wanted  was 
his  (the  teller's)  word  of  honor  that  it 
wouldn't  spile.  The  teller  assured  him 
that  his  money  was  ready  for  him  at  any 
moment.  "  'Nuff  said,  'tween  gen'Pmen, 
but  I  don't  want  it,"  rejoined  the  youth, 
and  with  a  self-complacent,  well-satisfied 
air,  walked  out  of  the  bank.  "Is  she 
good  ?  "  cried  two  or  three  other  news- 
boys who  were  awaiting  the  result,  at  the 
doorsteps.  "  Yes,  s-i-r-r-e-e ! "  he  replied, 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


453 


"as  good  as  wheat.  Ketch  our  bank  to 
stop !  Yoos  ought  to  seed  the  gold  I  seed 
in  der  safe  !  "  "  How  much  was  they  ?  " 
inquired  a  companion.  "  More'n  a  house- 
full  !  "  was  the  prompt  response,  "  an'  yoos 
don't  ketch  dis  'ere  chile  a-makin'  an  oold 
woman  of  his-self,  an'  drawin'  out  his 
money ;  I  ain't  so  green — I  ain't ! " 

It  will  require  but  little  strain  of  the 
imagination  to  realize,  to  one's  mind,  the 
case  of  Mrs.  Jones,  who,  on  receipt  of  the 
news  of  the  banks  suspending  specie  pay- 
ments, hastened  to  her  savings  bank, 
elbowed  her  way  smartly  to  the  desk,  pre- 
sented her  book,  and  demanded  her  money. 

"  Madam,"  said  the  clerk,  persuasively, 
"are  you  sure  you  want  to  draw  this 
money  out  in  specie  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Jones,"  said  a  director,  with  an 
oracular  frown,  "do  you  know  that  you 
are  injuring  your  fellow  depositors  ?  " 

"  And  setting  an  example  of  great  folly 
to  less  educated  persons  in  this  commu- 
nity ?  "  struck  in  another  director. 

"Let  us  advise  you  simply  to  reflect," 
interposed  the  clerk,  blandly. 

"  To  wait  for  a  day,  at  least,"  said  the 
director. 

At  last  there  was  a  pause. 

Mrs.  Jones  had  been  collecting  herself. 
She  burst  now.  In  a  tone  which  was 
heard  throughout  the  building,  and  above 
all  the  din  of  ordinary  business,  and  at 
which  her  questioners  turned  ashy  pale, 
she  said : 

"  Will  you  pay  me  my  money  ? — YES  or 
KO!" 

They  paid  her  instantly. 

Not  only  in  the  great  centers  of  business 
and  finance,  like  New  York,  Philadelphia, 
Boston,  Baltimore,  Cincinnati,  St.  Louis, 
and  New  Orleans,  but  in  every  town  and 
village,  the  scarcity  of  money  and  the 
failure  of  banks  and  commercial  houses, 
operated  to  paralyze  industry  and  bring 
want  to  thousands  of  families.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  universal  stoppage  of  facto- 
ries, the  poorer  classes  in  some  of  the  man- 
ufacturing communities  saw  winter  ap- 
proaching, with  no  prospect  of  earning  a 
livelihood.  Whole  families  began  to  suffer 


for  bread — the  fathers  willing  and  eager  ;« 
work,  but  absolutely  nothing  to  do.  Tales 
of  distress  were  to  be  heard  at  almost 
every  step,  for  the  factories,  forges,  and 
foundries,  had  all  ceased  their  cheerful 
hum  of  activity,  and  every  day's  intelli- 
gence from  different  parts  of  the  land  was 
that  of  fresh  accumulations  of  disaster, 
increasing  the  severity  of  the  situation, 
and  adding  to  the  general  gloom.  The 
oldest,  heaviest,  richest,  and  firmest  mon- 
eyed institutions,  corporations,  companies 
and  firms,  which  were  considered  equal  to 
any  pressure  that  might  be  brought  to 
bear  against  them,  were  daily  chronicled 
as  having  "  gone  to  the  wall."  Fortunes 
were  swept  away,  like  ashes  in  a  whirl- 
wind. Not  even  in  1837,  when  the  bank- 
ing system  of  the  country  was  in  so  preca- 
rious a  condition,  was  there  such  a  terrible 
downfall  of  old  and  wealthy  houses.  At 
the  west,  there  was  one  short,  tremendous 
collapse,  that  seemed  to  bring  ruin,  at  one 
quick  blow,  upon  everything  and  every- 
body ;  and  at  the  south,  the  devastation 
was  no  less  wide-spread  and  fatal. 

Various  means  were  resorted  to,  to  real- 
ize cash  for  stocks  of  goods  on  hand,  even 
at  a  ruinous  discount.  At  numberless  shop 
windows  were  to  be  seen  in  staring  letters, 
such  announcements  as :  '  These  goods 
sold  at  wholesale  prices.'  'Selling  off  at 
half  cost.'  '  Bargains  to  be  had  for  two 
days — now  or  never  ! '  '  We  must  realize 
ten  thousand  dollars  to-day,  at  any  sacri- 
fice ; '  etc.  Indeed,  in  all  the  large  cities, 
the  dry  goods  dealers,  being  severely 
pressed  for  money,  offered  their  goods  in 
this  way,  and  effected  large  sales.  A  large 
number  of  the  most  prominent  wholesale 
dealers  threw  open  their  vast  warehouses 
to  retail  customers,  and  by  this  means, 
probably,  not  a  few  houses,  of  that  class, 
managed  to  escape  the  hard  fate  that  befell 
others. 

Thus,  in  a  word,  there  was  exhibited 
the  melancholy  spectacle  of  a  great  nation's 
commercial,  fii  uncial,  manufacturing,  and 
industrial  interests  in  utter  ruin,  from  one 
end  of  the  broad  land  to  the  other  ;  pros- 
perity succeeded  by  abject  adversity  ;  con- 


454 


THE  GKEAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


ficlence  supplanted  by  total  distrust;  a 
paralysis  of  all  trade ;  the  stoppage  of 
almost  every  bank  in  every  part  of  the 
United  States,  the  cessation  of  factories, 
the  discharge  of  thousands  of  laborers,  the 
inability  to  bring  our  large  crops  of  prod- 
uce to  market,  the  ruinous  rate  of  two  or 
three  per  cent,  a  month  on  the  strongest 
paper,  and  a  ruinous  depreciation  in  the 
price  of  all  stocks.  The  steamers  on  the 
great  rivers  and  lakes  stood  still ;  the 
canal  boats  ceased  to  ply ;  the  railroad 
trains  conveyed  less  than  half  the  usual 
amount  of  travelers  and  merchandise  ;  the 
navigating  interest  shared  the  common 
distress,  so  that  the  cargoes,  brought  from 
abroad,  either  passed  into  the  public  stores, 
or  were  re-exported  at  great  loss ;  the 
freighting  business  was  nearly  annihilated. 
Alarmed,  too,  at  the  prospect  before  them, 
ship-loads  of  emigrants  were  taken  home 
to  their  native  land,  in  the  packets  run- 
ning from  Boston  and  New  York  to  Eu- 
rope. Nor  did  the  fortune-tellers  fail  to 
drive  a  brisk  business  in  informing  igno- 
rant and  credulous  inquirers  what  was  to 
"turn  up." 

That  this  great  national  calamity  had 
its  root  in  the  fever  for  land  and  railroad 
speculation,  involving  enormous  debt,  with 
no  corresponding  sound  basis  or  adequate 
means,  cannot  be  doubted.  Mr.  Gibbons, 
one  of  the  very  ablest  of  American  finan- 
cial writers,  argues,  in  respect  to  this 
point,  th5t,  notwithstanding  the  appear- 
ances of  prosperity  previous  to  the  panic, 
there  existed  all  the  conditions  of  extraor- 
dinary financial  disturbance.  A  prodig- 
ious weight  of  insolvency  had  been  carried 
along  for  years  in  the  volume  of  trade. 
Extravagance  of  living  had  already  sapped 
the  foundations  of  commercial  success,  in 
hundreds  of  instances  where  credit  sup- 
plied the  place  of  lost  capital.  Misman- 
agement and  fraud  had  gained  footing  in 
public  companies  to  an  incredible  degree  ; 
hundreds  of  millions  of  bonds  were  issued 
with  little  regard  to  the  validity  of  their 
basis,  and  pressed  upon  the  market  by  dis- 
honest agents,  at  any  price,  from  sixty 
down  to  thirty  cents  on  the  dollar.  False 


quotations  were  obtained  by  sham  auction 
sales.  The  newspaper  press,  in  particular 
instances,  was  bribed  into  silence,  or 
became  a  partner  in  the  profits  to  be 
derived  from  the  various  schemes  which  it 
commended  to  general  confidence.  The 
land  grants  by  congress  to  railway  compa- 
nies gave  added  impetus  to  speculation, 
and  state  legislatures  were  bribed  to  locate 
roads  to  serve  individual  interests.  Public, 
as  well  as  private  credit,  was  compromised. 
It  could  not  be  otherwise  than  that 
bankruptcy  and  an  overwhelming  crash 
should  succeed  such  an  inflated  and  preca- 
rious state  of  things.  Even  when  trade 
and  business  are  conducted  in  accordance 
with  fair  and  legitimate  rules,  the  records 
of  insolvency  among  American  merchants 
tell  a  woful  tale.  Thus,  General  Dearborn, 
who  for  twenty  years  was  collector  of  the 
port  of  Boston,  and  who  had  ample  oppor- 
tunities for  observing  the  vicissitudes  of 
trade,  ascertained,  on  investigation,  that 
among  every  hundred  of  the  merchants 
and  traders  of  that  city — whose  character 
for  carefulness  and  stability  will  compare 
favorably  with  that  of  merchants  in  any 
other  portion  of  the  land — not  more  than 
three  ever  acquired  an  independence. 
This  conclusion  was  not  arrived  at  without 
preat  distrust;  but  an  experienced  mer- 
chant, who  was  consulted,  fully  confirmed 
its  truth.  A  Boston  antiquarian  in  the 
year  1800  took  a  memorandum  of  every 
person  doing  business  on  Long  Wharf, 
and  in  1840  only  five  in  one  hundred 
remained  ;  all  but  these  had  either  failed 
or  died  insolvent.  The  Union  Bank  com- 
menced business  in  1798,  there  being  then 
only  one  other  bank.  The  Union  was 
overrun  with  business,  the  clerks  being 
obliged  to  work  till  midnight,  and  even  on 
Sundays.  An  examination,  some  fifty  or 
sixty  years  from  the  starting  of  the  bank, 
showed  that  of  one  thousand  accounts 
opened  at  the  commencement,  only  six 
remained  ;  all  the  others  had  either  failed, 
or  died  insolvent, — houses  whose  paper 
had  passed  without  question,  the  very  par- 
ties who  had  constituted  the  solid  men  of 
the  city,  all  had  gone  down  in  that  period. 


THE  GREAT  PANIC  OF  1857. 


455 


Of  the  direful  havoc,  therefore,  created  by 
a  sudden  and  violent  panic,  sweeping  over 
the  whole  country  like  a  hurricane,  some 
idea  may  be  formed  from  the  statistics 
here  given. 

Notwithstanding  the  resumption  of 
business  on  a  specie  basis,  in  about  two 
months  from  the  time  of  their  suspension, 


by  most  of  those  banks  which  were  in  a 
solvent  condition,  it  was  a  long  while 
before  trade  and  industry  recovered  from 
their  crippled  state ;  and  the  embarrass- 
ment and  suffering  which  consequently 
weighed,  during  so  protracted  a  period, 
upon  all  classes  of  the  community,  were 
painful  to  the  last  degree. 


LVI. 

THE  "GREAT  AWAKENING"  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD ; 

AND  THE  POPULAR  REVIVAL  MOVEMENT  (IN  1875-6) 

UNDER    MESSRS.    MOODY    AND    SANKEY.— 1857. 


like  a  Mighty  Rushing  Wind,  it  Sweeps  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.— Crowded  Prayer-Meetings 
Held  Daily  in  Every  City  and  Town,  from  the  Granite  Hills  of  the  North  to  the  Rolling  Prairies  of 
the  West  and  the  Golden  Slopes  of  California.— Large  Accessions,  from  all  Classes,  to  the  Churches 
of  Every  Name  and  Denomination. — The  "  American  Pentecost." — Early  American  Revivals.— Dr. 
Franklin  and  Mr.  Whitefield.— The  Revival  of  1857  Spontaneous.— No  Leaders  or  Organizers.— Its 
Immediate  Cause. — Universal  Ruin  of  Commerce. — Anxiety  for  Higher  Interests. — All  Days  of  the 
Week  Alike. — Business  Men  in  the  Work. — Telegraphing  Religious  Tidings. — New  York  a  Center 
of  Influence  — Fulton  Street  Prayer-Meeting. — Scenes  in  Burton's  Theater.— New  Themes  and  Actors. 
— Countless  Requests  for  Prayers. — A  Wonderful  Book. — Striking  Moral  Results.— Men  of  Violence 
Reformed.— Crime  and  Suicide  Prevented. — Infidels,  Gamblers,  Pugilists,— Jessie  Fremont's  Gold 
.— "  Awful "  Gardner's  Case. 


"  What  nothing  earthly  giwa,  or  ean  destroy, 
The  i-out's  calm  tuiuhme  and  the  heartfelt  joy." 


•  EVIVALS  of  religious  feeling 
and  interest,  attended  with 
great  numerical  accessions  to 
the  church,  have  been  not 
unfrequent  among  the  various 
denominations  of  Christians  in  Amer- 
ica, from  the  very  earliest  period  of  the 
country's  settlement;  and,  during  the 
eighteenth  century,  under  the  labors  of 
such  men  as  Whitefield,  Edwards,  the 
Tennents,  and  others,  such  results  fol- 
lowed as  had  never  before  characterized 
any  age  or  people.  The  labors  of 
Whitefield,  in  especial,  stirred  the  public  mind  to  its  depths,  and  reached  all  hearts. 
Even  Dr.  Franklin,  rationalist  though  he  was,  was  won  upon,  head,  heart,  and  pocket, 
by  the  power  of  this  mightiest  of  pulpit  orators.  Happening  to  attend  one  of  his  meet- 
ings in  Philadelphia,  and  perceiving,  in  the  course  of  the  sermon,  that  Whitefield 
intended  to  finish  with  a  collection,  Franklin  silently  resolved  that  the  preacher  should 
get  nothing  from  him,  though  he  had  in  his  pocket  a  handful  of  copper  money,  three  or 
four  silver  dollars,  and  five  pistoles  in  gold.  As  Whitefield  proceeded.  Franklin  began 
to  soften,  and  determined  to  give  the  copper.  Another  stroke  of  the  preacher's  oratory, 
made  Franklin  ashamed  of  that,  and  determined  him  to  give  the  silver  instead ;  but 


BOOK  OF  BEQUESTS  FOB  PKAYERS. 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


457 


the  preacher  finished  so  admirably,  that 
the  philosopher  emptied  his  pocket  wholly 
into  the  collector's  dish,  gold  and  all.  On 
the  same  occasion,  another  gentleman,  sus- 
pecting a  collection  might  be  intended, 
bad,  by  precaution,  emptied  his  pockets 
oefore  leaving  home.  Towards  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  discourse,  however,  he  felt  a 
strong  inclination  to  give,  and  applied  to 
a  neighbor,  who  stood  near  him,  to  lend 
him  some  money  for  the  purpose.  The 
request  was  made  to,  perhaps,  the  only 
man  in  the  assembly  who  had  the  firmness 
not  to  be  affected  by  the  preacher.  His 
answer  was,  "At  any  other  time,  friend 
Hodgkinson,  I  would  lend  to  thee  freely ; 
but  not  now,  for  thee  seems  to  be  out  of 
thy  right  senses."  The  multitudes,  of  all 
denominations,  that  went  to  hear  this  won- 
derful man,  were  enormous — indeed,  one 
great  secret  of  his  success  was,  his  freedom 
from  sectarian  prejudice  and  animosity. 
As  an  illustration  of  this  quality,  it  is 
related  that  in  the  midst  of  one  of  his 
most  overpowering  discourses,  he  stopped 
short  for  an  instant,  and  then  uttered  the 
following  impressive  apostrophe  :  "  Father 
Abraham,  who  have  you  in  heaven  ?  any 
Episcopalians  ?  "  "  No."  "  Any  Presby- 
terians?" "No."  "Any  Baptists?" 
"  No."  "Have  you  any  Methodists,  Sece- 
ders,  or  Independents  there?"  "No, 
no ! "  "  Why  who  have  you  there  ? " 
"  We  don't  know  those  names  here.  All 
who  are  here  are  Christians,  believers  in 
Christ — men  who  have  overcome  by  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  the  word  of  his 
testimony."  "Oh,  is  that  the  case  ?  then 
God  help  me,  God  help  us  all,  to  forget 
party  names,  and  to  become  Christians,  in 
deed  and  in  truth."  The  labors  of  such  a 
champion  could  not  be  otherwise  thin 
fruitful  of  good. 

Without  dwelling  upon  the  scenes  and 
results  relating  to  the  early  religious 
efforts  alluded  to  above,  it  may  be  said  of 
the  revival  in  1857-8 — known  as  "the 
Great  Awakening,"  and  which  is  the 
subject  of  this  chapter, — that  it  depended 
not  upon  any  leader  or  preacher,  however 
eloquent,  but  was  the  spontaneous  out- 


growth of  the  heart's  necessities,  felt  in 
common  by  the  great  mass  of  the  public, 
in  view  of  the  financial  tornado  which, 
sweeping  with  such  universal  destructive- 
ness  over  the  land,  had  given  impressive 
weight  to  the  truth,  that  "  the  things 
which  are  seen  are  temporal,  out  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal." 
No  words  could  convey  a  better  idea  of  the 
general  feeling  which  thus  possessed  men's 
minds  at  this  period  of  mercantile  ruin  on 
the  one  hand,  and  of  religious  anxiety  on 
the  other,  than  those  uttered  by  a  promi- 
nent merchant  of  New  York,  at  one  of  the 
business  men's  daily  prayer-meetings  in 
that  city.  "Prayer,"  said  he,  "was  never 
so  great  a  blessing  to  me  as  it  is  now.  I 
should  certainly  either  break  down  or  turn 
rascal,  except  for  it !  When  one  sees  his 
property  taken  from  him  every  day,  by 
those  who  might  pay  him  if  they  were 
willing  to  make  sacrifices  in  order  to  do  it, 
but  who  will  not  make  the  least  effort  even 
for  this  end,  and  by  some  who  seem  de- 
signedly to  take  advantage  of  the  times,  in 
order  to  defraud  him — and  when  he  him- 
self is  liable  to  the  keenest  reproaches  from 
others  if  he  does  not  pay  money,  which  he 
cannot  collect  and  cannot  create  —  the 
temptation  is  tremendous  to  forget  Chris- 
tian charity,  and  be  as  hard  and  unmerci- 
ful as  anybody.  If  I  could  not  get  some 
half  hours  every  day  to  pray  myself  into  a 
right  state  of  mind,  I  should  either  be 
overburdened  and  disheartened,  or  do  such 
things  as  no  Christian  man  ought."  Tes- 
timonies like  this  were  innumerable  from 
business  men, — they,  as  well  as  the  laity 
in  general,  being  most  prominent  in  carry- 
ing on  the  work. 

But,  though  this  movement  was,  in  a 
very  great  degree,  spontaneous,  it  was 
early  accompanied  by  a  systematic  plan  of 
family  visitation,  in  the  principal  cities, 
and  by  noonday  prayer-meetings,  in  almost 
every  city,  town,  and  village,  from  one  end 
of  the  country  to  the  other.  In  such 
places  as  New  York,  Boston,  Philadelphia, 
Cincinnati,  Chicago,  Richmond,  as  well  as 
farther  south  and  west,  not  only  were  the 
usual  houses  of  worship  crowded  daily,  but 


458 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


the  largest  public  halls  were  hired  for  the 
same  purpose,  and  resounded  every  day 
with  fervent  prayers,  songs  of  praise,  and 
earnest  exhortations. 

Thus,  in  Philadelphia,  the  vast  audience 
room  of  Jayne's  Hall,  and,  in  New  York, 
Burton's  well-known  theater,  were  appro- 
priated for  religious  assemblings.  The 
room  hitherto  occupied  in  the  first-named 
hall,  contained  accommodations  for  about 
three  hundred  persons,  and  when  it  was 
decided  upon  to  remove  into  the  large  hall, 
it  was  with  no  expectation  that  the  room 
would  be  filled,  at  such  an  hour  as  noon- 
day. To  the  amazement  of  all,  however, 
it  was  densely  crowded,  every  seat  being 
occupied,  including  the  settees  in  the  aisles, 
and  a  large  portion  of  the  immense  galler- 
ies, and  those  who  left  for  want  of  room 
upon  the  main  floor,  are  said  to  have 
exceeded  the  number  who  could  not  gain 
admission  on  the  day  previous,  when  the 
meeting  was  held  in  the  small  room  ad- 
joining. It  was  estimated  that  there  were 
certainly  not  less  than  three  thousand  per- 
sons who  entered  the  hall  during  the  hour, 
and  it  was  conceded,  hy  those  whose 
means  of  knowledge  enabled  them  to  judge, 
that  this  was  the  largest  meeting  convened 
for  the  simple  purpose  of  prayer  to  God, 
that  had  ever  been  assembled  in  this 
country. 

From  New  York  city,  a  vast  religious 
influence  went  forth  to  all  parts  of  the 
land,  and  details  of  the  daily  proceedings 
in  the  prayer-meetings  held  at  Burton's 
theater,  and  in  the  Fulton  street  and  John 
street  church  vestries,  were  published  far 
and  wide  by  the  secular  press.  Indeed, 
the  fullness  and  candor  characterizing  the 
reports  contained  in  the  city  journals, 
were,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  most 
honorable  to  those  influential  mediums  of 
public  enlightenment.  Of  the  now  almost 
world-renowned  Fulton  street  prayer-meet- 
ing, held  at  first  in  one  room,  but  to  which, 
as  the  revival  progressed,  it  was  found 
necessary  to  add  two  more,  the  Daily  Tri- 
bune of  March  6,  1858,  said :  "  All  three 
are  now  not  only  filled  to  their  utmost 
capacity,  but  would  be  still  more  largely 


attended  if  there  were  sitting  or  even 
standing-room  to  be  offered  to  the  multi- 
tude. A  placard  is  posted  on  the  gate, 
inviting  persons  to  enter,  though  sucli  an 
invitation  seems  no  longer  necessary: 
'  Step  in  for  five  minutes,  or  longer,  as 
your  time  permits.'  Inside  notices  ar 
hung  on  the  walls,  to  the  effect  that 
prayers  and  remarks  should  be  brief,  '  in 
order  to  give  all  an  opportunity,'  and  for- 
bidding the  introduction  of  'controverted 
points,'  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the- 
ological discussion.  These  precautions  are 
taken,  in  order  to  give  as  much  variety  as 
possible  to  the  exercises,  for  it  is  always 
unpardonable  to  render  a  crowded  meeting 
dull.  The  frequenters  of  this  meeting 
come  from  all  classes  of  society,  and  are 
invited  as  such,  without  regard  to  their 
differences.  Many  clergymen  of  the  city 
churches,  and  many  prominent  laymen, 
including  merchants  and  gentlemen  in  the 
legal  and  medical  professions,  are  seen 
there  every  day — as  they  ought  to  be  seen 
— side  by  side  with  the  mechanic  and  the 
day  laborer,  and  even  the  street  beggar. 
Draymen  drive  up  their  carts  to  the 
church,  and,  hitching  their  horses  outside, 
go  in  with  the  crowd ;  and  '  fine  ladies,' 
who  sometimes  have  Christian  hearts  in 
spite  of  unchristian  fashions,  driven  down 
from  '  up  town  '  in  their  fine  carriages,  also 
step  in  and  mingle  with  the  same  multi- 
tude. The  exercises  consist  about  equally 
of  prayers,  remarks,  and  singing.  Of 
course  it  is  impracticable  for  so  many  to 
take  part  in  the  speaking  or  the  audible 
praying,  but  they  all  join  in  the  singing 
with  great  zeal  and  emphasis.  On  one 
occasion,  the  volume  of  sound  was  so  heavy 
as  to  dislodge  from  its  place  on  the  wall 
the  clock  which  had  been  securely  fastened, 
as  was  supposed,  and  bring  it  crashing  to 
the  floor.  It  is  not  unfrequent,  during  the 
continuance  of  the  meeting,  to  see  a  crowd 
of  persons  collected  in  the  street  in  front 
of  the  church,  to  listen  to  the  spirit-stirring 
hymns  that  are  sung  inside.  The  prayer- 
meeting  held  in  the  old  Methodist  church 
in  John  street  is  similar  to  this.  The 
attendance  here  is  already  found  sufficient 


GEE  AT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


459 


to  crowd  the  entire  ground  floor  of  the 
building.  Many  Methodist  brethren  at- 
tend this  meeting  in  preference  to  the 
other,  but  the  proceedings  are  character- 
ized with  entire  catholicity  and  freedom 
from  sectarianism."  Perhaps  no  better 
illustration  could  be  afforded  of  this  unsec- 
tarian  feeling,  as  well  as  of  the  prevailing 
spirit  of  the  times,  than  the  following  dis- 
patch, which  was  sent  by  telegraph,  at 
noon,  March  12th,  to  the  great  union 
prayer-meeting  in  Jayne's  Hall,  Philadel- 
phia : 

"  Christian  Brethren — The  New  York 
John  street  Union  Meeting  sends  you 
greeting  in  brotherly  love :  '  And  the  in- 
habitants of  one  city  shall  go  to  another, 
saying,  Let  us  go  speedily  to  pray  before 
the  Lord,  and  to  seek  the  Lord  of  Hosts — 
I  will  go  also.  Praise  the  Lord — call 
upon  his  name — declare  his  doings  among 
the  people — make  mention  that  his  name 
is  exalted.' " 

To  the  above  message,  the  following 
dispatch  from  Mr.  George  H.  Stuart,  a 
prominent  Old  School  Presbyterian  and 
chairman  of  the  Philadelphia  meeting,  was 
immediately  telegraphed  and  read  to  the 
John  street  meeting : 

"Jayne's  Hall  daily  Prayer  Meeting  is 
crowded  ;  upwards  of  three  thousand  pres- 
ent; with  one  mind  and  heart  they  glorify 
our  Father  in  heaven  for  the  mighty  work 
he  is  doing  in  our  city  and  country,  in  the 
building  up  of  saints  and  the  conversion  of 
sinners.  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things 
for  us,  whence  joy  to  us  is  brought.  May 
He  who  holds  the  seven  stars  in  his  right 
hand,  and  who  walks  in  the  midst  of  the 
churches,  be  with  you  by  His  Spirit  this 
day.  Grace,  mercy,  and  peace,  be  with 
you." 

Even  among  those  denominations  unac- 
customed to  what  are  known  as  'revival 
measures  '  for  the  furtherance  of  religion, 
such  as  the  Unitarian,  Universalist,  and 
Episcopalian,  a  disposition  was  manifested 
to  co-operate,  in  prayers  and  labors,  for  the 
success  of  the  good  work.  In  Boston,  and 
other  places,  prayer-meetings  were  con- 
ducted by  the  Unitarian  clergy  and  laity, 


which  were  thronged  to  the  utmost  capac- 
ity of  the  halls  used  for  the  purpose.  In 
New  York,  the  Orchard  Street  Universalist 
church,  Rev.  Dr.  Sawyer,  exhibited  a  warm 
sympathy  with  the  revival,  and  took  an 
active  part  in  its  progress ;  prayer-meetings 
were  held  twice  a  week,  which  were  fully  at- 
tended, a  deep  religious  feeling  pervaded 
the  congregation,  and  large  numbers 
united  with  the  church.  The  card  of  invi- 
tation to  their  prayer-meeting,  which,  like 
that  of  other  denominations,  was  exten- 
sively circulated,  read  as  follows  :  A  gen- 
eral prayer-meeting  will  be  held  every 
Wednesday  and  Friday  evening,  at  half- 
past  seven  o'clock,  in  the  lecture-room  of 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Sawyer's  church,  Orchard 
street,  near  Broome.  '  Ho,  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he 
that  hath  no  money ;  come  ye,  buy  and 
eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  with- 
out money  and  without  price.' 

Among  the  Episcopalians,  meetings  of 
deep  interest  were  held,  including  regular 
evening  services  for  prayer  and  short  ad- 
dresses, at  the  Church  of  the  Ascension, 
New  York,  Rev.  Dr.  Bedell's.  One  of 
these  meetings  was  of  a  very  impressive 
character.  The  meeting  commenced  with 
singing  the  hymn,  "Stay,  thou  insulted 
Spirit,  stay,"  a  series  of  prayers  followed, 
after  which  Rev.  Mr.  Dickson  delivered 
a  short  address,  founded  on  the  words, 
"  Lord,  are  there  few  that  be  saved  ? " 
Other  hymns  were  sung,  and  then  remarks 
made  by  Rev.  Drs.  Dyer  and  Cutler,  Epis- 
copal rectors.  Doctor  Cutler  said  that, 
twenty  years  ago,  such  a  meeting  as  the 
present  one  would  have  been  denounced  as 
Methodistical ;  but  he  felt  that  he  could 
almost  say,  with  Simeon  of  old,  "Now, 
Lord,  let  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,"  for 
he  had  witnessed  that  glorious  "levia- 
than," the  Episcopal  Church,  which  for 
forty  years  he  had  lamented  to  see,  with 
all  its  noble  qualities  and  precious  gifts, 
being  fast  in  the  stocks,  at  last  launched 
and  making  full  headway  in  the  river  that 
flows  from  the  City  of  God. 

Next  to  the  Fulton  street  prayer-meet- 
ing, in  point  of  wide-reaching  influence, 


460  GKEAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


OBOiP  OF  EMINENT  BEVIVAL  PBEACHEBS  DURING  THE  NATIONAL  CENTUJMr. 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


461 


the  meetings  for  prayer  held  daily,  at 
noon,  in  Burton's  theater,  may  be  spoken 
of  as  most  conspicuous.  It  was  hired  for 
this  purpose  by  the  New  York  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  and  was 
crowded  daily  with  earnest-minded  men 
and  women,  fervent  in  their  songs,  prayers, 
and  exhortations.  The  place  made  so 
famous,  in  years  past,  by  the  histrionic 
performances  of  Burton,  Blake,  Placide, 
Holland,  Davenport,  Johnston,  Lester, 
Jordan,  Fisher,  Brougham,  and  other 
celebrities,  now  resounded  with  the  soul- 
stirring  appeals  of  such  men  as  Cuyler, 
Beecher,  Hatfield,  Armitage,  and  a  host  of 
warm-hearted  merchants  and  professional 
men,  all  enlisted  in  the  good  work  of  ex- 
tolling the  glad  tidings  of  salvation.  In- 
stead of  polkas,  schottisches,  and  waltzes 
— instead  of  fiddle  and  bow,  orchestra  and 
overture, — there  were  the  grave  and  seri- 
ous hymns,  "  Children  of  the  Heavenly 
King,"  and  "  Salvation,  0  the  joyful 
sound,"  "Return,  my  wandering  soul, 
return,"  etc.  With  the  exception  of  now 
and  then  a  fervid  "Amen,"  or  a  hearty 
"  Yes,  Lord,"  the  order  and  quiet  of  the 
audience  during  the  speaking  were  entirely 
uninterrupted. 

At  all  the  multitudinous  prayer-meet- 
ings held  in  different  places  throughout 
the  country,  one  marked  feature  of  the 
proceedings  was  that  of  receiving  and 
reading  requests  for  prayers.  The  re- 
quests of  this  character  sent  to  the  Fulton 
street  meeting  have  all  been  carefully  pre- 
served in  a  book,  constituting  a  volume 
upon  which  no  one  can  look  without  the 
deepest  interest.  The  scope  and  variety 
of  these  requests  afford  so  apt  a  reflection 
of  the  state  of  feeling  during  the  revival 
period,  that  a  few  specimens  of  those  pre- 
sented at  different  times  and  places,  will 
be  a  fajr  illustration  of  all : 

'A  Christian  merchant  earnestly  desires 
the  prayers  of  God's  people  for  his  co-part- 
ners in  business,  and  for  all  the  voung 
men  in  their  employment  unconverted  to 
God.' 

'An  anxious  wife  is  praying  earnestly 
at  this  hour  for  her  husband,  who  once 


made  a  profession  of  religion,  but  is  now 
fearful  that  he  never  was  born  of  the 
Spirit,  and  is  in  darkness.  She  asks  for 
an  interest  in  your  prayers  in  his  behalf.' 

'  The  prayers  of  those  who  are  accus- 
tomed to  intercede  with  God,  are  requested 
by  a  San  Franciscan,  that  the  Almighty 
would  visit  the  city  of  San  Francisco  with 
a  gracious  outpouring  of  his  Spirit.  Re- 
member your  brothers  and  fathers  on  the 
Pacific  coast.' 

'The  prayers  of  this  meeting  are  re- 
quested for  a  young  lady  who  scoffs  at 
religion.  Don't  forget  her,  brethren.  She 
has  no  one  to  pray  for  her  but  the  writer 
of  this.  Oh,  pray  for  her.' 

'A  widow  asks  for  the  prayers  of  the 
brethren  and  sisters  for  a  son  brought  up 
under  careful  religious  instruction,  who 
last  night  cursed  his  mother — that  he  may 
this  day  be  brought  to  the  feet  of  Jesus.' 

'  Prayers  are  requested  for  a  sister  who 
is  given  to  intemperance.' 

'The  prayers  of  Christians  are  most 
earnestly  requested  by  a  son  in  behalf  of 
an  aged  father,  nearly  seventy  years  old. 
A  family  of  ten  children  are  praying 
morning,  noon,  and  night  for  him.' 

'  The  prayers  of  Christians  are  requested 
for  a  young  man — the  son  of  a  clergyman 
— who  is  an  idle  jester  on  the  subject  of 
religion,  and  who  has,  within  the  last 
hour,  been  heard  to  ridicule  these  meet- 
ings, and  to  jest  upon  these  subjects.' 

'  My  husband  is  not  a  Christian,  though 
often  thoughtful.  I  have  prayed  for  his 
conversion  every  day  since  our  marriage 
— nine  years.  May  I  ask  an  interest  in 
your  prayers  that  my  husband  may  seek 
now  an  interest  in  Christ,  and  that  we 
may  both  become  devoted,  earnest,  Bible- 
Christians  ? ' 

'  The  prayers  of  the  Fulton  street  meet- 
ing are  earnestly  requested  for  a  bible 
class  of  twenty-two  young  ladies,  con- 
nected with  one  of  the  Dutch  Reformed 
churches  in  this  vicinity,  some  of  whom 
appear  to  be  anxious  for  their  souls.' 

It  was  in  this  spirit  that  the  Great 
Awakening  showed  its  character  and  its 
power  in  all  sections  of  the  land,  north, 


462 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


south,  east,  and  west,  the  Wind  of  God 
sweeping  benignly  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific, — reaching  across  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  continent, — from  the 
granite  mountains  of  the  north  to  the  roll- 
ing prairies  of  the  west  and  the  golden 
slopes  of  California.  It  was,  in  a  word, 
the  American  Pentecost, — the  great  relig- 
ious epoch  of  the  national  century,  un- 
equaled  in  earnestness,  union,  and  univer- 
sality, by  any  similar  movement  that  had 
preceded  it,  in  the  history  of  the  western 
world.  The  spiritual  activities  of  the 
denominations  were  everywhere  constant 
and  fruitful,  the  accessions  to  the  churches 
being  numbered  by  scores  of  thousands. 
In  places  the  most  obscure,  remote  and 
isolated,  the  most  fervid  religious  engaged- 
ness  was  to  be  found,  while,  in  the  larger 
towns  and  cities,  no  business  man,  what- 
ever his  location,  needed  to  go  forty  rods 
to  find  a  prayer-meeting  in  operation,  with 
a  printed  invitation  outside  for  him  to 
enter  and  listen  to  the  prayers  and  expe- 
riences of  others,  and,  if  he  so  desired,  take 
a  part  in  the  exercises  himself.  There 
were  special  meetings  for  prayer,  also,  in 
behalf  of  firemen,  policemen,  waiters  at 
hotels,  seamen,  and  boys,  maintained 
wholly  or  in  part  by  the  classes  specially 
named,  and  resulting  in  a  large  amount  of 
good.  Men  of  established  Christian  char- 
acter were  strengthened  in  their  good  pur- 
poses ;  the  indifferent  and  heedless  were 
awakened  to  thoughtfulness  on  religious 
themes  ;  and  multitudes,  everywhere,  who 
had  led  lives  of  immorality  and  wicked- 
ness, dangerous  to  society,  were  reclaimed, 
and  henceforth  walked  in  the  path  of 
virtue  and  honor. 

Of  the  many  interesting  incidents  which 
transpired  during  this  wonderful  period, 
only  a  few  can  here  be  cited. 

Just  after  the  commencement  of  the 
great  panic,  (says  Rev.  Mr.  Adams,  a  well- 
known  Methodist  preacher  in  New  York,) 
a  young  man  called  on  me  late  on  Satur- 
day night.  He  was  the  picture  of  distress 
and  despair.  Supposing  him  to  be  one  of 
the  many  cases  that  daily  came  under  my 
notice,  I  invited  him  in.  He  sat  some 


minutes  in  perfect  silence,  and  finally 
burst  into  tears.  It  was  some  time  before 
he  could  control  himself  sufficiently  to  go 
on,  and  then  said,  "  Can  you  do  anything 
for  me  ?  "  I  requested  him  to  state  his 
case.  He  said  he  was  miserable  beyond 
description — had  been  blessed  with  pious 
parents  and  a  religious  education,  but  had 
gone  far  away  from  the  counsels  of  his 
fathers  ;  he  had  fallen  into  shameful  sin, 
until  his  soul  loathed  himself,  and  he  had 
been  on  the  verge  of  self-destruction. 
"This  afternoon,"  said  he,  "feeling  a  hell 
within,  I  went  and  bought  poison, — went 
into  my  room,  and  was  about  to  take  it, 
when  something  seemed  to  say  to  me,  'Go 
down  and  see  the  minister,'  and  I  have 
come.  Will  you  pray  for  me  ?  "  He  fell 
on  his  knees  and  cried  aloud  for  mercy. 
After  two  hours  of  prayer,  he  grew  calm, 
and  finally  joyful.  He  gave  me  a  package, 
and  requested  me  to  destroy  it;  there  was 
laudanum  in  it — enough  to  have  killed 
half  a  dozen  men. 

One  of  the  first  conversions  among  the 
sailors,  was  that  of  a  man  who  had  been 
greatly  addicted  to  gambling,  and  to  other 
vices  that  usually  accompany  this.  When 
he  went  to  the  meeting,  he  had  just  left 
the  gaming-table ;  but  when  he  returned, 
his  first  act  was  to  consign  his  cards  and 
dice  to  the  flames.  He  then  knelt  down, 
prayed,  and  was  converted.  He  went  to 
sea,  and  on  board  the  ship  daily  prayer- 
meetings  were  held  both  in  the  cabin  and 
forecastle. 

A  merchant,  after  having  attended  one 
of  the  crowded  prayer-meetings  held  in 
the  city,  determined,  on  returning  home, 
to  make  an  effort  for  the  spiritual  good  of 
some  of  his  friends  and  neighbors.  On« 
of  these  was  a,man  who  avowed  himself  an 
infidel.  A  prayer-meeting  was  organized, 
to  which  this  man  with  others  was  invited, 
and,  after  several  days'  attendance,  rose 
on  one  occasion,  and  requested  that  prayer 
should  be  made  in  his  behalf.  To  the 
surprise  and  almost  astonishment  of  his 
acquaintances,  he  shortly  afterward  re- 
nounced infidelity,  and  embraced  the 
Christian  religion. 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


463 


At  many  of  the  telegraph  offices,  mes- 
sages were  constantly  being  sent  to  all 
parts  of  the  land,  announcing  conversions. 
Some  of  these  were  exceedingly  tender  and 
touching,  such  as,  'Dear  mother,  the  revi- 
val continues,  and  I,  too,  have  been  con- 
verted.' '  My  dear  parents,  you  will  re- 
joice to  hear  that  I  have  found  peace  with 
God.'  'Tell  1113'  sister  that  I  have  come 
to  the  Cross  of  Christ.'  '  At  last  I  have 
faith  and  peace.' 

The  influence  of  personal  effort  and  a 
good  example  was  forcibly  illustrated  in 
the  following  case  of  a  man  and  wi,fe,  who 
•were  utterly  regardless  even  of  the  forms 
of  religion,  the  husband,  indeed,  being  an 
infidel.  The  wife  had,  however,  been 
taken  by  some  one  to  the  meetings  in  a 
neighboring  Methodist  church,  and,  un- 
known to  her  husband,  had  become  inter- 
ested in  them.  One  day  he  was  scoffi^c; 
in  her  presence  at  the  revival,  expressing 
his  disbelief  in  everything  of  the  kind, 
especially  ridiculing  the  Methodist  modes 
of  labor,  and  winding  up  with  a  threat 
that  he  would  soon  stop  any  of  hit  family 
who  should  bo  guilty  of  the  folly  of  going 
up  to  the  altar.  "  Why,"  said  his  wife, 
throwing  her  arms  round  his  neck,  and 
giving  him  a  kiss,  "do  you  know  that  / 
was  there  last  night  ?  "  "  No,"  he  replied, 
returning  her  kiss;  "  but  I  am  glad  of  it." 
He  was  softened  ;  that  same  evening  he 
accompanied  her  to  meeting,  and  went  up 
to  the  altar  himself. 

St.  Paul's  Episcopal  church,  on  Broad- 
way, New  York,  was  filled  with  multi- 
tudes, on  Wednesday  and  Friday  evenings, 
in  attendance  on  the  devotional  services 
performed  there.  On  one  of  these  occa- 
sions, soon  after  the  exercises  commenced, 
the  large  and  fashionable  congregation  was 
surprised  by  the  entrance  of  three  Indian 
maidens,  wrapped  in  their  blue  blankets. 
They  paused  for  an  instant  at  the  door, 
and  then  advanced  to  the  front  of  the  altar 
with  quiet  dignity  and  self-possession,  and 
knelt  doirn  to  their  devotions.  As  the 
solemn  ceremonies  drew  near  to  a  close, 
they  rose,  crossed  themselves,  and,  saluting 
the  altar,  glided  down  the  aisle  and  from 


the  church.  They  were  of  the  Caughne- 
waga  tribe,  residing  near  Montreal,  and 
had  visited  New  York  for  the  purpose  of 
selling  their  trinkets,  bead  moccasins,  and 
baskets.  Being  mostly  Catholics,  they 
usually  worshiped  in  the  church  of  that 
order  on  Canal  street ;  but  it  seemed  that 
they  had  observed  the  brilliantly  illumin- 
ated church  in  passing  by,  and  had  entered, 
forgetful  of  form  or  sect,  to  kneel  with 
their  white  sisters  before  the  common 
Father  of  all. 

In  Mr.  Beecher's  church,  Brooklyn,  at 
the  close  of  one  of  the  morning  meetings, 
a  charitable  collection  was  taken  up. 
Among  the  audience  was  Mrs.  Fremont 
("  Our  Jessie  "),  who,  happening  to  have 
no  money  in  her  pocket,  as  the  plate  was 
passed,  took  from  her  finger  a  heavy  gold 
ring,  and  threw  it  in  as  the  only  contribu- 
tion which  she  was  able  at  the  moment  to 
make.  The  ring  contained  on  the  outside 
an  engraved  lee, — in  allusion  to  a  beautiful 
incident  in  Fremont's  passage  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains, — and,  on  the  inside, 
the  inscription,  '  March  4,  '57.' 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  conversions 
among  the  dangerous  and  criminal  classes, 
was  that  of  Orville  Gardner,  commonly 
called  "Awful"  Gardner,  a  noted  prize- 
fighter and  trainer  of  pugilists.  He  was 
induced  to  attend  one  of  the  Methodist 
meetings,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  multi- 
tudes, he  requested  the  prayers  of  the  con- 
gregation, »  request  which  on  three  differ- 
ent occasiors  he  repeated.  At  this  time, 
he  was  residing  in  the  vicinity  of  New 
York.  Having  some  unimportant  busi- 
ness to  do  in  that  city,  a  friend  asked  him 
if  he  wo^ld  "  jump  into  the  cars  and  go 
down  and  attend  to  it."  He  replied,  "  I 
have  more  important  business  to  attend  to 
first,  and  I  shall  not  go  to  the  city  till  it 
is  done."  He  had  then  three  men  under 
his  training  for  a  prize-fight.  On  being 
asked  if  he  would  give  them  further  les- 
sons, he  replied  that  "he  would  go  to 
them  soon,  but  on  a  different  errand  from 
boxing  and  training — he  would  try  to  per- 
suade them  to  reform,  and  to  embrace 
religion." 


464 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


A  young  man,  hearing  himself  prayed 
for  by  some  friends,  became  so  angry,  that 
he  resolved  to  sell  his  farm  and  go  west, 
away  from  such  interfering  relatives. 
They  continued  to  pray,  and  he  finally 
sold  his  farm,  and  was  going  to  start  for 
Albany,  on  his  way  to  the  west.  While 
going  to  take  the  cars,  he  passed  the 
prayer-meeting,  and,  having  some  time  to 
wait  for  the  train,  thought  he  would  just 
step  in,  to  pass  the  time  away,  and  see 
what  was  going  on.  He  went  in,  was 
deeply  impressed,  and  his  case  was  imme- 
diately added  to  the  great  multitude  of 
similar  instances  of  reformation,  which 
made  the  Great  Awakening  of  1857-8  so 
memorable  in  the  religious  history  of  the 
nation. 


world-wide  fame,  who  had  some  time  pre- 
viously been  on  a  tour  of  active  and  suc- 
cessful religious  labor  in  different  parts  of 
Europe.  Returning  to  their  native  land, 
they  devoted  themselves,  for  consecutive 
months,  and  with  great  and  disinterested 
earnestness,  among  the  masses,  and  this, 
too,  as  it  appeared,  not  only  without  stated 
or  assured  pecuniary  compensation,  but 
absolutely  without  consideration  of  money 
or  hire,  beyond  what  was  voluntarily  con- 
tributed by  friends  for  their  current  ex- 
penses. 

Never  before,  perhaps,  were  the  fount- 
ains of  the  higher  life  in  man  opened  up 
so  abundantly  and  universally  in  our  land, 
as  by  the  efforts  of  these  simple-spoken 
but  intrepid  and  warm-hearted  reformers, 


But,  in  addition  to  the  Great  Awaken- 
ing thus  distinguishing  the  periods  de- 
scribed, and  which  wrought  such  mighty 
results,  there  was  to  succeed  another, 
which,  in  some  of  its  aspects,  was  to  prove 
even  more  noteworthy.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  said,  without  exaggeration,  that  one  of 
the  most  happy,  conciliatory,  and  widely 
useful  religious  movements  characterizing 
the  history  of  our  country,  and,  in  fact, 
the  history  of  modern  times,— creating  an 
enthusiasm  as  genial  and  far-reaching  as 
it  was  decorous  and  practical, — was  that 
which  commenced  in  the  fall  of  1875, 
under  the  personal  auspices  of  Messrs. 
Moody  and  Sankey,  lay  evangelists  of  i 


as  they  went  from  town  to  town  and  from 
city  to  city,  with  the  proclamation,  by  fer- 
vent discourse,  and  cheering,  melting  song, 
of  the  "  glad  tidings  of  good." 

Standing  aloof  from  even  the  shadow  of 
sectarian  propagandism  or  theological  dis- 
putation, they  enlisted  the  co-operation — 
or,  at  least,  the  good  will  and  God-speed — 
of  all  denominations  of  Christians,  and,  so 
conciliatory  was  their  speech,  and  so  ra- 
tional their  methods,  in  appealing  to  the 
irreligious  or  indifferent,  that,  unlike  the 
experience  which  would  probably  have  at- 
tended a  different  course,  little  if  any  time 
was  lost  in  provoking  criticism  or  combat- 
ing objections.  And  this,  in  a  word,  was 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLL 


465 


the  cause  of  the  welcome  extended  them, 
wherever  they  went,  uud  of  the  almost 
invariably  rich  harvests  which  accom- 
panied their  labors.  Nothing,  in  fact, 
could  better  evince  the  favorable  impres- 
sioT.  made  by  these  evangelists  upon  soci- 
ety, than  the  judgments  of  the  value  of 
their  work,  expressed  by  those  not  holding 
their  opinions.  Thus,  the  Tablet,  an  in- 
fluential journal  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
faith,  published  in  New  York,  spoke  of 
Mr.  Moody  as  affording,  in  "  the  midst  of 
an  age  of  mocking  and  unbelieving,  a  kind 
of  earnest  testimony  to  Jesus,  and  we  can 
not  find  it  in  our  heart  to  say  it  is  not  of 
God;  "-and,  though  guarding  its  conces- 
sions by  the  claim  for  its  own  Church  of 
possessing  solely  the  real  truth,  it  admit- 
ted, nevertheless,  that  "it  is  something  in 
cities  where  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  His 
divine  teaching  are  openly  blasphemed, 
and  where  to  the  great  bulk  of  the  popula- 
tion the  Christian  religion  is  a  matter  of 
complete  indifference,  when  it  is  not  one 
of  scorn,  that  their  ears  should  be  accus- 
tomed to  words  of  adoration  and  love  of 
Him,  and  that  even  the  dreary  wastes  of 
heresy  should  echo  with  the  name  of 
Jesus.  .  .  .  This  work  of  Mr.  Moody's  is 
not  sin.  It  cannot  be  sin  to  invite  men 
to  love  and  serve  Jesus  Christ." 

And  in  a  similar  spirit  to  that  just  cited, 
the  Jewish  Messenger,  referring  to  the 
meetings  contemplated  to  be  held  by  these 
evangelists,  in  the  vast  hippodrome,  New 
York  city,  expressed  it  as  its  opinion  that, 
whatever  objection  might  be  urged  to 
emotional  religion  as  spasmodic,  lacking 
in  substantial  good,  no  man  of  sense  could 
declaim  against  such  services,  if  conducted 
in  the  same  orderly  and  earnest  way  that 
had  characterized  the  meetings  else- 
where. In  the  same  vein  was  the  utter- 
ance of  a  distinguished  preacher  in 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,— one  representing  the 
extreme  wing  of  the  'liberal'  school, — 
who  declared,  in  a  sermon,  that,  if 
Moody  and  Sankey  could  reach  the 
masses  of  the  people,  "they  would  per- 
form a  work  for  which  all  lovers  of  man- 
kind would  be  grateful."  That  this  hope 
30 


was     largely     realized,    in    the    case    of 
Brooklyn  itself,  is  well  known. 

One  of  the  events  in  Mr.  Moody's  career 
which  peculiarly  conspired  to  awaken  pop- 
ular enthusiasm  in  behalf  of  him  and  his 
cause,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic,  was  the 
account,  which  preceded  his  arrival  in 
Anierica  by  some  weeks,  of  the  extraordi- 
nary occasion  attending  the  close  of  the 
evangelists'  wonderful  labors  in  London, 
and  which,  on  being  read  by  their  friends 
in  this  country,  seemed  like  a  prophecy  of 
great  things  in  store  for  their  native  land, 
when  their  homeward  voyage  should  be 
accomplished.  It  appeared,  according  to 
the  account  of  the  meeting  referred  to — 
the  last  of  the  immense  gatherings  of  this 
kind  in  that  metropolis  —  that,  for  some 
days  prior  to  its  taking  place,  the  anxiety 
of  the  people  to  obtain  admission  to  the 
hall  amounted  almost  to  a  frenzy,  and  not 
altogether  a  harmless  one.  Numbers  were 
waiting  for  admission  as  early  as  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  or  hours  before  the 
opening, — all  the  approaches  were  crowded 
with  surging  throngs,  some  of  whom  had 
come  from  great  distances,  —  and,  all 
around,  dense  masses  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  were  present,  worked  up  to  the 
highest  point  of  interest  and  expectation. 
Mr.  Moody  found  entrance  through  a  pri- 
vate house  adjoining,  and  with  the  help  of 
a  ladder.  Meetings  were  held  outside,  but 
nothing  less  than  seeing  and  hearing  Mr. 
Moody  would  satisfy  the  densely  packed 
multitude.  Among  the  great  dignitaries 
present  were  the  Queen  of  the  Netherlands 
and  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland.  The  last 
words  of  the  evangelist  ware  very  impres- 
sive, as  indeed,  was  the  whole  scene  of 
this  most  memorable  occasion,  and  his  sen- 
timents, as  then  and  there  uttered — rapid, 
spontaneous,  gushing,  —  may  be  said  to 
fitly  represent  the  preacher's  character  and 
power.  ''It  is,"  he  said,  "  the  last  time  I 
shall  have  the  unspeakable  privilege  of 
preaching  the  gospel  in  England.  I  have 
never  enjoyed  preaching  so  much  as  I  have 
in  this  country."  "  Have  another  week," 
shouted  a  man.  "  I  want  to  have  you  all 
saved  tonight,"  said  Mr.  Moody,  looking 


466 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


REVIVAL  MEETING   l.N    BROOKLYN,    COSUUCIKD    BY    MESSRS.  MOODY   AND  BASKEY. 


toward  the  speaker.  "  If  I  were  to  stay 
another  week,  I  could  tell  you  no  more.  I 
have  not  told  you  a  hundredth  part  of  the 
story,  hut  I  have  done  the  best  I  can  with 
this  stammering  tongue.  I  don't  want  to 
close  this  meeting  until  I  see  you  safe 
behind  the  walls  of  the  city  of  refuge. 
During  the  past  thirty  days  I  have  been 
preaching  here,  I  have  tried  to  allure 
you  away  to  that  world  of  light.  I  have 
•told  you  of  hell  to  warn  you,  and  I  have 
told  you  of  the  love  of  God.  To-night  I 
have  been  trying  to  illustrate  salvation. 
You  can  receive  Christ  and  be  saved,  or 
reject  him  and  be  lost.  By-and-by  there 
will  be  a  glorious  future,  and  I  want  to 
know  how  many  there  are  willing  to  join 
me  for  eternity.  How  many  will  stand  up 
here  before  God  and  man,  and  say,  by  that 
act,  you  will  join  me  for  heaven  ?  Those 
who  are  willing  to  do  so  to-night,  will  you 
just  rise  ?  "  Multitudes  rose  to  their  feet. 


Of  this  remarkable  European  tour  of  the 
evangelists,  one  of  them  afterwards  said, 
"I  remember  when  we  left  home,  not 
knowing  what  was  before  us.  We  landed 
in  Liverpool,  and  found  the  friends  who 
invited  us  over  both  dead.  We  were 
strangers,  but  God  led  us ;  His  Spirit 
directed  us  up  to  a  dead  town,  where  we 
held  a  prayer-meeting,  at  which,  at  first, 
there  were  but  four persons  present.  After- 
ward more  came.  People  thought  we  were 
two  Americans  with  sinister  designs.  The 
meetings,  however,  increased  in  interest 
and  power,  and  then  the  work  began." 

In  due  time,  after  returning  to  this 
country,  the  evangelists  commenced  their 
public  labors,  selecting  Brooklyn,  N.  Y., 
as  their  first  field.  No  church  edifice, 
however,  in  that  city,  having  the  seating 
capacity  to  accommodate  the  throng  of 
people  who  desired  to  listen  to  Mr.  Moody's 
powerful  exhortations  and  Mr.  Sankey's 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WOULD. 


467 


sinking,  the  large  structure  known  as  the 
rink,  on  Cluriiiout  avenue,  was  fitted  up 
for  this  purpose.  It  accommodated  five 
thousand  persons.  The  interior  of  this 
vast  building,  as  viewed  from  the  platform, 
a  large  semi-circular  dais,  was  in  the  high- 
est degree  inspiring.  Mr.  Moody 's  posi- 
tion, when  speaking,  was  at  the  center  of 
this  platform,  in  front ;  on  his  left  were 
seats  for  visiting  clergymen ;  on  his  right, 
in  front,  was  Mr.  Sankey's  position,  at  a 
small  organ,  on  which  lie  played  the  ac- 
companiment to  his  admirable  rendering 
of  the  hymns  which  formed  such  a  marked 
and  helpful  feature  of  these  services.  It 
was  in  this  rink,  that,  day  after  day  and 
night  after  night,  for  successive  weeks, 
dense  throngs  assembled,  and  discourse, 
song,  and  prayer  united  to  bring  thousands 
of  hearts  to  religious  consecration.  Out- 
door meetings,  as  well  as  meetings  in  the 
neighboring  churches,  were  also  held  daily, 
with  the  most  beneficial  results,  the  pastors 
joining  heartily  in  the  work,  —  and,  in 
fact,  all  over  the  land,  the  stimulus  to 
renewed  zeal  and  activity  in  spiritual 
things,  received  from  this  source,  was 
most  decided. 

Commencing  in  Brooklyn,  October  24th, 
and  continuing  some  weeks,  only  a  brief 
interval  elapsed  before  the  revivalists  com- 
menced their  labors  in  Philadelphia, 
namely,  on  Sunday  morning,  November 
21st,  the  meetings  being  held  in  the  old 
freight  depot,  at  Thirteenth  and  Market 
streets,  which  had  been  fitted  up  for  this 
use.  The  inclemency  of  the  weather  did 
not  prevent  the  assembling  of  at  least  ten 
thousand  persons  at  the  opening  services, 
including  hundreds  of  prominent  persons. 
Indeed,  long  before  the  hour  of  opening, 
the  streets  leading  to  the  building  were 
alive  with  people  of  every  age  and  condi- 
tion, and  of  both  sexes  ;  thousands  came 
by  the  various  lines  of  passenger  railway 
running  by  or  near  the  spot,  and  other 
thousands  wended  their  way  thither  on 
foot,  many  of  them  coming  weary  dis- 
tances. Within  the  building,  the  sight  of 
such  a  vast  sea  of  humanity — now  eager  to 
catch  the  earnest  words  of  the  speaker, 


and,  again,  with  heads  bowed  in  solemn 
prayer — was  most  impressive  ;  nor  was 
it  less  so,  when,  under  Mr.  Sankey's  in- 
spiring leadership,  the  joyous  multitude 
united  in  singing  those  sweet  and  favorite 
songs,  "Hold  the  Fort,"  "The  Ninety  and 
Nine,"  "  Jesus  of  Nazareth  Passeth  by/ 
etc.  The  interest  and  enthusiasm  in  these 
meetings  continued  without  abatement  io> 
consecutive  weeks,  not  the  least  interested 
among  the  attendants,  during  one  of  the 
December  sessions,  being  President  Grant, 
with  members  of  his  cabinet. 

New  York  city  was  the  next  field  of 
labor  chosen  by  the  evangelists,  the  hippo- 
drome being  chosen  by  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  of  that  city,  for  the 
meetings,  the  opening  one  taking  place 
February  4,  1876.  Both  halls,  the  larger 
containing  seven  thousand  persons,  and 
the  smaller,  containing  four  thousand 
were  filled,  and  several  thousand  persons 
more  stood  outside.  Distinguished  preach- 
ers occupied  the  platform ;  a  choir  of 
twelve  hundred  voices  conducted  the  sing- 
ing; Mr.  Moody  preached  with  great 
power;  and  the  spectacle  altogether  was 
truly  sublime.  Mr.  Sankey  carried  all 
hearts  with  him  while  he  sang  "  Hold  the 
Fort,"  the  people  joining  in  the  chorus. 
There  was  not  only  no  diminution  in 
enthusiasm  or  attendance  while  the  meet- 
ings were  in  progress,  but  rain  and  storm 
offered  no  obstacle  to  the  pressing  throngs. 
Mr.  Moody  gained  favor  constantly  by  the 
judicious  judgment  which  he  showed  in 
his  management  both  of  the  people  and 
himself;  and  when,  on  one  occasion,  he 
said,  "I  want  no  false  excitement,"  the 
expressions  of  approval  were  unmistakar 
ble.  On  Sunday,  February  13th,  the  en- 
tire attendance  was  estimated  to  be  fron 
twenty  to  twenty-five  thousand ;  even  a 
early  as  eight  o'clock,  A.  M.,  at  a  special 
meeting  for  Christians,  the  admission 
being  by  ticket,  over  four  thousand  per- 
sons were  present;  at  three  o'clock,  p.  M., 
a  meeting  specially  for  women  was  at- 
tended by  more  than  six  thousand  of  them ; 
and  in  the  evening,  when  men  alone  were 
admitted,  the  audience  numbered  some  ten 


468 


GREAT  AWAKENING  IN  THE  RELIGIOUS  WORLD. 


thousand.  At  all  these  services  the  order 
was  perfect,  and  all  hearts  seemed  in 
accord.  Though  a  Roman  Catholic,  Dom 
Pedro,  emperor  of  Brazil,  being  in  the 
city  on  his  American  tour,  during  the 
holding  of  the  meetings,  became  an  audi- 
tor, and  was  not  only  deeply  moved  by 


such  a  vast  and  unusual  spectacle,  but 
expressed  his  admiration  of  Mr.  Moody's 
fervid  preaching  and  Mr.  Sankey's  beauti- 
ful songs.  The  New  York  meetings  were 
succeeded  by  visits  from  the  evangelists  to 
the  south  and  west,  with  the  most  benefi- 
cial results. 


LTII. 

POLITICAL  DEBATE  BETWEEN  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  AND 
STEPHEN  A.  DOUGLAS,  IN  ILLINOIS.— 1858. 


Cause  of  this  Remarkable  Oratorical  Contest. — Intense  Interest  in  All  Parts  of  the  Land.— the  Heart  of 
Every  American  Citizen  Enlisted  in  the  Momentous  Issue  Involved. — Eminent  Character  of  the  Com- 
batants.— their  Extraordinary  Ability  and  Eloquence  Universally  Acknowledged. — the  Discussions 
Attended  by  Friends  and  Foes. — Victory,  Defeat,  Life  and  Death. — Condition  of  the  New  Territories. — 
Form  of  Constitution  to  be  Decided. — Domestic  Institutions :  Slavery. — Mr.  Douglas  Advocates  "  Popu- 
lar Sovereignty." — "  Prohibition  "  Urged  by  Mr.  Lincoln. — National  Importance  of  the  Question. — The 
Public  Mind  Divided. — Joint  Debates  Proposed. — Agreement  between  the  two  Leaders. — Personal  Ap- 
pearance and  Style. — Plans,  Places,  Scenes. — Theories  and  Arguments  Advanced. — Skill  and  Adroit- 
ness of  the  Disputants. — Immense  Concourses. — Result  Impartially  Stated.— Mr.  Douglas  Re-elected 
Senator. — Mr.  Lincoln  Nominated  for  President. — His  Election  to  that  Office. — Douglas'  Magnanimity. 
— The  Olive  Branch.— Shoulder  to  Shoulder  as  Unionists. — Sudden  Decease  of  the  Great  Senator. 


« i  regard  Lincoln  M  •  kind.  amiable,  and  Intelligent  gentleman,  a  good  citizen,  and  an  honorable  opponent.*— JUDOK  DotTOLAS. 
"Tiie  nun  who  itumpa  a  State  with  Stephen  A.  Douglai,  and  meeti  him,  day  after  day,  before  the  people,  haa  got  to  be  no  fool.' 

BOEACK  QKKBLST. 


THE  tremendous  political  excitement  which  convulsed  the  nation  in  1858, 
growing  out  of  the  agitation  of  the  slavery 
question,  in  its  relation  to  the  vast  terri- 
tories of  Kansas  and  Nebraska,  found  two 
of  the  most  able  and  conspicuous  men 
in  the  great  west,  and  especially  Illinois, 
pitted  against  each  other  in  the  discussion 
of  that  issue, — representing,  respectively, 
the  two  prevailing  political  parties  in  pub- 
lic affairs, — and  the  interest  created  by 
this  fact  throughout  that  region,  and,  in- 
deed, from  one  end  of  the  whole  land  to 
the  other,  was  still  farther  heightened  by 
those  two  gentlemen  being  not  only  candi- 
dates— the  one  of  the  democratic  and  the 
other  of  the  anti-slavery  party — for  the 
senatorial  seat  of  that  State  in  the  capitol 
at  Washington,  but  their  names  were  also 
looming  up  in  the  near  presidential  horizon  of  1860. 

The  question  at  issue  was  immense — permanent  not  transient — universal  not  local, 


STATE  CAPITOL  OF  ILLISOIS. 


470 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS 


and  the  debate  attracted  profound  atten- 
tion on  the  part  of  the  people,  whether 
democratic  or  free  soil,  from  the  Kennebec 
to  the  Rio  Grande.  Briefly  stated,  Mr. 
Douglas  took  the  position  in  this  contro- 
versy, that  the  vote  of  a  majority  of  the 


man  were  closely  scanned.  Finally,  after 
the  true  western  style,  a  joint  discussion, 
face  to  face,  between  Lincoln  and  Douglas, 
as  the  two  great  representative  leaders, 
was  proposed  and  agreed  to, — seven  public 
debates,  one  each  at  Ottawa,  Freeport, 


DEBATE   BETWEEN    LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


people  of  a  territory  should  decide  this  as 
well  as  all  other  questions  concerning  their 
domestic  or  internal  affairs,  and  this  theory 
came  to  be  known  as  that  of  "  Popular 
Sovereignty."  Mr.  Lincoln,  on  the  con- 
trary, urged  in  substance,  the  necessity 
of  an  organic  enactment  excluding  slavery 
in  any  form, — this  latter  to  be  the  condi- 
tion of  its  admission  into  the  Union  as  a 
State. 

The  public  mind  was  divided,  and  the 
utterances  and  movements  of  every  public 


Jonesboro",  Charleston,  Galfshm-g,  Quincy, 
and  Alton, — the  seven  oratorical  tourna- 
ments being  thus  held  in  all  quarters  of 
the  state,  from  the  extreme  of  one  point 
of  the  compass  to  the  extreme  of  the  op- 
posite, and  everywhere  the  different  par- 
ties turned  out  to  do  honor  to  their  cham- 
pions. Processions  and  cavalcades,  bands 
of  music  and  cannon-firing,  made  every 
day  a  day  of  excitement  But  far  greater 
was  the  excitement  of  such  oratorical  con- 
tests between  two  such  skilled  debaters, 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


471 


before  mixed  audiences  of  friends  and  foes, 
to  rejoice  over  every  keen  thrust  at  the 
adversary,  ajid,  again,  to  he  cast  down  by 
each  failure  to  "give  hack  as  good,"  or  to 
parry  the  thrust  so  aimed. 

In  person,  appearance,  voice,  gesture, 
and  general  platform  style  and  impres- 
sion, nothing  COold  exceed  the  dissimilarity 
of  these  two  speakers.  Mr.  Douglas 
possessed  a  natural  build  or  frame  and 
physique  uncommonly  attractive, — a  pres- 
ence which  would  have  gained  for  him 
access  to  the  highest  circles,  however 
courtly,  in  any  land;  a  thick-set,  finely- 
built,  courageous  man,  with  an  air,  as 
natural  to  him  as  his  breath,  of  self-con- 
fidence that  did  not  a  little  to  inspire  his 
supporters  with  hope.  That  he  was  every 
inch  a  man,  no  friend  or  foe  ever  ques- 
tioned. Eeady,  forceful,  animated,  keen 
and  trenchant,  as  well  as  playful,  by  turns, 
and  thoroughly  unartificial,  he  was  one  of 
the  most  admirable  platform  speakers  that 
ever  appeared  before  an  American  audi- 
ence,— his  personal^  geniality,  too,  being 
so  abounding,  that,  excepting  in  a  polit- 
ical sense,  no  antagonism  existed  between 
him  and  his  opponent. 

Mr.  Lincoln's  personal  appearance  was 
in  unique  contrast  with  that  presented  by 
Mr.  Douglas.  He  stood  about  six  feet 
and  four  inches  high  in  his  stockings ; 
long  lean,  and  wiry  ;  in  motion,  he  had  a 
great  deal  of  the  elasticity  and  awkward- 
ness which  indicated  the  rough  training 
of  his  early  life ;  his  face  genial  looking, 
with  good  humor  lurking  in  every  corner 
of  its  innumerable  angles.  As  a  speaker 
he  was  ready,  precise,  fluent,  and  his  man- 
ner before  a  popular  assembly  was  just  as 
he  pleased  to  make  it,  being  either  superla- 
tively ludicrous,  or  very  impressive.  He 
employed  but  little  gesticulation,  but, 
when  desiring  to  make  a  point,  produced 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  an  elevation  of 
his  eyebrows,  a  depression  of  his  mouth, 
and  a  general  malformation  of  countenance 
so  comically  awkward  that  it  never  failed 
to  'bring  down  the  house.'  His  enuncia- 
tion was  slow  and  emphatic,  and  his  voice, 
though  sharp  and  powerful,  at  times  had 


a  tendency  to  dwindle  into  a  shrill  and 
unpleasant  sound.  In  this  matter  of  voice 
and  of  commanding  attitude,  so  as  to  af- 
fect the  multitude,  the  odds  were  quite  in 
favor  of  Mr.  Douglas. 

The  arrangements,  places,  etc.,  for  the 
great  debate,  having,  as  alread}'  remarked, 
been  perfected,  the  first  discussion  took  I 
place,  August  21st,  at  Ottawa,  in  La  Salle 
county,  a  strong  republican  district.  The 
crowd  in  attendance  was  a  large  one,  and 
about  equally  divided  in  political  senti- 
ment— the  enthusiasm  of  the  democracy 
having  brought  out  more  than  a  due  pro- 
portion, if  anything,  of  that  party,  to  hear 
and  see  their  favorite  leader,  Douglas. 
His  thrilling  tones,  his  manly  defiance  to- 
wards the  enemies  of  the  party,  assured 
his  friends,  if  any  assurance  were  wanting, 
that  he  was  the  same  unconquered  and 
unconquerable  democrat  that  for  twenty- 
five  years  he  had  proved  to  be.  Douglas 
opened  the  discussion  and  spoke  one  hour; 
Lincoln  followed,  the  time  assigned  him 
being  an  hour  and  a  half,  though  he 
yielded  a  portion  of  it  before  the  expira- 
tion of  its  limit. 

In  this  first  debate,  Mr.  Douglas  ar- 
raigned his  opponent  for  the  expression 
in  a  former  speech  of  "  a  house  divided 
against  itself,"  etc., — referring  to  the 
slavery  and  anti-slavery  sections  of  the 
country  ;  and  Mr.  Lincoln  reiterated  and 
defended  his  assertions  on  that  subject. 
It  was  not  until  the  second  meeting,  how- 
ever, and  those  held  subsequently,  that 
the  debaters  grappled  with  those  profound 
constitutional  questions  and  measures  of 
administration  which  were  so  soon  to  con- 
vulse the  whole  land  and  cause  it  to  stag- 
ger almost  to  the  verge  of  destruction. 
But,  as  Mr.  Lincoln's  position  in  relation 
to  one  or  two  points  growing  out  of  the 
former  speech  referred  to  had  attracted 
great  attention  throughout  the  country, 
he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of 
this  preliminary  meeting  to  reply  to  what 
he  regarded  as  common  misconceptions. 
'Anything,'  he  said,  '  that  argues  me  into 
the  idea  of  perfect  social  and  political 
equality  with  the  negro,  is  but  a  specious 


472 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


and  fantastic  arrangement  of  words,  by 
which  a  man  can  prove  a  horse-chestnut 
to  be  a  chestnut  horse.  I  will  say  here, 
while  upon  this  subject,  that  I  have  no 
purpose,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  interfere 
with  the  institution  of  slavery  in  the 
states  where  it  now  exists.  I  believe  I 
have  no  lawful  right  to  do  so,  and  I  have 
no  inclination  to  do  so.  I  have  no  pur- 
pose to  introduce  political  and  social 
equality  between  the  white  and  the  black 
races.  There  is  a  physical  difference  be- 
tween the  two,  which,  in  my  judgment, 
will  probably  forever  forbid  their  living 
together  upon  a  footing  of  perfect  equal- 
ity, and  inasmuch  as  it  becomes  a  matter 
of  necessity  that  there  must  be  a  differ- 
ence, I,  as  well  as  Judge  Douglas,  am  in 
favor  of  the  race  to  which  I  belong  having 
the  superior  position.  I  have  never  said 
anything  to  the  contrary,  but  I  hold  that, 
notwithstanding  all  this,  there  is  no  rea- 
son in  the  world  why  the  negro  is  not  en- 
titled to  all  the  natural  rights  enumerated 
in  the  Declaration  of  Independence — the 
right  to  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuits  of 
happiness.  I  hold  that  he  is  as  much  en- 
titled to  these  as  the  white  man.  I  agree 
with  Judge  Douglas  he  is  not  my  equal  in 
many  respec's — certainly  not  in  color, 
perhaps  not  in  moral  or  intellectual  en- 
dowment. But,  in  the  right  to  eat  the 
bread,  without  the  leave  of  any  one  else, 
which  his  own  hand  earns,  he  is  my  equal, 
and  the  equal  of  Judge  Douglas,  and  the 
equal  of  every  living  man.' 

Touching  the  question  of  respect  or 
weight  of  opinion  due  to  deliverances  of 
the  United  States  Supreme  Court, — an 
element  which  entered  largely  into  this 
national  contest,  —  Mr.  Lincoln  said  : 
'  This  man  sticks  to  a  decision  which  for- 
bids the  people  of  a  territory  from  exclud- 
ing slavery,  and  he  does  so  not  because  he 
says  it  is  right  in  itself — he  does  not  give 
any  opinion  on  that, — but  because  it  has 
been  decided  by  the  court,  and  being  de- 
cided by  the  court,  he  is,  and  you  are 
bound  to  take  it  in  your  political  action 
as  law ;  not  that  he  judges  at  all  of  its 
merits,  but  because  a  decision  of  the  court 


is  to  him  a  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord.'  He 
places  it  on  that  ground  alone,  and  you 
will  bear  in  mind  that,  thus  committing 
himself  unreservedly  to  this  decision,  com- 
mits him  to  the  next  one  just  as  firmly  as 
to  this.  He  did  not  commit  himself  on 
account  of  the  merit  or  demerit  of  the  de- 
cision, but  it  is  a  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord.' 
The  next  decision,  as  much  as  this,  will 
be  a  '  Thus  saith  the  Lord.'  There  is 
nothing  that  can  divert  or  turn  him  away 
from  this  decision.  It  is  nothing  that  I 
point  out  to  him  that  his  great  prototype, 
Gen  Jackson,  did  not  believe  in  the 
binding  force  of  deci.-ions, — it  is  nothing 
to  him  that  Jefferson  did  not  so  be- 
lieve. I  have  said  that  I  have  often  heard 
him  approve  of  Jackson's  course  in  disre- 
garding the  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court 
pronouncing  a  National  Bank  unconstitu- 
tional. He  says  I  did  not  hear  him  say 
so ;  he  denies  the  accuracy  of  my  recollec- 
tion. I  say  he  ought  to  know  better  than 
I,  but  I  will  make  no  question  about  this 
thing,  though  it  still  seems  to  me  that  I 
heard  him  say  it  twenty  times.  I  will 
tell  him  though,  that  he  now  claims  to 
stand  on  the  Cincinnati  platform,  which 
affirms  that  Congress  cannot  charter  a 
National  Bank,  in  the  teeth  of  that  old 
standing  decision  that  Congress  can  char- 
ter a  bank.  And  I  remind  him  of  another 
piece  of  history  on  the  question  of  respect 
for  judicial  decisions,  and  it  is  a  piece  of 
Illinois  history  belonging  to  a  time  when 
the  large  party  to  which  Judge  Douglas  be- 
longed were  displeased  with  a  decision  of 
the  Supreme  Court  of  Illinois,  because 
they  had  decided  that  a  Governor  could 
not  remove  a  Secretary  of  State.  I  know 
that  Judge  Douglas  will  not  deny  that  he 
was  then  in  favor  of  overslaughing  that 
decision  by  the  mode  of  adding  five  new 
judges,  so  as  to  vote  down  the  four  old 
ones.  Not  only  so,  but  it  ended  in  the 
Judge's  sitting  down  on  that  very  bench 
as  one  of  the  five  new  judges  to  break  down 
the  four  old  ones'.  In  this  strain  Mr. 
Lincoln  occupied  most  of  his  time. 

But,  if  the  opponents  of  Judge  Douglas 
•were    elated    at  the    animated   effort    put 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


473 


forth  by  his  rival,  at  Ottawa  the  debate 
which  followed  at  Freeport  gave  ample  op- 
portunity for  the  Judge  to  exhibit  his 
great  intellectual  prowess,  nor  did  he  fail 
to  improve  it. 

At  this  meeting,  Mr.  Lincoln  pro- 
pounded certain  questions,  and  to  these 
prompt  and  vigorous  response  was  made. 
'  He  desires  to  know,  If  the  people  of 
Kansas  shall  form  a  Constitution  by 
means  entirely  proper  and  unobjectionable, 
and  ask  admission  into  the  Union  as  a 
state  before  they  have  the  requisite  popu- 
lation for  a  member  of  Congress,  whether 
I  will  vote  for  that  admission  ?  Well, 
now,  I  regret  exceedingly  that  he  did  not 
answer  that  interrogatory  himself  before 
he  put  it  to  me,  in  order  that  we  might 
understand,  and  not  be  left  to  infer,  on 
which  side  he  is.  Mr.  Trumbull,  during 
the  last  session  of  Congress,  voted  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end  against  the  ad- 
mission of  Oregon,  although  a  free  state, 
because  she  had  not  the  requisite  popula- 
tion for  a  member  of  Congress.  Mr. 
Trumbull  would  not,  under  any  circum- 
stances, consent  to  let  a  state,  free  or 
slave,  come  into  the  Union  until  it  had 
the  requisite  population.  As  Mr.  Trum- 
bull is  in  the  field  fighting  for  Mr.  Lin- 
coln, I  would  like  to  have  Mr.  Lincoln 
answer  his  own  question,  and  tell  me 
whether  he  is  fighting  Trumbull  on  that 
issue  or  not.  But  I  will  answer  his  ques- 
tion. In  reference  to  Kansas,  it  is  my 
opinion  that,  as  she  has  population  enough 
to  constitute  a  slave  state,  she  has  people 
enough  for  a  free  state.  I  will  not  make 
Kansas  an  exceptional  case  to  the  other 
states  of  the  Union.  I  hold  it  to  be  a 
sound  rule,  of  universal  application,  to  re- 
quire a  territory  to  contain  the  requisite 
population  for  a  member  of  Congress  be- 
fore it  is  admitted  as  a  state  into  the 
Union.  I  made  that  proposition  in  the 
Senate  in  1856,  and  I  renewed  it  during 
the  last  session,  in  a  bill  providing  that  no 
territory  of  the  United  States  should  form 
a  Constitution  and  apply  for  admission 
until  it  had  the  requisite  population.  On 
another  occasion,  I  proposed  that  neither 


Kansas,  nor  any  other  territory,  should  be 
admitted  until  it  had  the  requisite  popula- 
tion. Congress  did  not  adopt  any  of  my 
propositions  containing  this  general  rule, 
but  did  make  an  exception  of  Kansas.  I 
will  stand  by  that  exception.  Either 
Kansas  must  come  in  as  a  free  state,  with 
whatever  population  she  may  have,  or  the 
rule  must  be  applied  to  all  the  other  ter- 
ritories alike.' 

Mr.  Douglas  next  proceeded  to  answer 
another  question  proposed  by  Mr.  Lincoln, 
namely,  Whether  the  people  of  a  territory 
can  in  any  lawful  way,  against  the  wishes 
of  any  citizen  of  the  United  States,  ex- 
clude slavery  from  their  limits  prior  to  the 
formation  of  a  -state  Constitution.  Said 
Mr.  Douglas  :  '  I  answer  emphatically, 
as  Mr.  Lincoln  has  heard  me  answer  a 
hundred  times  from  every  stump  in  Illi- 
nois, that  in  my  opinion  the  people  of  a 
territory  can,  \>y  lawful  means,  exclude 
slavery  from  their  limits  prior  to  the  forma- 
tion of  a  state  Constitution.  Mr.  Lincoln 
knew  that  I  had  answered  that  question 
over  and  over  again.  He  heard  me  argue 
the  Nebraska  Bill  on  that  principle  all  over 
the  state  in  1854,  in  1855,  and  in  1856,  and 
he  has  no  excuse'for  pretending  to  be  in 
doubt  as  to  my  position  on  that  question. 
It  matters  not  what  way  the  Supreme 
Court  may  hereafter  decide  as  to  the  ab* 
stract  question  whether  slavery  may  or 
may  not  go  into  a  territory  under  the  Con- 
stitution, the  people  have  the  lawful  means 
to  introduce  it  or  exclude  it  as  they  please, 
for  the  reason  that  slavery  cannot  exist  a 
day  or  an  hour  unless  it  is  supported  by 
•local  police  regulations.  Those  police 
regulations  can  only  be  established  by  the 
local  legislature,  and  if  the  people  are  op? 
posed  to  slavery  they  will  elect  represent* 
tives  to  that  body  who  will,  by  unfriendly 
legislation,  effectually  prevent  the  intro- 
duction  of  it  into  their  midst.  If,  on  the 
contrary,  they  are  for  it,  their  legislation 
will  favor  its  extension.  Hence,  no  mat- 
ter what  the  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court 
may  be  on  that  abstract  question,  still  the 
right  of  the  people  to  make  a  slave  terri- 
tory or  a  free  territory  is  perfect  and  com- 


474 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


plete  under  the  Nebraska  Bill.'  This 
right  or  freedom  of  the  people  thus  to  act, 
and  which  Mr.  Douglas  so  strenuously  ad- 
vocated, was  commonly  termed  '  Popular 
Sovereignty,'  and,  as  one  of  the  battle- 
cries  in  the  great  contests,  was  most  ef- 
fectively used. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of 
this  memorable  debate,  covering  as  it  did 
almost  the  whole  issue  involved  in  the 
canvass,  consisted  of  the  following  inter- 
rogatories propounded  by  Mr.  Douglas, 
and  II r  Lincoln's  replies: — 

Mr.  Douglas  :  I  desire  to  know  whether 
Lincoln  to-day  stands,  as  he  did  in  1854, 
in  favor  of  the  unconditional  repeal  of  the 
Fugitive  Slave  law  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln :  I  do  not  now,  nor  ever 
did,  stand  in  favor  of  the  unconditional 
repeal  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  law 

Mr.  Douglas  :  I  desire  him  to  answer 
whether  he  stands  pledged  to-day,  as  he 
did  in  1854,  against  the  admission  of  any 
more  slave  states  into  the  Union,  even  if 
the  people  want  them  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln  :  I  do  not  now,  or  ever 
did,  stand  pledged  against  the  admission 
of  any  more  slave  states  into  the  Union. 

Mr.  Douglas  :  I  want  to  know  whether 
he  stands  pledged  against  the  admission 
of  a  new  state  into  the  Union  with  such  a 
Constitution  as  the  people  of  that  state 
may  see  fit  to  make  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln  :  I  do  not  stand  pledged 
against  the  admission  of  a  new  state  into 
the  Union,  with  such  a  Constitution  as 
the  people  of  that  state  may  see  fit  to 
make. 

Mr.  Douglas :  I  want  to  know  whether 
he  stands  to-day  pledged  to  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  District  of  Columbia  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln :  I  do  not  stand  to-day 
pledged  to  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
District  of  Columbia. 

Mr.  Douglas  :  I  desire  him  to  answer 
whether  he  stands  pledged  to  the  prohibi- 
tion of  the  slave-trade  between  the  differ- 
ent states  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln :  I  do  not  stand  pledged 
to  the  prohibition  of  the  slave-trade  be- 
tween the  different  states. 


Mr.  Douglas  :  I  desire  to  know  whether 
he  stands  pledged  to  prohibit  slavery  in 
all  the  territories  of  the  United  States, 
North  as  well  as  South  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  line  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln :  I  am  impliedly,  if  not 
expressly,  pledged  to  a  belief  in  the  right 
and  duty  of  Congress  to  prohibit  slavery 
in  all  the  United  States  territories. 

Mr.  Douglas  :  I  desire  him  to  answer 
whether  he  is  opposed  to  the  acquisition 
of  any  new  territory  unless  slavery  is  first 
prohibited  therein  ? 

Mr.  Lincoln  :  I  am  not  generally  op- 
posed to  honest  acquisition  of  territory ; 
and,  in  any  given  case,  I  would  or  would 
not  oppose  such  acquisition,  according  as 
I  might  think  such  acquisition  would  or 
would  not  aggravate  the  slavery  question 
among  ourselves. 

It  was  with  great  vigor  and  adroitness 
that  the  two  distinguished  combatants 
went  over  the  ground  covered  by  the  above 
questions,  at  the  remaining  five  places  of 
debate,  all  of  which  were  attended  and 


listened  to  by  immense  concourses.  On 
both  sides  the  speeches  were  able,  elo- 
quent, exhaustive.  It  was  admitted  by 
Lincoln's  friends,  that,  on  several  occa- 
sions, he  was  partly  foiled  or,  at  least, 
badly  bothered,  while,  on  the  other  hand, 


DEBATE  BETWEEN  LINCOLN  AND  DOUGLAS. 


475 


Douglas'  admirers  allowed  that,  in  more 
than  one  instance,  he  was  flatly  and  fairly 
floored  by  Lincoln's  logic,  wit,  good  hu- 
mor and  frankness.  Douglas,  while  more 
brusque  and  resolute,  was  also  rather  the 
superior  of  the  two  in  a  certain  force,  direct- 
ness and  determination,  that  greatly  helped 
his  side.  But  it  was,  altogether,  about  an 
equal  match  in  respect  to  the  ability  dis- 
played by  these  foremost  champions.  Both 
of  them  were  self-made  men ;  both  of 
them  able  lawyers  and  politicians ;  both 
sprang  from  obscurity  to  distinction ;  both 
belonged  to  the  common  people  ;  and  both 
were  strong  and  popular  with  the  masses. 
The  portrait  which  we  give  of  Mr.  Doug- 
las (Mr.  Lincoln's  will  be  found  in  another 
part  of  this  volume)  represents  him  at  this 
victorious  stage  in  his  career. 

As  for  the  result,  Lincoln  took  more  of 
the  popular  vote  than  Douglas,  but  the 
latter  secured  a  majority  in  the  legislature, 
— sufficient  to  insure  his  re-election  to  the 
United  States  senate,  and  this  majority 


would  probably  have  been  greater,  but  for 
the  hostility  towards  him  of  a  certain  por- 
tion of  his  own  party,  who  favored  a  more 
thorough  southern  or  pro-slavery  policy 
than  Douglas  would  consent  to. 

In  May,  1860,  the  [Republican  Nomi- 
nating Convention  met  at  Chicago,  111.,  and 
after  successive  ballots,  Mr.  Lincoln  was 
chosen  standard-bearer  of  the  party  in  the 
presidential  contest.  His  election  followed 
in  November  ensuing.  Mr.  Douglas  failed 
of  a  nomination  at  the  Democratic  conven- 
tion. Secession  raised  its  gory  front. 
Forgetting  past  differences,  Douglas  mag- 
nanimously stood  shoulder  to  shoulder 
with  Lincoln  in  behalf  of  the  Union.  It- 
was  the  olive  branch  of  genuine  patriotism. 
But,  while  proudly  holding  aloft  the  ban- 
ner of  his  country  in  the  councils  of  the 
nation,  and  while  yet  the  blood  of  his 
countrymen  had  not  drenched  the  land, 
the  great  senator  was  suddenly  stricken 
from  among  the  living,  in  the  hour  of  the 
republic's  greatest  need. 


Lvm. 

PETROLEUM    EXCITEMENT   IN   PENNSYLVANIA.— 1859- 


Discovery  of  Prodigious  Quantities  of  Illuminating  Oil  in  the  Depths  of  the  Earth. — Boring  of  Innu- 
merable Wells. — Fabulous  Prices  Paid  for  Lands.— Poor  Farmers  Become  Millionaires. — The  Supply 
of  Oil  Exceeds  the  Wants  of  the  Whole  Country. — Immense  Exportation  of  the  Article. — Vast 
Source  of  National  Wealth  and  Industry. — Revolution  in  Artificial  Light. — Ancient  Knowledge  of 
tliis  Oil. — Floating  on  Ponds  and  Creeks — Its  Collection  and  Use. — Native  Sources  :  Origin. — Local- 
ity of  the  Springs — Great  Value  of  the  Oil — First  Attempt  at  Boring. — Plans  for  Sinking  Wells. — 
Their  Exhaustless  Yield. — Intense  Excitement  Prevails. — Eager  Crowds  at  the  Oil  Region. — Buying 
and  Leasing  Lands. — Enterprise  of  the  Pioneers. — Sudden  Fortunes  Made.— Other  Side  of  the  Pic- 
ture.— Towns  and  Cities  Built— Fire :  Awful  Scenes  and  Losses. — Bringing  the  Oil  into  Market. — 
Its  Cheapness  and  Excellence. — Universal  Introduction. — Valuable  for  Various  Purposes. 


•*  The  rock  poured  me  out  river*  of  oil. "-JOB. 


ICHEE,  than  the  gold  mines  of  California,  in  the  qualities  of 
usefulness  and  convenience  to  the  human  race,  are  the  oil 
wells  which,  so  unexpectedly  to  the  country 
and  the  world,  spouted  forth  their  liquid 
treasures  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  in  the 
year  1859,  and  in  such  quantities  as  soon  to 
revolutionize  both  the  material  and  mode  of 
artificial  illumination,  —  bringing  untold 
wealth  into  regions  hitherto  comparatively 
valueless, — creating,  almost  as  if  by  magic, 
new,  vast,  and  profitable  industries,  —  and 
well-nigh  realizing  the  wildest  conceptions  of 
sudden  and  golden  fortune  found  in  Arabian 
legends. 

But,  even  long  prior  to  the  year  just  named,  the  existence  of  this 
oleaginous  substance  vas  known  at  the  head-waters  of  the  Alleghany 
river  in  New  York  and  Pennsylvania.  A  writer  in  the  American 
Cyclopedia  states  that  the  Indians  collected  it  on  the  shores  of  Seneca 
lake,  and  it  was  sold  as  a  medicine  by  the  name  of  Seneca  or  Genesee  oil.  A  stream  in 
Alleghany  county,  New  York,  was  named  Oil  creek,  in  consequence  of  the  appearance 
of  oil  in  its  banks ;  and  the  same  name  was  given  to  another  branch  of  the  Alleghany 
river  in  Venango  county,  Pennsylvania.  Several  localities  are  designated  upon  the  old 
maps  of  this  part  of  the  country  as  affording  oil;  and  upon  Oil  creek  in  Venango 
county,  two  spots  were  particularly  noted,  one  of  which  was  close  to  the  north  line  of  the 
county,  and  one  about  twelve  miles  further  down  the  stream.  At  these  points,  springs 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


477 


issued  from  the  banks  of  the  stream,  bring- 
ing up  more  or  less  oil,  which  collected 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water  as  it  stood 
in  the  pools  below  the  springs.  The 
inhabitants  were  accustomed  to  collect  the 
oil  by  spreading  woolen  cloths  upon  the 
water,  and  wringing  them  when  saturated. 
Down  the  valley  of  this  creek  there  are 
numerous  ancient  pits  which  appear  to 
have  been  excavated  for  the  purpose  of 
collecting  oil,  but  by  whom  made  no  one 
can  now  tell.  From  the  fact  that  logs  have 
been  found  in  them  notched  as  if  with  an 
axe,  some  have  supposed  that  the  work  was 
done  by  the  French,  who  occupied  this 
region  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century  ; 
but  others  believe  that  the  Indians,  who 
are  known  to  have  valued  the  oil,  dug  the 
pits.  Day,  in  his  history  of  Pennsylvania, 
gives  an  account  of  the  estimadon  in  which 
they  held  this  product,  using  it  mixed  with 
paint  to  anoint  themselves  for  war,  and 
also  employing  it  in  their  religious  rites. 
He  quotes  an  interesting  letter  from  the 
commander  of  Fort  Duquesne  to  General 
Montcalm,  describing  an  assembly  of  the 
Indians  by  night  on  the  banks  of  the  creek, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  ceremonies  their 
firing  the  scum  of  oil  that  had  collected 
upon  the  surface  of  the  water.  As  the 
flames  burst  forth,  illuminating  the  dark 
valley,  there  rose  from  the  Indians  around 
triumphant  shouts  that  made  the  hills 
re-echo  again. 

As  early  as  1826,  the  knowledge  that 
such  a  natural  illuminating  substance  ex- 
isted on  the  Little  Muskingum  river,  in 
Ohio,  was  quite  general,  on  account  of  its 
appearance  in  the  wells  that  were  bored  in 
that  region  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
salt.  In  a  communication  to  the  American 
Journal  of  Science  for  the  year  1826,  by 
Doctor  Hildreth,  he  says  :  They  have  sunk 
two  wells,  which  are  now  more  than  four 
hundred  feet  in  depth  ;  one  of  them  affords 
a  very  strong  and  pure  water,  but  not  in 
great  quanti  ty.  The  other  discharges  such 
yast  quantities  of  petroleum,  or,  as  it  is 
vulgarly  called,  '  Seneka  oil,'  and  beside  is 
subject  to  such  tremendous  explosions  of 
gas  as  to  force  out  all  the  water  and  afford 


nothing  but  gas  for  several  days,  that  they 
make  but  little  or  no  salt.  Nevertheless, 
the  petroleum  affords  considerable  profit, 
and  is  beginning  to  be  in  demand  for  lamps 
in  workshops  and  manufactories.  It  affords 
a  brisk,  clear  light,  when  burnt  in  this  way, 
and  will  be  a  valuable  article  for  lighting 
the  street-lamps  in  the  future  cities  of 
Ohio. 

So  useful  was  the  product  of  the  oil 
springs  gradually  found  to  be,  that,  in 
1854,  the  Pennsylvania  Eock  Oil  Company 
was  formed.  It  is  said,  by  a  writer 
thoroughly  conversant  with  the  subject, 
and  from  whose  well-stored  pamphlet, 
"The  Petroleum  Region  of  America," 
much  of  the  information  here  given  is 
drawn,  that  this  was  the  first  oil  company 
ever  formed,  and  was  also  prior  to  the  sink- 
ing of  any  well,  and  before  any  such  thing 
was  suggested.  Great  quantities  of  the 
oil  had,  however,  been  collected  during  the 
year  1853,  by  absorbing  it  in  blankets, 
and  wringing  it  out, — a  method  originated 
by  Dr.  F.  B.  Brewer,  of  the  eminent  firm 
of  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co.,  so  conspicuous 
in  their  efforts  to  develop  the  wonderful 
resources  of  the  oil  region.  The  Pennsyl- 
vania Rock  Oil  Company  purchased  one 
hundred  acres  of  land  on  Oil  Creek,  below 
Titusville,  for  the  purpose  of  collecting 
tho  surface  oil,  but  the  project  was  in  a 
short  time  abandoned. 

No  important  progress  took  place  in  the 
business  until  the  winter  of  1857,  when 
Col.  E.  L.  Drake,  of  Connecticut,  arrived 
at  Titusville,  and  he  was  the  first  man  who 
attempted  to  bore  for  oil.  In  December, 
1857,  he  visited  Titusville,  examined  the 
oil  springs,  and  gave  the  subject  of  sur- 
face oil  a  thorough  investigation.  He 
soon  concluded  that  rock  oil  could  be  ob- 
tained by  sinking  a  well ;  and  acting  upon 
this,  he,  in  company  with  James  M.  Town- 
send  and  E.  B.  Bowditch,  leased  the  lands 
of  the  Pennsylvania  Rock  Oil  Company, 
for  the  term  of  twenty-five  years,  for  the 
purpose  of  boring  for  oil.  The  operations 
were  to  commence  the  following  spring. 
Soon  after  closing  this  lease,  Colonel 
Drake  and  friends  from  Connecticut  formed 


478 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


<i  company  called  the  Seneca  Oil  Company, 
for  the  purpose  of  working  the  lands  and 
sinking  wells,  under  the  management  and 
control  of  Colonel  Drake.  Early  in  the 
spring  he  removed  his  lamily  to  Titusville, 
then  containing  not  over  one  hundred  and 
fifty  inhabitants.  He  first  informed  him- 
self thoroughly  on  the  subject  of  boring, 
and  visited  the  salt-wells  on  the  Alleghany 
river  for  that  purpose,  where,  after  some 
difficulty,  he  employed  a  man  who  agreed 
to  sink  wells  for  the  Seneca  company;  but 
he  and  others  to  whom  he  had  applied 
failed  to  keep  their  engagements,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  following  spring,  that  he 
could  obtain  a  suitable  person  to  commence 
the  well. 


lying  along  the  valley  of  Oil  Creek  and 
its  tributaries  in  Venango,  Warren,  and 
Crawford  counties.  The  Drake  well — the 
first  ever  sunk  for  oil,  and  the  first  petro- 
leum ever  obtained  by  boring — was  imme- 
diately thronged  with  visitors,  and  within 
two  or  three  weeks  thousands  began  to 
pour  in  from  the  neighboring  states. 
Everybody  was  eager  to  purchase  or  lease 
oil-lands  at  any  price  demanded.  Almost 
in  a  night,  a  wilderness  of  derricks  sprang 
up  and  covered  the  entire  bottom  lands  of 
Oil  Creek.  Merchants  abandoned  their 
storehouses,  farmers  dropped  their  ploughs, 
lawyers  deserted  their  offices,  and  preach- 
ers their  pulpits.  The  entire  wrestern 
part  of  the  state,  in  especial,  became  so 


PETROLEUM  WELLS 


Boring  through  forty-seven  feet  of 
gravel  and  twenty-two  feet  of  shale  rocks, 
with  occasional  small  apertures  in  it,  he 
struck,  on  the  twent3--ninth  of  August, 
1859,  at  the  depth  of  about  seventy  feet, 
a  large  opening,  filled  with  coal  oil,  some- 
what mixed  with  water  and  gas.  A  small 
pump  on  hand  brought  up  from  four 
hundred  to  five  hundred  gallons  of  oil 
a  day.  An  explosion  soon  blew  it  up. 
One  of  three  times  its  size  and  power 
was  put  in  its  place,  and  during  the 
first  four  days  threw  up  five  thousand 
gallons  of  oil — one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  fifty  gallons  per  day,  or  one  gallon 
per  minute  for  twenty  hours  fifty  minutes 
per  day. 

And  now  commenced  an  intense  excite- 
ment in  all  the  oil-region  of  Pennsylvania, 


IN  PENXSYLVANIA. 

wild  with  excitement  upon  the  subject, 
that  scarcely  anything  else  was  thought  of. 
Very  soon  after  the  success  of  Colonel 
Drake,  Messrs.  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co. 
leased  the  farm  of  Hamilton  M'Clintock, 
and  commenced  a  well  on  it,  which  was 
successful  at  the  depth  of  seventy  feet; 
then  followed  the  sinking  of  many  wells  on 
the  different  farms  on  Oil  Creek.  The 
Barnsdell  Mead  and  Rouse  well  was 
opened  in  the  spring  of  1860;  then  the 
Crosley  well,  in  April  of  the  same  year. 
During  this  summer,  many  wells  were 
opened  in  the  vicinity  of  Tideoute  on  the 
Alleghany  river.  In  June,  1861,  A.  B. 
Funk  sunk  a  well  four  hundred  and  sev- 
enty feet  deep,  on  the  M'lllheny  farm, 
which  was  the  first  large  flowing  well. 
Then  followed  the  Brewer,  Watson  &  Co. 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


479 


well  on  the  G.  "W.  M'Clintock  farm,  the 
Phillips  well  on  the  Tarr  farm,  the  Willard 
well  on  the  H.  M'Clintock  farm,  and  the 
Rouse,  Mitchell,  and  Brown  well  on  the 
Buchanan  farm.  This  latter  well  flowed  a 
stream  of  oil  without  pumping,  equal  to 
one  thousand  barrels  per  day.  In  every 
direction,  new  borings  were  undertaken, 
and  new  discoveries  of  flowing  wells  were 
made,  almost  daily ;  while  other  regions  of 
similar  geological  structure  were  carefully 
explored  for  evidence  of  their  capacity  for 
producing  oil.  Soon  there  were  oil-wells, 
— either  pumping  or  flowing,  —  yielding 
considerable  quantities,  in  Western  Vir- 
ginia, Kentucky,  Ohio,  and  Canada;  and, 
subsequently,  discoveries  were  made  of  the 
existence  of  petroleum  in  large  quantities 
in  California  and  in  some  of  the  north- 
western states.  At  first,  vast  quantities 
of  oil  flowed  into  the  creek 
and  were  wasted,  before  suit- 
able tanks  could  be  prepared 
to  receive  it;  but  after  a 
while,  the  flowing  wells  were 
fitted  with  strong  tubing 
and  stop-cocks,  by  means  of 
which  the  supply  was  en- 
tirely controlled. 

As  might  well  be  expected,  the  owners 
of  farms  in  the  oil-regions  believed  that 
the  fortune  of  almost  unlimited  wealth  had 
now  smiled  upon  them,  and  (says  Eaton, 
in  his  exhaustive  and  invaluable  work  on 
the  subject,)  the  price  of  lands  throughout 
its  whole  extent,  from  the  new  well  to  the 
Alleghany,  immediately  rose  to  a  very  high 
figure.  Sometimes  entire  farms  were  sold, 
but  generally  they  were  leased  in  quite 
small  lots.  The  terms  of  lease  were  at 
first  easy,  the  operators  giving  one-fourth 
or  one-fifth  of  the  oil  as  a  royalty  to  the 
owner  of  the  soil.  Gradually,  the  terms 
became  more  exacting,  until  not  unfre- 
quently  one-half  and  even  five-eighths  of 
the  oil  was  demanded,  with  the  addition  of 
a  considerable  sum  of  money  as  a  bonus. 
Sometimes  the  proprietor  of  the  soil  re- 
quired the  proposed  operator  to  furnish 
him  his  share  in  barrels ;  that  is,  not  only 
turning  him  over  a  third  or  a  half  of  the 


oil,  but  furnishing  him  the  barrels  to  con- 
tain it.  With  this  arrangement,  it  after- 
wards came  about  that,  as  the  price  of  oil 
fell  and  the  price  of  barrels  advanced,  the 
entire  proceeds  of  some  wells  would  hardly 
purchase  barrels  to  contain  the  royalty 
share  pertaining  to  the  owner  of  the  land. 
The  leasing  of  land  for  oil  purposes 
amounted,  at  one  time,  to  a  monopoly,  in 


PROCESS  OF  BOBLXQ  FOB  PETROLEUM. 

some  sections  of  the  oil  valley.  The  land- 
holders in  many  places  were  men  in  very 
moderate  circumstances.  By  great  fru- 
gality, they  had  been  able  to  live  comfort- 
ably, but  had  no  extra  means  with  which 
to  embark  in  speculations.  Sometimes 
they  had  neither  taste  nor  energy  for  this 
business,  or  lacked  frith  in  the  general 
result,  but  were  willing  that  others  should 
embark  in  the  business  by  sharing  the 


480 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


profits  with  them.  In  this  state  of  affairs, 
shrewd  and  enterprising  men  made  a  busi- 
ness, for  a  time,  of  leasing  all  the  lands  in 
certain  L-calities,  with  no  intention  of  oper- 
ating themselves,  but  with  the  design  of 
sub-leasing  to  real  operators. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  occa- 
sioned by  the  prodigious  success  of  the 
Rouse  well,  the  gas  and  oil  issuing  there- 
from took  fire  from  some  unknown  cause, 
and,  as  described  by  an  unknown  witness, 
columns  of  black  smoke  rolled  upward  into 
the  air,  the  blazing  oil  leaped  heavenward, 
and,  falling  over  on  all  sides  from  the  fiery 
jet,  formed  a  magnificent  fountain  of  liquid 
fire.  The  sight  was  awfully  grand,  but, 
sad  to  relate,  involved  a  most  melancholy 
loss  of  life,  no  less  Than  nineteen  human 
beings  meeting  their  death  in  the  flames. 
The  scenes  of  terror  and  woe  accompany- 
ing such  a  catastrophe  can  be  better  imag- 
ined than  described.  Among  the  victims 
of  this  destructive  occurrence  was  Mr. 
Rouse,  one  of  th3  proprietors  of  the  well 
and  a  very  prominent  man  in  the  oil 
region.  Mr.  Rouse  lived  for  several  days 
after  being  injured,  and,  in  framing  his 
will,  after  making  certain  bequests,  left  to 
the  county  of  Warren  a  handsome  sum — 
subsequently  reaching  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars  in  value,  —  to  be 
applied  one-half  for  road  purposes  and  one- 
half  to  the  poor  of  the  county. 

Other  terrible  scenes  caused  by  the  com- 
bustion of  the  oil  and  gas  in  the  wells, — 
of  natural  or  accidental  origin, — though 
happily  not  involving  loss  of  life,  have 
occurred  firom  time  to  time  in  the  oil 
regions.  The  phenomenon  of  the  "burn- 
ing well '  has  been  often  described  as  one 
of  those  grand  and  amazing  exhibitions  to 
be  found  wily  within  the  arena  of  nature's 
kingdom.  Before  approaching  near  enough 
to  see  tlte  well,  (says  an  eye  witness,)  the 
observei's  ears  were  saluted  with  a  roaring 
sound  similar  to  that  of  the  Geysers  in 
Iceland,  and  seemingly  due  to  the  rush  of 
gas  from  the  depths  below,  or  from  the 
flame  itself  as  it  rises  high  in  the  air. 
The  well  was  of  course  bored  for  oil.  It 
had  reached  a  depth  of  some  five  hundred 


feet,  when  the  immense  column  of  gas 
rushed  up  and  became  ignited  from  the 
furnace  of  the  engine.  Soon,  of  course, 
the  derrick,  engine-house,  and  fixtures 
were  consumed,  and  the  engine  itself  a 
wreck.  An  attempt  was  made  to  fill  up 
the  pit  with  earth  and  extinguish  the 
flames.  But  this  proved  a  failure,  as  the 
pressure  of  the  gas  was  so  great  that  it 
rushed  through  the  loose  earth  in  a  thou- 
sand jets,  the  result  being  that  a  column 
of  flame  constantly  emerged  from  the  pit 
equal  to  its  size — about  eight  feet  square ; 
this  column  rose  to  a  height  of  from  fifty 
to  one  hundred  feet,  varying  every  few 
seconds  from  the  minimum  to  the  maxi- 
mum height.  The  pillar,  rough  and  jagged 
in  form,  and  sometimes  divided,  sent  out 
its  tongues  of  flame  in  every  direction. 
As  it  reached  its  greatest  height,  the  top 
of  the  flame  leaped  off  and  was  extin- 
guished. This  was  the  appearance  in 
daylight.  At  night,  the  appearance  was 
awfully  grand  and  imposing.  Every  three 
or  four  seconds,  a  cloud  of  dark  smoke 
rolled  up  with  the  flames,  and,  after  being 
swept  to  its  very  summit,  disappeared. 
Some  visitors  computed  the  height  at  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  roaring  sound 
was  constant,  and  almost  resembled  that 
of  distant  thunder.  For  successive  weeks, 
the  well  continued  to  burn,  with  no  appar- 
ent diminution  in  its  power,  or  in  the 
quantity  of  gas.  At  one  time,  the  phe- 
nomenon assumed  a  very  strange  appear- 
ance. The  atmosphere  was  somewhat 
cloudy,  and,  in  addition  to  the  usual  ruddy 
glow,  the  light  appeared  to  concentrate 
itself  into  a  bright  lance-like  figure,  about 
four  or  five  degrees  in  length,  that  re- 
mained stationary  about  midway  between 
the  horizon  and  the  zenith,  where  it  con- 
tinued all  the  evening.  Immense  destruc- 
tion of  oil  and  other  property,  by  fire,  has, 
in  fact,  taken  place  in  almost  every  part  of 
the  petroleum  region,  from  the  very  first, 
and  in  spite  of  every  precaution. 

The  next  large  flowing  well  that  waa 
opened  was  the  Empire,  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Funk  well,  that  flowed  three  thousand 
barrels  of  oil  per  day.  The  Sherman  well 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


481 


was  opened  in  April,  1862,  then  the  Noble 
and  Delameter  well  in  May,  1863.  This 
celebrated  well  was  commenced  in  1860, 
and  was  bored  to  the  depth  of  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty-seven  feet,  and  then  aban- 
doned. Mr.  Noble  went  further  down  the 
creek  and  became  interested  in  other  wells 
on  the  Tarr  farm,  but  in  the  spring  of 
1863  he  re-commenced  the  work  on  his  old 
well,  and  went  down  to  the  depth  of  four 
hundred  and  seventy-one  feet,  without, 
however,  any  indications  of  oil.  At  that 
depth  he  concluded  to  tube  and  pump, 
abandoning  the  idea  of  obtaining  a  flowing 
well, — but,  to  the  great  astonishment  of 
himself  and  every  one  else,  after  pumping 
a  very  short  time,  suddenly  the  great 
Noble  well  commenced  to  flow.  Long 
before  the  opening  of  this  well,  petroleum 
had  become  so  plenty  that  most  of  the 
pumping  wells  were  abandoned.  Every 
person  wanted  a  flowing  well. 

The  discovery  of  a  method  of  refining  the 
crude  oil  is  said  to  be  due  to  Mr.  Samuel 
M.  Kier,  of  Pittsburg.  Mr.W.  H.  Abbott, 
of  Titusville,  erected  the  first  large  refin- 
ery at  Titusville,  which  was  before  the 
days  of  railroads  in  that  region.  The 
heavy  iron  castings  and  machinery  were 
brought  in  wagons  from  Union  Mills  and 
Franklin,  through  mud  that  was  axle-deep. 
Parties  interested  with  him  became  dis- 
heartened, and  would  have  abandoned  the 
enterprise  had  it  not  been  for  the  energy 
of  Mr.  Abbott,  who  finally  succeeded  in 
completing  his  building.  But  the  really 
great  pioneers  in  the  introduction  of  petro- 
leum in  large  quantities,  were  Brewer, 
Watson  &  Co.,  whose  enterprise  was  so 
determined  and  untiring,  that  they  ex- 
pended neirly  eight  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  cash  for  barrels  alone,  before 
they  realized  one  cent  of  profit.  All  they 
required  was  the  actual  cost  of  the  barrel. 
They  however  ultimately  reaped  a  rich 
harvest  from  their  arduous  efforts  in  this 
new  field  of  business,  and  were  handsomely 
repaid  for  the  hardships  and  trials  through 
which  they  had  passed.  During  the  sum- 
mer of  1861,  Samuel  Downer,  of  Boston, 
established  a  branch  of  his  works  and  com- 


menced the  refining  of  oil  at  Corry,  giving 
his  entire  attention  to  the  business,  and 
during  that  year  his  refinery  absorbed 
nearly  all  of  the  oil  product.  George  M. 
Mowbray,  agent  for  Scheifflin  &  Co.,  of 
New  York,  made  the  first  extensive  pur- 
chase of  petroleum  for  shipment.  Messrs. 
Drake,  Watson,  Brewer,  Kier,  Abbott, 
Mowbray,  Downer,  the  firm  of  Brewer, 
Watson  &  Co.,  and  others,  exerted  theii- 
utmost  endeavors  to  acquaint  the  public 
with  the  value  of  the  article,  and  to  create 
a  demand  equal  to  the  supply ;  but  before 
this  could  be  accomplished,  oil  at  the  wells 
was  offered  for  sale  at  prices  ranging  from 
ten  to  fifty  cents  a  barrel. 

In  consequence  of  the  abundant  supply 
of  the  oil,  its  cheapness,  and  the  continued 
small  demand,  the  entire  oil  i-egions  of 
Pennsylvania,  Virginia,  and  Ohio  became, 
for  a  while,  almost  wholly  deserted,  and 
the  then  so-called  "  oil  bubble  "  exploded. 
Most  of  those  who  had  taken  leases  and 
had  opened  wells,  now  removed  the  tubing, 
sold  their  engines,  tools,  etc.,  and  retired 
from  the  oil  trade  disgusted  with  their 
enterprise,  and,  no  doubt,  much  displeased 
with  themselves,  returned  to  their  deserted 
homes  to  be  ridiculed  by  the  knowing 
ones,  who  *'  always  said  the  undertaking 
would  prove  a  failui-e." 

Much  time,  however,  did  not  elapse 
before  a  new  demand  for  petroleum  was 
created,  and  once  more  thousands  poured 
into  the  oil  regions,  and  ultimately  the 
use  of  petroleum  became  almost  universal, 
as  a  cheap  and  excellent  cil  for  burning. 
So  vast  did  the  business  now  become,  that, 
from  the  third  of  March,  1865,  to  the  close 
of  that  year,  the  quantity  of  crude  petro- 
leum produced  in  the  Venango  county, 
region  was  1,020,126  barrels ;  in  western 
Virginia,  13,666;  in  Ohio,  10,676;  in 
Kentucky,  2,405.  The  trade  involved  in 
this  immense  production  became  the  most 
important  business  of  several  cities  in 
Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  and  New  York,  af- 
fording employment  and  support  for  tens 
of  thousands  of  people. 

An  immense  export  trade  soon  began, 
amounting,  in  1863,  to  252,000  tons' 


482 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


BURNING  OF  ONE  OF  THE  GREAT  OIL  WELLS. 


weight,  or  28,000,000  gallons,  valued  at 
$12,000,000,  and  employing  no  less  than 
252  vessels  of  one  thousand  tons  burden. 
Of  course,  many  hitherto  comparatively 
poor  persons  became  millionaires  all  of  a 
sudden,  and  of  these,  "some  were  wise  and 
some  foolish,"  in  the  use  of  their  wealth. 

An  illustration  of  the  latter  class  was 
that  of  a  widow,  whose  farm  proved  to  be 
one  of  the  earliest  and  best  for  the  produc- 
tion of  oil,  in  the  whole  county  of  Vcnango, 
several  wells  with  products  ranging  from 
two  hundred  to  twenty-five  hundred  bar- 
rels per  day  being  struck  at  intervals,  and 
the  income  in  money  from  the  territory 
proving  almost  fabulous  in  amount.  The 
old  lady  did  not  live  long  to  enjoy  her 
good  fortune,  and,  dying,  left  her  great 
property,  without  any  reservation,  to  her 
adopted  son  John,  then  about  twenty  years 
old.  This  youth, — like  the  hero  of  tha' 
well-known  novel,  "  Half  a  Million  of 
Money,"  who  came  suddenly  into  posses- 
sion of  a  like  sum, — had  not  been  taught 
to  understand  the  value  of  dollars  and 
cents ;  and,  unlike  that  character,  he  had 


no  refined  tastes,  and  threw  his  wealth 
away  with  the  most  lavish  folly.  Of 
course  he  rushed  to  New  York  ;  and  there, 
in  only  a  year  and  a  half,  he  squandered 
two  millions  of  dollars.  Presumably  the 
most  ingenious  extravagance  was  neces- 
sary to  accomplish  this  enormous  result. 
"Johnny,"  as  his  associates  called  him, 
not  only  entered  into  every  species  of 
debauchery,  not  only  lost  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  in  two  nights  at  *faro,  but 
bought  superb  teams  and  gave  them  away 
after  an  hour's  ownership,  supported  a 
swarm  of  human  leeches  of  both  sexes,  and 
even  equipped  a  negro-minstrel  troupe, 
presenting  each  member  with  a'costly  dia- 
mond ring  and  pin.  By-and-by,  however, 
Johnny's  brilliant  career  came  to  a  close, 
and,  oddly  enough,  "he  was  glad  at  last  to 
fill  the  position  of  door-keeper  to  the  trav- 
eling minatrel  company  which  his  own 
munificence  had  organized, — his  farm  on 
Oil  Creek  having  been  disposed  of  at  public 
sale,  for  arrears  due  the  government. 

Time   and  space  would  indeed  fail  to 
adequately  record  the  doings  of  those  sham 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


483 


and  reckless  companies,  which,  availing 
themselves  of  the  oleaginous  fever  and  a 
credulous  public,  involved  themselves  and 
others  in  operations  well-nigh  ruinous. 
One  of  these  companies  selected  a  site  in 
the  woods,  which  had  been  "  prospected  " 
by  one  of  their  number  and  highly  recom- 
mended (located  about  six  miles  from  a 
railroad  station  laid  down  on  the  map,  but 
not  yet  built),  and  having  organized, 
agreed  to  have  the  first  of  a  series  of  pro- 
posed wells  dug,  not  by  contract,  as  was 
usual,  but  by  day's  work.  Having  procured 
the  necessary  tools,  including  a  compass  for 
guidance  in  the  woods,  the  work  was  duly 
proceeded  with,  and  progress  from  time  to 
time  reported.  Calls  for  the  "sinews" 
were  also  made,  and  promptly  met,  until 
the  well  was  said  to  be  down  over  one 
hundred  feet,  with  a  good  show  for  oil. 
This  was  about  the  time  for  the  "Annual 
Meeting,"  and  more  money  being  called 
for.  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  have  the 
well  re-measured  and  reported  on.  Judge 
of  the  surprise  of  the  stockholders  when, 
to  use  the  language  of  one  of  the  patri- 
archs in  oil,  the  force  of  the  oil  from  be- 
low had  shoved  the  hole  up  to  eighty-six 
feet!  Here  was  a  stunner;  and,  as  the 
well  had  already  cost  a  good  round  sum, 
and  the  resources  of  the  company  were 
limited,  matters  continued  to  remain  in 
statu  quo.  The  most  plausible  plan  for 
getting  out  of  the  difficulty  was  that  which 
proposed  to  have  the  balance  of  the  hole 
taken  up  and  cut  into  lengths  for  pump 
logs  ! — a  fair  hit  at  many  of  the  chimerical 
oil  projects  of  that  day. 

Various  opinions  are  entertained  as  to 
the  origin  and  source  of  this  remarkable 
substance.  According  to  Professor  Silli- 
man,  it  is  of  vegetable  origin,  and  was  pro- 
duced by  the  agency  of  subterranean  heat. 
Professor  Dana  says  that  it  is  a  bitumin- 
ous liquid  resulting  from  the  decomposi- 
tion of  marine  or  land  plants,  mainly  the 
latter,  and  perhaps,  also,  of  some  non-nitro- 
genous animal  tissues.  By  many,  it  is 
supposed  to  be  a  product  of  coal ;  some 
supposing  that  the  coal,  being  subjected 
to  the  enormous  pressure  of  the  overlying 


beds,  has  yielded  oil,  as  a  linseed  cake  under 
an  hydraulic  press.  The  theory  has  even 
been  advanced,  that  the  coal,  heated  (as  it 
evidently  has  been  in  the  coal  regions  of 
eastern  Pennsylvania),  gave  off  oily  vapors 
which,  rising  to  the  cold  region  of  the 
upper  air,  condensed,  and  subsequently 
fell  in  oily  showers,  making  its  way  as 
best  it  could  to  the  hollows  of  the  earth's 
interior,  where  now  it  is  found  by  the  oil- 
borer. 

An  extensive  survey  and  examination  of 
the  coal  region  by  Mr.  Kidgeway,  an  emi- 
nent geologist,  convinced  him  that  the 
petroleum  was  not  produced  from  the  coal 
fields,  as  in  that  case  it  would  have  had  to 
flow  up-hill  into  the  oil  basin;  it  is,  rather, 
the  result  of  the  decomposition  of  marine 
plants,  in  the  Oil  Creek  valley,  though 
that  found  in  bituminous  coal  basins,  orig- 
inates, no  doubt,  from  beds  of  coal.  Ac- 
cording to  this  theory,  the  plants  which 
produced  the  oil  in  the  rock  existed  and 
flourished  at  a  long  period  of  time  before 
the  vegetation  which  now  forms  coal  beds  , 
they  are  unlike  the  vegetable  impressions 
found  in  the  accompanying  shales  and 
clays  associated  with  beds  of  coal,  and  they 
grew  where  the  flag-stones  and  shales  of 
Oil  Creek  were  laid  down  by  salt  water 
currents.  The  climate  was  so  hot,  during 
this  age  of  marine  vegetation,  and  the 
growth  of  plants  so  rapid  and  rank,  caused 
by  the  supposed  large  amount  of  carbonic 
acid  and  hydrogen  then  composing  the 
atmosphere,  that  these  conditions  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  produced  plants  contain- 
ing more  hydrogen  and  less  carbon  than 
the  plants  which  produced  coal  beds,  and 
hence  their  fermentation  resulted  in  petro- 
leum. 

But  the  theory  that  the  oil  was  pro- 
duced at  the  time  of  the  original  bitumin- 
ization  of  the  animal  or  vegetable  matter, 
has  many  difficulties  in  its  way,  especially 
the  fact  that  such  large  quantities  of 
inflammable  gas  always  accompany  the  oil. 
That  the  oil  is  a  product,  not  of  coal,  but 
of  coral,  is  the  opinion  of  some ;  and  thus, 
stored  away  in  cells,  forming,  in  the  ag- 
gregate, immense  reefs,  as  it  was  collected 


484 


PETROLEUM  EXCITEMENT  IN  PENNSYLVANIA. 


from  the  impure  waters  of  the  early  oceans 
by  minute  coral  insects,  it  has  been  driven 
by  heat  and  pressure  into  reservoirs  and 
crevices,  where  man's  ingenuity  at  last 
discovered  it. 

Of  the  uses  of  petroleum,  much  might 
be  said.  Unrivaled  and  universal  for  illu- 
mination, it  is  also  valuable  as  a  lubrica- 
tor, and,  in  some  of  its  chemically  prepared 
states,  is  employed  as  a  dryer  in  paints 


and  varnishes.  For  fuel  and  gas  its  util- 
ity has  been  amply  proved.  Medically,  it 
has  been  found  efficacious  in  suppurating 
wounds,  also  in  headache,  toothache,  swell- 
ings, rheumatism,  dislocations,  and  as  a 
disinfectant.  And  even  as  a  base  in  the 
production  of  colors,  some  of  the  most 
gratifying  results  have  followed  the  chem- 
ist's experiments  with  this  wonderful  ar 
ticla 


LIX. 

GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  THE  EMPIRE  OF  JAPAN,  WITH 

A  TREATY  OF  PEACE  AND  COMMERCE,  TO  THE 

UNITED  STATES  GOVERNMENT.— 1860. 


First  Ambassadors  Ever  Sent  from  that  Ancient  Country  to  a  Foreign  Land. — Their  Official  Reception 
by  President  Buchanan,  and  Tour  of  Observation  to  the  Chief  Cities. — Public  Interest  Excited  by 
this  Extraordinary  Mission. — Their  Oriental  Costume,  Manners,  Ceremonies,  etc. — Japanese  Distinc- 
tion Shown  to  Americans.— Character  of  the  Embassy. — Headed  by  Eminent  Princes. — Numerous  and 
Brilliant  Suite. — Arrival  at  Washington. — Procession  to  the  Hotel. — Most  Curious  Spectacle. — How 
the  Treaty  was  Carried. — Ceremonies  at  the  White  House. — Salutations  and  Speeches — Impressive 
International  Scene — Japanese  Diplomacy. — Delivering  the  Tycoon's  Letter. — Personal  Appearance 
of  the  Ambassadors. — President  Buchanan's  Opinion. — Humors  and  Drolleries. — "  Tommy,"  the 
Ladies'  Pet. — Gallantry  to  Miss  Lane. — The  Embassy  at  the  Navy  Yard. — Astonishment  Expressed 
by  Them. — Adieu  to  the  President — America's  Message  to  the  Emperor. 


"  Henceforth,  the  intercourse  of  frirndthip  shall  be  held  between  both  countries,  and  benevolent  feelings  shall  be  cultivated  more  and 
more,  and  never  altered."— LETTKK  or  TUB  Trcoox  To  THE  PKKSIUENT. 


ONTKARY   to   all  precedent  in 
the    history   of   Japan,   and   its 


sent  an  official  embassy  to  the 
government  of  the  United  States, 
in  the  spring  of  1860,  charged 
with  the  duty  of  presenting  for 
final  ratification  a  treaty  of  amity 
and  commerce  between  the  two 
nations, — such  as  had  never  be- 
fore been  made  by  the  Japanese 
court  with  any  other  people, — 
and  to  express  to  the  president 
the  emperor's  profound  respect  for  him,  and  for  the  great  republic  of  which  he  was  the 

elected  chief. 

It  was  justly  regarded  as  something  flattering  to  the  national  pride  of  Americans, 
that  this  country  should  be  the  first  to  receive  the  distinction  of  an  embassy  from  that 
ancient  and  almost  unknown  people,  and  that  a  republican  government  of  the  freest 
form  should  have  been  selected  for  such  an  honor  by  a  nation  barred  in  by  the  prejudice 
of  centuries  against  all  but  the  most  despotic  rule;  and  the  curiosity  which  everywhere 
prevailed  to  behold  men  from  a  region  so  distant,  so  long  shut  out  from  the  rest  of  the 


JAPANESE  BOX  CONTAINING  THE  TREATY. 


486 


GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  JAPAN. 


world,  and  now,  for  the  first  time,  not  only 
admitting  the  visits  of  other  nations,  but 
themselves  undertaking  a  long  and  fatigu- 
ing voyage  to  visit  strangers  in  the  utter- 
most end  of  the  earth,  was  certainly  natural. 

The  embassy  consisted  of  two  principal 
ambassadors,  princes  of  the  highest  rank 
among  the  nobility  of  the  empire,  and  two 
associates, — nobles  of  nearly  equal  rank. 
These  four  were  of  the  emperor's  council, 
and  were  accompanied  by  a  suite  of  sixteen 
officers,  together  with  fifty-three  servants. 
Arriving  at  Honolulu,  in  the  United 
States  ship  Powhatan,  Commodore  Tat- 
nall,  from  Japan,  they  proceeded  thence  to 
San  Francisco,  where  they  arrived  March 
27,  1860,  in  g  '*••&  health  and  spirits.  A 
grand  pubhc  )e-;eption  was  given  them  by 
the  city,  the  chief  dignitaries  of  the  em- 
bassy being  magnificently  dressed  in  em- 
broidered s;ik  robes,  and  each  wore  a 
sword  of  beptitiful  workmanship. 

In  due  tirc.e,  the  embassy  reached  Wash- 
ington, the  ;apital  of  the  nation,  and  the 
special  place  of  their  official  destination. 
Here  thej  were  amply  and  elegantly  ac- 
commodated at  Willard's  Hotel,  many  of 
the  apartments  being  newly  furnished  for 
the  occasion.  A  fine  military  and  naval 
detachment  performed  escort  duty,  as,  in 
regular  procession,  the  high  officials  and 
their  numerous  retinue  moved  from  the 
wharf  to  the  hotel.  The  Nourimon,  a 
black  lacquered  frame,  square  in  shape, 
and  in  size  and  roof  very  much  resembling 
a  dog-kennel,  in  which  was  fixed  the  treaty 
box,  hidden  from  the  public  eye  by  a  loose 
cover  of  red  oil-cloth,  preceded  the  first 
ambassador,  in  the  line  of  procession,  and 
was  borne  by  two  of  the  men  belonging  to 
the  navy  yard. 

General  Cass,  secretary  of  state,  received 
the  embassy  on  Wednesday,  May  17th, 
«ind  made  a  short  speech  of  welcome.  The 
next  day  was  appointed  for  the  grand  cer- 
emonial of  their  presentation  to  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  i*t  the  executive 
mansion. 

The  accounts  given  in  the  Washington 
newspapers,  of  this  memorable  proceeding, 
state  that  long  before  the  time  indicated 


for  the  passage  of  the  procession  from  the 
quarters  of  the  embassy  to  the  president's 
house,  the  neighborhood  was  filled  with  a 
dense  multitude,  intent  on  witnessing  a 
spectacle  so  unprecedented.  The  United 
States  marines,  ordnance  guards,  and  ma- 
rine band,  were  in  attendance  to  do  the 
honors  of  escort.  True  to  the  time  they 
had  appointed,  the  Japanese  officials  com- 
menced leaving  their  hotel  at  half-past 
eleven  o'clock,  and  as  soon  as  they  were 
seated  in  the  carriages  drawn  up  to  convey 
them,  the  procession  moved  forward  to  the 
presidential  mansion.  Each  carriage  bore 
an  officer  of  the  embassy  in  full  ceremo- 
nial costume,  and,  between  every  two  car- 
riages, from  two  to  four  Japanese  guards, 
armed  with  swords,  not  drawn,  marched 
on  foot,  one  of  them  carrying  aloft  a  small 
ensign  in  Japanese  fashion,  on  a  pole 
about  twelve  feet  high. 

Occupying  the  first  carriage,  was  an 
officer  arrayed  in  a  loose  slate-colored  gown 
of  state,  of  a  general  form  like  the  pulpit 
gown  worn  by  the  Episcopal  clergy,  with 
huge  sleeves  stiffly  extending  right  and 
left,  the  texture  having  a  brocade-like 
appearance.  The  lower  dress  consisted  of 
a  pair  of  trousers,  very  wide  and  full,  and 
of  the  same  material.  On  the  crown  of 
the  head,  immediately  over  the  tonsure, 
extending  from  the  forehead  to  the  crown, 
was  worn  an  ornament,  shaped  like  a  band 
of  three  or  four  inches  wide  and  eighteen 
inches  long,  bent  in  the  middle,  and  the 
ends  tied,  but  not  close  together.  Nearly 
all  the  ambassadors  wore  this  distinction, 
but  in  some  the  bend  stood  forward,  in 
others  backward. 

After  the  official  in  the  slate-colored 
dress,  came  one  in  a  rich  green  brocade ; 
next  one  in  light  green ;  then  one  in  yel- 
low; next  a  dark  slate,  and  another  in 
yellow  or  orange,  a  third  in  green,  and  two 
riding  with  Mr.  Portman.  the  interpreter, 
both  arrayed  in  blue.  One  little  official, 
in  a  skirt  richly  embroidered  with  pink 
and  gold,  attracted  considerable  attention. 

On  arriving  at  the  doorway  of  the  exec- 
utive mansion,  the  Japanese  guards  took 
the  advance  and  distributed  themselves  in 


GKAND  EMBASSY  FROM  JAP  AX. 


487 


488 


GEAND  EMBASSY  FROM  JAPAN. 


a  double  line,  between  which  the  ambassa- 
dors and  superior  officers  passed  into  the 
interior  of  the  building.  Here  they  re- 
mained about  ten  minutes,  until  the  cen- 
tral folding-doors  of  the  great  East  room 
were  thrown  open,  when  the  oriental 
strangers  found  themselves  in  the  presence 
of  a  brilliant  throng  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, the  latter  comprising  the  president 
and  his  cabinet  officers,  senators,  members 
of  the  house  of  representatives,  and  officers 
of  the  army  and  navy,  all  in  full  dress,  and 
the  whole  scene  being  most  striking  and 
impressive. 

After  every  arrangement  had  been  con- 
summated for  the  august  interview,  the 
Japanese  princes  charged  with  the  custody 
of  the  treaty,  after  advancing  a  few  paces, 
bowed  reverentially  ;  then  took  a  few  more 
steps,  and  bowed  again,  with  rigid  formal- 
ity ;  and,  having  bowed  once  more  as  they 
approached  the  president,  they  then  stood 
fast.  The  caps,  or  ornaments,  which  they 
wore  upon  their  heads,  they  retained 
throughout  the  ceremonies.  The  ambas- 
sador in  chief,  who  stood  in  the  center, 
now  read  from  a  paper  which  he  held  in 
his  hand,  his  speech,  or  official  address,  to 
the  president.  It  was  read  with  rather  a 
strong  nasal  intonation,  indicating  earnest- 
ness rather  than  eloquence.  This  speech 
was  interpreted  as  follows  : 

"Hia  majesty,  the  Tycoon,  has  com- 
manded us  that  we  respectfully  express  to 
his  majesty  the  President  of  the  United 
States,  in  his  name  as  follows :  Desiring 
to  establish  on  a  firm  and  lasting  founda- 
tion the  relations  of  peace  and  commerce 
so  happily  existing  between  the  two  coun- 
tries that  lately  the  plenipotentiaries  of 
both  countries  have  negotiated  and  con- 
cluded a  treaty,  he  has  now  ordered  us  to 
exchange  the  ratification  of  the  treaty  in 
your  principal  city  of  Washington.  Hence- 
forth the  friendly  relations  shall  be  held 
more  and  more  lasting;  and  he  is  very 
happy  to  have  your  friendly  feeling,  and 
pleased  that  you  have  brought  us  to  the 
United  States,  and  will  send  us  to  Japan, 
in  your  men-of-war." 

When  the  ambassador   concluded  this 


address,  a  square  red  sort  of  box  or  bundle 
was,  with  some  delay,  unfolded,  and  its 
contents  presented  ceremoniously  and  with 
an  official  air  to  the  president,  containing 
a  letter  to  the  latter  from  the  Tycoon,  or 
chief  magistrate  of  Japan,  and  which  the 
president  immediately  handed  to  Mr.  Cass, 
secretary  of  state,who  stood  on  his  left  hand. 

Having  done  this,  the  ambassador  re- 
tired, explaining  that  it  would  not  comport 
with  the  etiquette  of  his  country  that  he 
should  be  present  while  the  letter  was 
read,  and  that  he  must  report  the  delivery 
of  the  letter  to  "the  commissioner," — an 
officer  who  remained  at  the  door,  outside. 

After  a  short  delay,  the  princes,  again 
entering  as  at  first,  and  having,  as  they 
advanced,  stopped  three  times  to  bow 
themselves,  presented  to  the  president 
their  letters  of  credence,  which  were  in 
like  manner  passed  over  to  the  secretary  of 
state.  The  president  now  commenced  to 
read,  in  a  very  distinct  and  audible  voice, 
his  official  address  to  the  ambassadors,  in 
the  words  following : 

"  I  give  you  a  cordial  welcome  as  repre- 
sentatives of  his  imperial  majesty,  the 
Tycoon  of  Japan,  to  the  American  gov- 
ernment. We  are  all  much  gratified  that 
the  first  embassy  which  your  great  empire 
has  ever  accredited  to  any  foreign  power 
has  been  sent  to  the  United  States. 

I  trust  that  this  will  be  the  harbinger  of 
perpetual  peace  and  friendship  between 
the  two  countries.  The  ratifications  you 
are  about  to  exchange  with  the  secretary 
of  state  cannot  fail  to  be  productive  of 
benefits  and  blessings  to  the  people  of  both 
Japan  and  the  United  States. 

I  can  say  for  myself,  and  promise  for 
my  successors,  that  it  shall  be  carried  into 
execution  in  a  faithful  and  friendly  spirit, 
so  as  to  secure  to  the  countries  all  the 
advantages  they  may  justly  expect  from 
the  happy  auspices  under  which  it  has 
been  negotiated  and  ratified. 

I  rejoice  that  you  are  pleased  with  the 
kind  treatment  which  you  have  received 
on  board  of  our  vessels  of  war  whilst  on 
your  passage  to  this  country.  You  shall  be 
sent  back  in  the  same  manner  to  your 


GRAND  EMBASSY  FEOM  JAPAN. 


489 


native  land,  under  the  protection  of  the  j 
American  flag. 

Meanwhile,  during  your  residence 
amongst  us,  which  I  hope  may  be  pro- 
longed so  as  to  enable  you  to  visit  different 
portions  of  our  country,  we  shall  be  happy 
to  extend  to  you  all  the  hospitality  and 
kindness  eminently  due  to  the  great  and 
friendly  sovereign  whom  you  so  worthily 
represent " 

The  tone  and  language  of  the  president 
seemed  to  be  listened  to  by  his  bowing 
auditors  with  great  satisfaction,  and  espe- 
cially the  promise  that  the  embassy  should 
be  returned  to  Japan  at  the  expense  of  the 
United  States  government,  and  under  the 
protection  of  the  American  flag. 

The  princes  retired,  as  before,  to  report 
what  had  been  done  and  said,  to  "  the 
commissioner ; "  but  soon  returned,  and 
were  then  introduced  successively  to  each 
member  of  the  cabinet,  who  all  shook 
hands  with  them.  Next  came  General 
Scott,  who  made  them  one  of  his  most  gra- 
cious bows,  but  before  whose  imposing 
stature  the  ambassadors  seemed  almost 
extinguished.  The  vice-president  of  the 
United  States  was  then  called  for,  but  was 
not  in  presence.  The  speaker  of  the 
house  of  representatives  was  next  sum- 
moned, and,  with  difficulty,  and  not  a  little 
delay,  oared  his  way  through  the  sea  of 
ladies'  bonnets  and  officers'  epaulettes 
which  tossed  and  billowed  between  him 
and  the  high  place  of  honor.  Finally, 
under  the  surveillance  of  Captain  Dupont, 
the  illustrious  strangers,  after  a  profound 
adieu  to  the  president,  which  he  returned 
with  a  bow  as  low,  retired  from  the  East 
room,  and  made  their  way  through  ranks 
of  their  kneeling  subordinates  to  another 
room,  where  they  prepared  for  their  re- 
turn to  their  quarters. 

The  following  is  a  translation  of  the 
letter  of  the  Ty-coon  to  the  president, 
which  was  delivered  by  the  ambassadors : 
"  To  His  Majesty  the  President  of  the 
United  States  of  America,  I  express  with 
respect:  Lately  the  governor  of  Simoda 
Insooye  Sinano  No-Kami  and  the  Metske 
Iwasi  Hego  No-Kami  had  negotiated  and 


decided  with  Townsend  Harris,  the  minis- 
ter plenipotentiary  of  your  country,  an 
affair  of  amity  and  commerce,  and  con- 
cluded previously  the  treaty  in  the  city  of 
Yeddo.  And  now  the  ratification  of  the 
treaty  is  sent  with  the  commissioner  of 
foreign  affairs,  Simmi  Boojsen  No-Kami 
and  Mooragaki  Awajsi  No-Kami,  to  ex- 
change the  mutual  treaty.  It  proceeds 
from  a  particular  importance  of  affairs 
and  a  perfectly  amicable  feeling.  Hence- 
forth, the  intercourse  of  friendship  shall 
be  held  between  both  countries,  and  benev- 
olent feelings  shall  be  cultivated  more  and 
more,  and  never  altered.  Because  the 
now  deputed  three  subjects  are  those 
whom  I  have  chosen  and  confided  in  for 
the  present  post,  I  desire  you  to  grant 
them  your  consideration,  charity,  and 
respect.  Herewith  I  desire  you  to  spread 
my  sincere  wish  for  friendly  relations,  and 
also  I  have  the  honor  to  congratulate  you  on 
the  security  and  welfare  of  your  country." 

The  first  ambassador  was  a  man  of 
small  frame,  with  a  stoop  across  the  shoul- 
ders ;  he  was  about  five  feet  five  in  height, 
and  thirty-five  in  years,  had  a  long  face 
and  a  peculiar  nose — being  too  thin  to  be 
called  Jewish,  and  too  even  to  be  styled 
Roman.  The  second  ambassador  looked 
twenty  years  older  than  the  first.  The 
countenance  of  the  first  indicated  dignity 
beyond '  all  affectation,  and  the  highest 
refinement.  The  others  were  of  less  dis- 
tinguished mien,  but  all  possessed  an 
agreeable  expression.  They  were  all 
thick-skinned  and  dark  in  complexion,  the 
general  color  being  that  of  a  bamboo 
walking-cane.  The  hair  was  shaved  from 
all  parts  of  the  head  excepting  the  sides 
and  back,  from  which  it  was  gathered  in 
long  bands  to  the  crown,  and  there  fast- 
ened with  a  white  string,  leaving  a  lock 
three  or  four  inches  long,  stiffened  with 
oil,  and  brought  forward  to  the  forehead. 

They  wore  silk  or  crape  undercoats,  of 
various  hues,  looser  robes  of  the  same 
material,  and  mostly  blue,  being  thrown 
and  folded  over  them.  In  their  belts  of 
crape,  they  wore  two  swords,  one  short 
(the  barrikarri  sword,  which  no  plebian 


490 


GRAND  EMBASSY  FBOM  JAPAN. 


can  make  use  of),  the  other  longer.  These 
weapons  are  of  a  finer  steel  than  is  else- 
where made,  and  were  borne  in  neatly- 
wrought  scabbards  of  thick  skin,  inlaid 
with  ornaments  of  gold  and  jewels.  Their 
trousers  were  very  wide  and  short,  de- 
scending only  to  within  five  or  six  inches 
of  the  ground,  and  were  made  of  silk,  some 
of  them  being  covered  with  beautifully 
embroidered  figures  of  birds  and  flowers. 
These  trousers  were  held  up  by  a  flat 
braid  resting  in  the  small  of  the  back,  and 
around  which  the  crape  belt  passed.  Upon 
their  feet  were  white  cloth  coverings,  half 
sock,  half  gaiter,  closely  fitting,  and  fast- 
ened by  cords.  Their  sandals  were  of 
straw,  and  composed  of  a  small,  flat  matting 
for  the  foot,  and  two  cords  to  keep  it  in  its 
place.  Another  article,  almost  inseparable 
from  the  dress, — the  pipe, — was  carried  in 
the  back  part  of  the  belt,  and  was  brought 
into  very  frequent,  though  not  long  sus- 
tained, use,  three  whiffs  being  the  extent 
of  Japanese  indulgence  in  the  weed.  The 
princes,  and  most  of  the  higher  officers, 
wore  watches  purchased  from  the  Dutch. 
For  pockets,  they  used  a  part  of  their 
flowing  sleeves  and  the  front  of  their 
robes  above  the  belt,  the  customary  occu- 
pation of  which  by  goodly-sized  packages 
gave  the  wearers  a  protuberant  appearance 
quite  unaccountable  at  first  sight.  The 
dresses  of  the  officers  of  lower  grade  were 
similarly  fashioned,  but  not  so  rich  in  text- 
ure or  color.  Their  coats  were  all  marked 
with  the  stamp  of  the  particular  prince 
whom  they  served. 

President  Buchanan  extended  the  cour- 
tesies of  the  nation  to  the  distinguished 
strangers  in  a  manner  befitting  his  high 
station,  nor  was  he  an  unappreciating 
observer  of  their  manners  and  peculiarities. 
"They  never  speak  to  me,"  he  humor- 
ously said,  "without  calling  me  'Emperor' 
and  'His  Majesty,'  and  are  the  most  par- 
ticular people  about  what  they  should  do. 
Everything  was  written  down  for  them, 
stating  the  course  they  were  to  take,  the 
number  of  bows  they  were  to  make,  and 
all  that,  before  they  left  Japan.  They 
can't  understand  me  at  all.  They  were 


here  in  front,  to  hear  the  band,  on  Satur- 
day. Well,  I  went"  down  the  steps  to 
speak  to  some  of  my  friends  that  I  saw, 
and  they  couldn't  understand  that  a.t  all. 
To  think  that  I — 'Emperor  of  the  United 
States ' — should  go  down  among  and  shake 
hands  with  the  people,  astonished  them 
wonderfully.  Oh,  no  !  they  couldn't  un- 
derstand that,  it  was  so  unlike  any  thing 
in  their  own  country.  They  are  the 
queerest  people  to  deal  with  possible ; 
there's  no  getting  anything  out  of  them, 
they're  so  close  about  everything.  Ah  ! 
these  Japanese ;  they're  the  most  curious 
people  I  ever  saw.  They  take  notes  of 
every  incident.  They've  got  down  a  long 
description  of  how  I  looked  when  they  had 
the  reception,  and  every  matter  they've 
seen — nothing  escapes  them.  They're 
always  sketching  and  taking  notes  of 
things.  They're  very  proud,  too,  I  can 
see  ;  they  bow  very  low,  but  they  won't  do 
more  than  is  prescribed  for  them  in  their 
instructions."  The  observations  of  the 
president,  on  these  points,  accorded  pre- 
cisely with  the  views  expressed  by  others. 
The  interest  manifested  by  the  public  in 
the  appearance  and  movements  of  the 
Japanese  was  a  source  of  continued  grati- 
fication to  the  oriental  visitors ;  they  ap- 
peared pleased  with  the  motley  crowds 
that  assembled  under  their  windows,  pre- 
senting to  them  quite  frequently  their 
smiling  countenances, —  sometimes  amus- 
ing themselves,  also,  by  throwing  their 
native  coin  into  the  street,  to  be  scrambled 
for.  Large  numbers  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men paid  their  respects  to  them,  and 
begged  a  card  written  in  Japanese  charac- 
ters, which  were  exhibited,  in  connection 
with  the  singular  coin,  as  trophies  and 
mementos  of  this  memorable  occasion. 
The  Japanese  were  particular  to  inquire 
the  occupation  of  their  visitors,  their  salary, 
whether  married,  and  numerous  other  ques- 
tions, all  of  which  were  written  on  their 
note-books.  With  the  ladies  they  were  less 
particular.  They  smiled  upon  them  most 
benignly,  and  were  profuse  in  their  admi- 
ration, as  they  were  minute  in  their  exam- 
ination of  their  jewelry.  The  piano  was 


GRAND  EMBASSY  FROM  JAPAN. 


491 


a  special  object  of  curiosity;  the  source 
whence  such  beautiful  harmonies  proceeded 
was  a  profound  mystery  to  them,  but  they 
never  seemed  to  tire  of  the  instrument. 

One  of  the  most  popular  members  of  the 
embassy  was  Tataiesi  Owasjero,  the  young- 
est of  the  interpreters,  and  called  by  his 
American  friends  "  Tommy."  He  was  a 
particular  favorite  with  the  ladies.  When 
fans  were  handed  to  him  for  his  autograph, 
he  wrote  upon  them, "  I  like  American  lady 
very  much ;  I  want  to  marry  and  live 
here  with  pletty  lady  " — ('  pletty '  being  an 
emendation  of  his  own  upon  'pretty.') 
Moreover,  the  sentiments  of  Tommy  ap- 
peared to  be  liberally  reciprocated.  He 


which  he  persisted  in  calling  'Poppy  Goes 
the  "Weasel,' — thinking  the  extra  syllable 
rather  a  good  thing.  He  also  extended 
his  American  acquirements  in  a  less  praise- 
worthy direction, — getting  to  swear  after  a 
curious  manner,  and,  when  over-excited, 
mingling  undue  profanity  with  his  conver- 
sation, but  with  no  notion  of  the  impro- 
priety he  was  committing.  A  beautiful 
little  girl,  six  or  seven  years  old,  was  car- 
ried by  Mayor  Berret  to  see  the  Japanese. 
Tommy  directly  assumed  a  deep  interest 
in  her.  He  explained  to  her  all  sorts  of 
Japanese  notions,  and  for  once  repressed 
his  boisterous  instincts.  He  kept  calling 
all  his  companions  to  look  at  the  pretty 


AMBASSADORS   S1MMI   BOOJSEN   MIKAMI  AND  MOORAOAKI  AWAJSI  NOKAMI. 


was  a  thorough  pet.  Bevies  of  maidens 
gazed  beneficently  upon  him  all  day,  and 
until  late  in  the  evening,  and  extended  to 
him  unreluctant  hands.  Matrons,  too, 
proffered  him  attentions;  but,  with  keen 
discrimination,  he  was  generally  taken 
with  a  fit  of  business  when  the  smiles  that 
greeted  him  were  not  the  smiles  of  youth- 
ful beauty.  He  soon  learned  to  sing  and 
whistle  —  a  great  acquisition,  since  the 
Japanese  are  not  a  singing  people,  and 
have  but  few  musical  instruments.  Among 
the  tunes  which  he  mastered  were  '  Hail 
Columbia,'  and  '  Pop  Goes  the  Weasel,' 


stranger,  and  when  she  was  about  going 
away,  asked :  "  Is  it  permitted  here  to  kiss 
a  little  girl  so  young  as  that  ?" — adding 
that  in  Japan  it  was  considered  exactly 
the  correct  thing  to  do. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  embassy  visiting, 
in  a  social  way,  the  president's  grounds, 
Miss  Lane,  the  president's  niece,  exhibited 
some  curiosity  to  examine  the  blade  of 
Ogoori  •  Bungo-No-Kami's  sword.  No 
sooner  did  that  official  comprehend  the 
desire  of  the  lady  to  unsheath  his  catanna 
(the  name  of  the  weapon,)  than  he  smiled 
most  graciously,  and  said  in  Japanese, 


492 


GEAND  EMBASSY  FEOM  JAPAN. 


"Take  it,  my  lady,"  at  the  same  time 
handing  it  to  her  most  gracefully.  She, 
upon  this,  drew  the  glittering  blade  from 
its  scabbard — half  wood,  half  leather,  with 
an  inlaying  of  silver, — and  eyed  it  woman- 
like and  closely,  and  then  returning  it  to 
its  sheath,  handed  it  back  to  its  owner, 
•who  took  it  with  evident  pleasure  that  the 
thing  of  his  honor  and  defense  should  have 
excited  interest  on  the  part  of  one  so  fair. 

Visiting  the  navy  yard,  they  were  aston- 
ished at  beholding  the  forging  of  a  main 
stem  of  a  large  anchor.  They  then  pro- 
ceeded to  the  steam  boiler  department,  and 
were  evidently  delighted  with  a  large  new 
boiler  destined  for  the  steamer  Pensacola, 
as  they  examined  it  minutely.  In  the 
punching  establishment,  the  mode  of  drill- 
ing amused  them  very  much,  as  did  also 
the  explosion  of  a  large  mass  of  powder,  in 
the  shape  of  signal  lights,  as  used  in  the 
navy.  The  extending  of  an  immense 
chain,  by  hydraulic  pressure,  greatly  ex- 
cited their  curiosity. 

After  a  tour  through  different  portions 
of  the  country,  including  visits  to  the 
principal  cities,  where  they  were  the  recip- 
ients of  the  most  lavish  and  magnificent 
hospitalities,  they  had  their  final  ceremo- 
nial audience  with  President  Buchanan,  in 
Washington.  On  this  occasion,  the  first 
ambassador  read,  quite  in  a  whisper,  the 
following  words  of  farewell,  as  repeated  by 
the  interpreter : 

"  The  exchange  of  the  ratification  of  the 
treaty  having  taken  place,  and  the  time  of 
our  departure  having  arrived,  we  have 
come  to  take  leave  of  your  excellency,  and 
to  wish  you  continued  health  and  prosper- 
ity. We  may  be  allowed  to-day  to  tender 
your  excellency  our  heart-felt  thanks  for 
your  friendly  feelings  on  our  behalf,  and 
for  the  very  kind  treatment  we  have  met 
with  in  Washington. 

It  has  been  a  source  of  gratification  to 
us  to  visit  several  government  institutions, 
where  we  have  seen  many  things  in  which 
we  have  felt  much  interest.  Of  all  this, 
and  of  our  journey  home  in  the  Niagara,  a 
full  account  will  be  submitted  by  us,  on 
our  return,  to  the  Tycoon,  who  will  be 


greatly  pleased  by  it,  and  who  will  always 
endeavor  to  strengthen  and  to  increase  the 
friendly  relations  so  happily  established 
between  the  two  countries." 

To  the  speech  of  the  ambassador,  th'e 
president  replied  as  follows : 

"  The  arrival  of  these  distinguished 
commissioners  from  the  Tycoon  has  been 
a  very  propitious  and  agreeable  event  in 
my  administration.  It  is  an  historical 
event,  which,  I  trust,  'will  unite  the  two 
nations  together  in  bonds  of  friendship 
through  all  time. 

The  conduct  of  the  commissioners  has 
met  my  entire  approbation,  and  the  Ty- 
coon could  not  have  selected  out  of  all  his 
dominions,  any  representatives  who  could 
have  more  conciliated  the  good-will  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States.  I  have 
caused  the  secretary  of  state  to  prepare  a 
letter  of  re-credence — a  letter  from  under 
my  own  hand — to  the  Tycoon,  stating  my 
opinion  of  the  manner  in  which  they  have 
performed  their  business ;  and  a  copy  of 
that  letter  will  be  placed  in  their  hands 
before  their  departure. 

I  wish  you  a  very  agreeable  time  during 
the  remainder  of  your  residence  in  the 
United  States,  and  a  safe  and  happy  return 
to  your  own  country,  under  the  flag  of  the 
American  Union. 

I  desire,  for  myself,  to  present  to  each 
of  the  commissioners  a  gold  medal,  struck 
at  the  mint,  in  commemoration  of  their 
arrival  and  services  in  this  country. 

There  have  been  several  presents  pre- 
pared for  his  imperial  majesty  the  Tycoon, 
which  will  be  sent  to  your  lodgings  in  the 
course  of  the  day." 

The  embassy  left  the  United  States  on 
the  first  of  July,  in  the  magnificent  ship- 
of-war  Niagara,  carrying  with  them,  in 
addition  to  the  treaty  by  which  American 
commercial  privileges  in  Japan  were  much 
extended,  a  large  number  of  valuable  gifts 
from  our  government,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  a  visit  in  every  respect  happy 
and  auspicious.  The  results  of  the  mission 
were  in  the  highest  degree  satisfactory  to 
both  governments,  and  naturally  excited 
much  interest  on  the  part  of  other  nations. 


LX. 

TOUR    OF    HIS    ROYAL    HIGHNESS,    ALBERT    EDWARD, 
PRINCE    OF    WALES,    THROUGH    THE    UNITED       ' 

STATES.— 1360. 


Friendly  Letters  between  President  Buchanan  and  Queen  Victoria  on  the  Subject— The  Prince's  First 
Entrance  into  American  Waters. — Unbounded  Hospitalities  Extended  Him. — Hunting  Excursions, 
Military  Reviews,  Balls,  Illuminations,  etc. — Splendid  Banquet  at  the  White  House. — England's 
Appreciation  of  these  Honors  to  Her  Future  King. — Heir  to  the  British  Throne. — Arrival  at  Detroit, 
Chicago,  etc. — Enthusiastic  Crowds  Greet  Him. — His  Way  Completely  Blocked  Up. — On  a  Hunt: 
Fine  Sportsman. — Receptions  at  Various  Cities. — Locomotive  Ride  to  Washington. — Guest  of  Presi- 
dent Buchanan. — Courtesies  and  Ceremonials. — Visit  to  Mount  Vernon. — At  the  Tomb  of  Washing- 
ton.— Unparalleled  Historical  Scene  — He  Plants  a  Tree  at  the  Grave  — Rare  Scenes  in  Philadelphia. 
— New  York  and  Boston  Festivities  — Present  from  Trinity  Church,  New  York. — Greatest  Balls  Ever 
Known. — He  Meets  a  Bunker  Hill  Veteran. — Impressions  of  America. — Incidents,  Anecdotes,  Inter- 
views.— His  Looks,  Manners,  Dress,  etc. — Brilliant  Farewell  at  Portland. 


"  Too  may  be  well  assured  that  everywhere  in  thif  country  he  will  be  greeted  by  the  American  people  in  iueh  a  manner  at  cannot  foil  to 
be  gratifying  to  vour  Mujeity."—  FBESIDIST  BUCHAHAS  TO  QctEic  VIOIOEIA. 


R.  Buchanan's  closing  presidential  year  was  ren- 
dered memorable  by  the  visit  to  this  country  of 
Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  who,  being 
the  eldest  son  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  great 
grandson  of  George  III., — the  king  who  waged 
against  America  the  wars  of  1776  and  1812 — 
naturally  riveted  all  eyes,  and  excited  univer- 
sal attention,  as  he  journeyed  from  one  part  of 
the  Union  to  another.  At  the  time  of  this 
visit,  the  prince  was  in  his  nineteenth  year; 
had  been  educated  at  Oxford  University,  and 
was  reputed  a  worthy  son  of  a  good  mother, — 
and  destined,  on  the  death  of  the  latter,  to  be 
King  of  the  British  realm.  President  Bu- 
chanan, having  been  informed  of  the  Prince's 
intention  to  make  a  Canadian  tour,  addressed 

THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES  AT  WASHINGTON'S.  TOMB.    the  following  letter  to  the  Queen,  which  was 
presented  by  Mr.  Dallas,  United  States  Minister  at  the  Court  of  St.  James  : 
"To  HEK  MAJESTY,  QUEEN  VICTORIA: 
I  have  learned,  from  the  public  journals,  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  about  to  visit 


494 


TOTTK  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


your  Majesty's  North  American  domin- 
ions. Should  it  he  the  intention  of  His 
Koyal  Highness  to  extend  his  visit  to  the 
United  States,  I  need  not  say  how  happy 
I  should  be  to  give  him  a  cordial  welcome 
to  Washington. 

You  may  be  well  assured  that  every- 
where in  this  country  he  will  be  greeted 
by  the  American  people  in  such  manner 
as  cannot  fail  to  prove  gratifying  to  your 
Majesty.  In  this  they  will  manifest  their 
deep  sense  of  your  domestic  virtues,  as  well 
as  their  convictions  of  your  merits  as  a 
wise,  patriotic,  and  constitutional  sover- 
eign. 

Your  Majesty's  most  obedient  servant, 
JAMES  BUCHANAN." 

In  reply  to  the  foregoing  highly  courte- 
ous letter,  dated  at  Washington,  June  4, 
1860,  Queen  Victoria  dispatched  the  fol- 
lowing most  happily  worded  response, 
dated  at  Buckingham  Palace,  June  22d : 
"MY  GOOD  FRIEND: 

I  have  been  much  gratified  at  the  feel- 
ings which  prompted  you  to  write  to  me, 
inviting  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  come  to 
Washington.  He  intends  to  return  from 
Canada  through  the  United  States,  and  it 
will  give  him  great  pleasure  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  testifying  to  you  in  person 
that  these  feelings  are  fully  reciprocated 
by  him.  He  will  thus  be  able,  at  the  same 
time,  to  mark  the  respect  which  he  enter- 
tains for  the  Chief  Magistrate  of  a  great 
and  powerful  state  and  kindred  nation. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  will  drop  all  royal 
state  on  leaving  my  dominions,  and  travel 
under  the  name  of  Lord  Renfrew,  as  he 
has  done  when  traveling  on  the  continent 
of  Europe. 

The  Prince  Consort  wishes  to  be  kindly 
remembered  to  you. 

I  remain  ever,  your  good  friend, 

VICTORIA  R." 

It  was  on  the  23d  of 'July,  1860,  that 
the  prince  arrived  at  St.  Johns,  N.  R, 
and,  after  journeying  for  some  weeks  in 
the  various  British.  Provinces,  where  he 
was  received  with  the  most  distinguished 
and  enthusiastic  attentions,  he  finally  en- 


tered American  waters,  between  Windsor, 
Canada,  and  Detroit,  Mich.  When  the 
boat  reached  the  center  of  the  stream,  the 
Mayor  of  Detroit  stepped  forward  and 
said :  "Baron  Renfrew,  we  welcome  you  to 
the  United  States,  trusting  that  your  visit 
may  be  a  happy  one — that  you  may  long 
remember  it  ivith  pleasure  and  satisfac- 
tion." At  least  fifty  thousand  persons 
were  present,  and  when  the  band  struck 
up  The  Star  Spangled  Banner,  the  cheer- 
ing and  enthusiasm  were  tremendous. 

After  witnessing  a  magnificent  illumin- 
ation in  his  honor,  the  next  morning  he 
departed  for  Chicago.  He  was  attended, 
as  usual,  by  his  somewhat  numerous  suite, 
the  Duke  of  Newcastle  being  chief,  A 
magnificent  open  barouche,  drawn  by  four 
superb  white  horses,  had  been  provided  to 
convey  him  from  the  hotel.  The  party 
seated  themselves  in  the  barouche,  when 
the  immense  crowd  gathered  around,  and 
blocked  up  the  avenues  so  thickly  as  to 
make  it  next  to  impossible  to  proceed. 
Cheer  after  cheer  was  given  for  the  baron, 
and  the  wildest  enthusiasm  prevailed. 
The  carriage  was  followed  by  prodigious 
throngs  on  foot,  many  hanging  to  the 
wheels,  while  the  streets  and  sidewalks  on 
the  route  were  so  obstructed  by  people, 
that  the  royal  party  were  intercepted  at 
every  turn.  Arriving  at  Chicago,  a  vast 
assembly  greeted  him.  Baron  Renfrew 
rode  along  a  line  of  excited  people, — who 
were  kept  from  him  by  ropes, — bowing, 
with  hat  off,  amidst  repeated  cheers.  As 
he  passed,  a  rush  was  finally  made,  and, 
in  spite  of  every  effort  of  the  policemen, 
the  crowd  surged  in  like  the  sea.  Ar- 
riving, at  last,  at  the  hotel,  five  thousand 
persons  were  there  found  gazing  at  the 
windows,  in  almost  perfect  silence  and 
order,  waiting  to  see  the  prince's  shadow 
even.  Here,  the  most  splendid  honors 
and  hospitalities  were  heaped  upon  him, 
exceeding  anything  of  the  kind  ever  be- 
fore known  in  that  young  and  powerful 
city  of  the  west. 

Leaving  Chicago  in  a  special  train  for 
Dwight's  Station — from  which  place  the 
prince  was  to  start  on  a  hunting  excursion, 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


405 


— he  arrived  there  at  dark,  on  Saturday 
evening.  The  next  day,  the  prince  at- 
tended divine  service  at  the  Presbyterian 
church.  In  the  afternoon,  a  courier  ar- 
rived with  dispatches  from  the  queen,  and 
the  party  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  read- 
ing their  letters  and  answering  them.  On 
Monday  they  shot  prairie  chickens ;  on 
Tuesday,  they  went  in  pursuit  of  quail, 
and  were  very  successful,  the  prince,  who 
enjoyed  the  sport  highly,  hagging  over  a 
hundred  birds.  His  host,  Mr.  Spencer, 
an  experienced  hunter,  pronounced  the 
prince  an  excellent  sportsman,  handling  a 
gun  finely.  The  whole  party  dressed 
roughly,  and  walked  about  the  village 
smoking  pipes  in  the  most  free-and-easy 
style.  A  couple  of  Irishmen  called  to  see 
the  prince,  who  welcomed  and  shook  hands 
with  them.  Before  leaving  this  place,  he 
expressed  his  regret  that  he  could  not 
make  his  stay  longer,  and  presented  his 
hosts  with  several  beautiful  gifts,  among 
which  was  a  Manton  gun,  etc. 

From  this  place  he  went  to  St.  Louis, 
and  thence  to  Cincinnati.  When  he 
landed  at  the  former  place,  loud  cheers 
greeted  him,  and  the  crowd  surrounded  his 
carriage  to  such  an  extent,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  close  the  windows  of  the  vehi- 
cle ;  the  carriages  of  the  suite  were  also 
driven  in  opposite  directions,  to  divide  the 
throng.  At  the  agricultural  fair  at  St. 
Louis,  the  royal  party  passed  twice  around 
the  arena,  and  then  alighted  in  the  center. 
After  this,  they  ascended  to  the  second 
story  of  the  pagoda,  where  the  band  struck 
up  God  Save  the  Queen.  This  was  followed 
by  Hail  Columbia  and  Yankee  Doodle. 

At  Cincinnati,  the  prince  attended  a  ball 
given  at  the  opera-house,  Saturday  even- 
ing, and  the  next  day  attended  worship  at 
St.  John's  church,  and  heard  a  sermon 
from  Bishop  Mcllvaine.  In  the  evening 
he  dined  with  the  mayor  and  other  citi- 
zens. From  Cincinnati  the  prince  went 
to  Pittsburg ;  dined  at  Altona ;  and  ar- 
rived at  Harrisburg  late  in  the  evening  of 
October  2d,  where  he  was  received  by  Gov- 
ernor Packer,  in  the  following  unique  and 
off-hand  address  of  welcome  : 


"Lord  Renfrew, — It  affords  me  infinite 
pleasure  to  welcome  your  lordship  to  the 
capital  of  the  commonwealth  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, one  of  the  old  thirteen  colonies  that 
originally  acknowledged  allegiance  to  the 
crown  of  Great  Britain,  and,  notwithstand- 
ing that  allegiance  has  been  severed,  your 
lordship  will  perceive,  by  a  glance  at  that 
long  line  of  colonial  and  state  governors 
(pointing  to  the  portraits  which  adorn  the 
executive  chambers),  that  we  still  have  a 
very,  very  great  veneration  and  regard  for 
our  ancient  rulers.  That  line  of  portraits 
is  almost  a  perfect  type  of  our  American 
families.  We  cannot  follow  our  ancestry 
more  than  a  few  generations  back,  without 
tracing  the  line  to  a  British  red-coat." 

On  the  third  of  October,  he  left  Harris- 
burg,  early  in  the  morning,  for  Baltimore 
and  Washington.  On  his  way,  in  descend- 
ing the  mountain,  the  prince  and  his 
friends  rode  upon  the  locomotive,  so  as  to 


obtain  a  better  view  of  the  magnificent 
scenery  of  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  and  expressed  themselves  much 
gratified  with  their  ride.  Declining  any 
reception  at  Baltimore,  the  prince  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  Washington. 

It  would  be  as  impossible  to  describe 
the  varied  honors  and  ceremonials  which 
were  showered  upon  the  prince  during  his 
stay  in  the  nation's  metropolis,  as  to  detail 
the  fetes,  ovations,  and  multitudinous  pa- 
geants, which  attended  him  at  every  prin- 
cipal point  along  his  journey  from  one  end 


496 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


of  the  country  to  the  other.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  in  brief,  that  at  Washington  he  was 
received  by  General  Cass,  secretary  of 
state,  and  two  nephews  of  President  Bu- 
chanan. He  was  at  once  conducted  to  the 
White  House,  where  he  was  welcomed  by 
the  president.  At  six  o'clock  he  dined, 
the  members  of  the  cabinet  and  one  or  two 
senators  with  their  wives  being  of  the 
party.  On  Thursday,  October  4th,  the 
prince  and  suite  visited  the  capitol  and 
the  patent  office.  A  reception  was  given 
at  the  White  House,  at  one  o'clock,  in 
honor  of  the  prince,  and  an  immense 
crowd  was  present.  On  this  occasion,  the 
prince  was  dressed  in  blue  coat  and  gray 
pants,  and,  with  ungloved  hands,  stood 
upon  the  right  of  the  president;  near  the 
prince  stood  Lord  Lyons.  As  each  person 
passed,  the  president  shook  hands  with  his 
customary  urbanity,  and  the  prince  bowed 
as  usual,  though  several  ladies  succeeded 
in  shaking  his  hand.  In  the  evening,  a 
diplomatic  dinner  took  place  at  the  White 
House,  at  which  were  present  a  splendid 
array  of  high  officials  and  foreign  dignita- 
ries, the  banquet  being,  in  all  respects, 
one  of  the  most  splendid  of  its  kind  ever 
given  on  this  continent. 

The  next  day,  the  prince,  with  his  suite 
and  a  distinguished  company,  visited 
Mount  Vernon  and  the  Tomb  of  Washing- 
ton. It  was  a  scene  never  before  enacted 
by  any  prince  or  potentate, — the  heir  to 
the  proudest  throne  in  the  world  making  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  of  a  rebel  general, 
one  who,  though  once  pronounced  a  traitor 
by  the  very  ancestors  of  the  prince,  now 
ranks  above  all  kings — the  Father  of  a 
Country  second  to  none.  The  day  was  all 
that  could  be  desired,  one  of  October's 
finest.  The  prince  and  his  suite,  accom- 
panied by  President  Buchanan  and  other 
eminent  persons,  went  on  board  the  gov- 
ernment steamer  Harriet  Lane,  and  in 
a  short  time  reached  their  destination. 
Having  carefully  inspected  the  various 
apartments  of  the  mansion  —  the  place 
where  the  patriot  wrote,  the  room  in  which 
be  slept,  the  bed  on  which  he  expired,  and 
examined  the  key  of  the  Bastile,  the  piano 


presented  by  Washington  to  Mrs.  Lewis, 
and  other  relics  and  curiosities,  the  party 
then  proceeded  in  silence  to  the  great 
patriot's  last  resting-place. 

Approaching  the  hallowed  spot,  each 
one  reverentially  uncovered  his  head.  The 
Marine  Band  had  arrived  before  them,  and, 
concealed  by  a  neighboring  thicket,  began 
playing  a  dirge  composed  by  the  leader. 
The  scene  was  most  impressive.  The  vis- 
itors, ranging  themselves  in  front  of  the 
tomb,  looked  in,  through  the  iron-grated 
door,  at  the  sarcophagus  which  contains 
the  mortal  remains  of  the  illustrious  chief- 
tain. Then,  retiring  a  few  paces,  the 
prince,  the  president,  and  the  royal  party, 
grouped  in  front,  silently  contemplated  the 
Tomb  of  Washington. 

Turning  their  attention  once  more  to 
the  surrounding  grounds  and  scenery,  one 
cut  a  cone  to  carry  back  to ,  England,  as  a 
relic  of  the  place ;  another  plucked  a 
flower,  as  a  memento  of  the  day  and  scene ; 
and  the  prince,  at  the  request  of  the 
Mount  Vernon  Association,  planted,  with 
but  little  formality,  a  tree,  upon  a  beauti- 
ful little  mound  near  the  tomb,  and  took 
with  him  a  companion  seed  to  plant  in 
Windsor  forest. 

This  pleasant  commemorative  ceremony 
being  over,  the  visitors  again  stood  for  3 
few  moments  before  the  tomb,  and  then, 
turning  away  in  thoughtful  silence,  slowly 
retraced  their  way  to  the  Harriet  Lane, 
which  during  their  absence  had  been  trans- 
formed, by  means  of  canvas  and  gay  flags, 
into  a  beautiful  dining  saloon,  with  covers 
laid  for  the  entire  party. 

Going  from  Washington  to  Richmond, 
Va.,  he  there  attended  St.  Paul's  church, 
on  Sunday,  after  which  he  visited  Gov- 
ernor Letcher.  Baltimore  was  the  next 
place  visited,  and,  after  a  drive  around  the 
city,  with  the  mayor,  he  left  for  Philadel- 
phia, on  arriving  at  which  city,  he  put  up 
at  the  Continental.  As  he  reached  this 
hotel,  an  amusing  incident  transpired. 
He  sprang  out  of  his  carriage  with  his 
usual  agility,  and,  to  avoid  the  crowd, 
rushed  for  the  stairs,  and  into  the  arms  of 
the  superintendent  of  order,  who,  presum- 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


407 


ing  him  to  be  an  interloper,  stopped  him, 
and  would  not  allow  him  to  pass.  In  vain 
the  prince  struggled  and  kicked.  The 
superintendent  kept  fast  hold  of  the  "  in- 
truder," until  Mayor  Henry  rushed  up  and 
relieved  His  Royal  Highness  from  this 
international  embrace.  The  superintend- 
ent bowed  low,  and  begged  pardon,  but, 
with  the  natural  tendency  to  self-defense, 
asked,  "Why  didn't  he  just  speak?" 
"  Oh,"  said  the  prince,  running  ahead, 
"  that  would  have  spoiled  the  joke." 

Some  time  before  the  prince  arrived  in 
Philadelphia,  the  ladies  swarmed  in  large 
numbers  to  the  Continental,  to  inspect  the 
prince's  splendid  apartments,  to  sit  where 
he  was  to  sit,  etc.  They  were  escorted 
in  and  out  of  the  rooms  in  parties  of  three 
and  four,  and  seemed  to  feel  easier  after 
the  visit.  After  his  arrival,  hundreds  of 
people  stood  around  the  hotel  all  day. 
Some,  indeed,  mostly  ladies,  who  had 
fought  or  bribed  their  way  up  stairs,  hung 
around  the  door  of  his  apartments,  and 
touched  him  curiously  as  he  slipped  past. 

The  principal  receptions  of  the  prince, 
after  his  departure  from  Philadelphia,  were 
at  New  York,  West  Point,  and  Boston ; 
but  no  account  of  these  receptions,  short 
of  an  elaborate  volume,  would  be  equal  to 
their  variety,  extent,  and  magnificence, 
and  consequently  only  a  few  incidents  can 
be  here  narrated. 

While  at  New  York,  he  attended  wor- 
ship at  Trinity  church,  three  front  pews 
in  the  center  aisle  being  reserved  for  the 
prince  and  suite.  In  one  of  them,  and 
immediately  in  front  of  the  prince's  seat, 
two  magnificent  prayer-books  were  depos- 
ited, the  one  a  small  octavo  size,  the  other 
a  half-quarto.  They  were  both  got  up  in 
the  most  perfect  style  of  typographical  art, 
and  the  skill  of  the  binder  had  exhausted 
itself  on  the  exterior  decorations.  The 
large  one  was  bound  in  bright  red  morocco, 
and  was  fastened  by  a  golden  clasp, 
chastely  embellished  with  filigree  work, 
and  finely  worked  with  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  plume  and  his  motto  "  Ich  Dien," 
("I  serve.")  The  clasp  alone  cost  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  On  its  outer 
32 


cover,  the  book  bore  this  inscription  .  "  To 
His  Royal  Highness,  Albert  Edward, 
Prince  of  Wales,  from  the  Corporation  of 
Trinity  Church,  New  York,  in  Memory  of 
the  Munificence  of  the  Crown  of  En- 
gland." 

At  the  Academy  of  Music,  October  12th, 
there  was  given  the  greatest  ball,  in  honor 
of  the  prince,  ever  known  in  this  country. 
Over  three  thousand  persons  were  present 
— the  creme  de  la  crime  of  New  York  soci- 
ety. The  ball-room  comprised  the  par- 
quette  of  the  academy,  and  embraced  the 
stage.  It  was  one  hundred  and  thirty-five 
feet  in  length  by  sixty-eight  feet  in  breadth. 
The  end  toward  the  stage  was  arranged  in 
a  semi-circular  form,  while  toward  the 
other  end  were  placed  three  superb  couches. 
The  central  one  was  for  the  prince,  while 
those  on  either  side  were  for  his  suite. 
The  decorations  were  floral  throughout  the 
ball-room.  The  scene  was  magnificent. 
There  was  a  sea  of  heads  in  a  sea  of  colors 
— the  light  flashing  back  from  the  gayest 
and  richest  of  dresses,  from  pearly  white 
shoulders  and  brilliant  complexiens,  and 
from  jewels  iris-hued  and  rivaling  the  stars 
in  brightness.  The  full-dress  black  coats 
absorbed  the  superfluous  light,  and  softened 
the  blaze  of  the  thousand  lamps.  The 
rich  military  uniforms,  ornamented  with 
golden  lace  and  epaulettes,  relieved  the 
uniformity  of  the  gentlemen's  toilets. 

While  the  royal  party  were  observing 
the  throng  and  the  decorations  of  the 
room,  a  sudden  rustle  and  movement  of  the 
crowd  backward  indicated  that  some  acci- 
dent was  about  to  happen,  and,  in  a  mo- 
ment after,  one  of  the  flower  vases  upon 
the  front  tier  fell  with  a  great  crash  to  the 
floor,  scattering  its  roses  upon  all  who 
stood  near. 

The  supper-room  was  especially  erected 
for  the  occasion,  and  its  length  was  one 
hundred  and  forty-four  feet,  by  twenty- 
eight  feet  breadth.  The  entire  vast  apart- 
ment was  draped  in  alternate  strips  of  pink 
and  white  nraslin,  with  twenty-four  splen- 
did mirrors  intervening;  magnificent 
chandeliers,  suspended  from  the  roof,  con- 
tributed to  the  brilliancy  of  the  display. 


498 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


GRAND  BALL    GIVEN  TO  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES,   IN  BOSTON. 


All  along  the  supper-room  were  two  tables, 
gorgeous  in  all  the  appointments  of  gold, 
silver,  and  china  ware,  and  the  feast  was 
magnificent. 

It  was  at  first  contemplated  to  give  the 
prince  a  grand  public  dinner,  but  this  was 
changed  to  a  ball,  because  the  prince,  being 
so  young  a  man,  could  not  be  expected  to 
make  an  extemporaneous  speech,  and  eti- 
quette forbade  any  one  speaking  as  his 
substitute. 

From  New  York,  the  prince  sailed  in  the 
government  steamer  Harriet  Lane,  for 
West  Point.  Here  he  was  received  with 
the  highest  honors  known  to  the  military 
service ;  and  after  visiting  the  command- 
ant, and  riding  round  the  place,  he  ac- 
cepted an  invitation  to  review  the  cadets. 
Eight  battalion  companies  of  cadets,  eleven 
files  front,  presented  themselves  on  the 
right  of  the  line;  then  the  company  of 
sappers  and  miners;  then  the  battery  of 
four  guns  of  light  artillery,  with  a  corps  of 
cadets  acting  as  cannoneers ;  and  the  left 
was  occupied  by  a  detachment  of  dragoons. 


In  a  few  minutes  after  the  formation  of 
the  line,  the  prince  and  suite,  with  Lieu- 
tenant-General  Scott,  appeared  on  the 
parade  ground,  when  Major  Reynolds  gave 
the  order  to  "  Prepare  for  Review."  The 
ranks  of  the  troops  wdte  opened,  the  artil- 
lery unlimbered,  the  officers  and  colors  to 
the  front,  when  the  reviewing  party 
marched  to  the  head  of  the  military  col- 
umn, while  the  band  played  the  air  of 
God  Save  the  Queen.  As  the  prince  and 
escort  passed  down  the  military  line,  the 
band  played  the  very  elegant  air  of  the 
Flowers  of  Edinburgh.  The  reviewers 
passed  down  the  front,  and  between  the 
open  ranks  of  the  troops,  back  to  their 
original  position  on  the  parade  ground. 
The  troops  were  then  broke  into  column 
by  companies  and  marched  in  review — 
first  in  common  time,  then  in  quick  time, 
and  finally  in  double  quick  time.  As  the 
commandants  of  the  companies  passed  and 
saluted  the  prince,  he  gracefully  raised  his 
hat  in  acknowledgment. 

Leaving  West  Point,  the  prince  pro- 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


499 


ceeded  to  Albany,  where  he  was  received 
by  Governor  Morgan  and  the  state  author- 
ities. After  spending  an  hour  or  two  at 
the  capitol,  he  repaired  to  the  governor's 
residence,  and  dined  there,  Mr.  Seward 
and  others  being  guests.  The  nest  day 
he  took  a  special  train  for  Springfield, 
Mass.,  and  thence  to  Boston.  He  was 
conducted  to  his  quarters  by  the  Boston 
•authorities,  an  immense  crowd  following. 
The  principal  occasions  of  interest,  while 
stopping  in  Boston,  were  as  follows :  On 
Thursday  he  witnessed  a  great  political 
procession ;  then  received  Ralph  Farnham, 
the  survivor  of  Bunker  Hill  battle  ;  re- 
viewed the  troops  on  Boston  Common ; 
attended  a  children's  musical  entertain- 
ment at  the  music  hall ;  and  went  to  the 
ball  in  the  evening.  On  Friday,  visited 
Harvard  college,  and  examined  all  the 
objects  of  interest  at  that  venerable  seat  of 
learning ;  and  subsequently  visited  Mount 
Auburn,  Bunker  Hill,  and  the  Charles- 
town  navy  yard. 

A  very  interesting  interview  was  that 
with  Ralph  Farnham.  The  Duke  of  New- 
castle, who,  with  most  of  the  suite,  was 
present,  asked  the  revolutionary  veteran 
if  he  saw  Burgoyne  when  he  surrendered, 
adding,  "You  rather  had  him  there!" 
The  old  soldier  then  remarked,  chucklingly, 
that  hearing  so  much  said  in  praise  of  the 
prince,  he  began  to  fear  that  the  people 
were  all  turning  royalists.  This  and  Mr. 
Farnham's  manner  elicited  much  laughter, 
in  which  the  prince  fully  joined.  The 
prince  then  sent  for  pen  and  ink,  and 
exchanged  autographs  with  his  visitor — 
one  of  the  men  who  had  stood  before  Brit- 
ish soldiers  in  1776,  in  a  manner  and  with 
a  bearing  very  different  from  that  with 
which  he  received  the  prince's  courtesies 
and  exchanged  glances  with  the  majors, 
colonels,  and  guardsmen  of  the  royal  suite. 
Mr.  Farnham  afterwards  spoke  of  the 
interview  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  re- 
marking that  "  he  wished  to  show  the  boy 
and  his  soldiers  that  he  bore  no  anger  for 
old  times." 

The  musical  festival  was  a  novel  and 
pleasant  entertainment,  at  Music  Hall. 


Twelve  hundred  school  children  were  ar- 
ranged upon  seats  sloping  from  the  floor  to 
the  ceiling,  and  from  the  platform  one 
could  see  two  large  triangles  of  boys,  and 
two  immense  parallelograms  of  gayly- 
dressed  girls,  while  between  them  was  an 
orchestra  of  sixty  performers.  As  the 
prince  entered,  the  whole  company  rose, 
and  the  masses  of  children  waved  handker- 
chiefs and  clapped  hands,  producing  a  h'lK 
effect. 

A  grand  success,  too,  was  the  ball,  given 
at  the  Boston  Theater, — not  exceeded  in 
splendor  by  that  in  New  York.  If  one 
can  imagine  the  immensity  of  this  thea- 
ter ;  the  dancing  floor  inclosed  as  by  a 
pavilion,  each  tier  differently  and  most 
richly  decorated,  and  crowded  with  su- 
perbly dressed  ladies ;  the  royal  box  all 
aglare  with  light,  and  rich  in  gilt,  purple, 
and  azure;  the  frescoed  ceiling,  with  its 
pendant  dome  of  light,  the  marquee,  with  its 
groves,  flowers,  mirrors,  arabesque  ceiling, 
its  multiform  and  varied  decorations,  and 
its  view  of  Windsor  Castle,  seen  as  if  from 
some  immense  window  ; — if  one  can  imag- 
ine this  scene,  and  then  crowd  it  with 
richly  dressed  ladies,  with  gentlemen  in 
every  variety  of  ball  costume,  while,  over 
all,  the  lights  streamed  their  brilliant 
radiance,  mirrors  and  jewels  flashing  back 
and  reduplicating  the  rays,  arid  the  soft, 
sweet  swell  of  the  music  bearing  with  it 
the  graceful  moving  throng  in  a  bewilder- 
ing maze  of  beauty,  an  adequate  idea  of 
the  magnificent  occasion  may  possibly  be 
gained. 

Curiously  enough,  the  Boston  ball  op- 
ened something  like  that  in  New  York ; 
for  all  the  committees,  being  anxious  to 
speak  to  the  prince,  and  leaning  forward 
to  do  so,  crash  went  a  large  vase  of  flowers, 
scattering  its  contents  over  the  prince. 
There  were  profuse  apologies,  but  the 
prince  was  laughing  so  heartily,  that  he 
could  not  hear  nor  speak. 

The  prince's  appreciation  of  American 
ladies  was  very  marked.  At  the  Boston 
ball,  he  remarked  slyly  to  a  beautiful 
belle,  "  They  made  me  dance  with  the  old 
chaps  in  Canada."  At  Montreal,  lie 


500 


TOUR  OF  THE  PRINCE  OF  WALES. 


danced  with  Miss  Blackburn,  of  Natchez, 
a  lady  of  great  beauty ;  so  enchanted  did 
the  prince  become,  that  he  afterward  in- 
quired for  her  and  expressed  a  desire  to 
meet  again.  Among  those  with  whom  he 
danced,  at  the  Cincinnati  ball,  was  the 
beautiful  Miss  Groesbeck,  daughter  of 
Hon.  John  Groesbeck.  The  reporters 
represent  that  Miss  Groesbeck,  who  was 
the  belle  of  the  evening,  wore  .a  white 
tulle  dress,  puffed  to  the  waist,  low  neck, 
but  wore  no  jewelry ;  her  mother,  however, 
wore  elegant  diamond  ear-drops,  rings,  and 
pins.  When,  therefore,  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  evening  announced  to  Miss  Groes- 
beck that  she  was  to  be  honored  with  the 
prince's  hand  for  the  second  dance,  Mrs. 
Groesbeck  quietly  took  off  her  own  jewelry 
and  passed  them  to  her  favored  daughter ; 
the  latter  declined  them.  Her  mother 
insisted;  !>ut  Miss  Groesbeck,  with  equal 
determination,  positively  refused  to  wear 
any  kind  of  ornament  other  than  her  sim- 
ple dress  and  the  wealth  of  beauty  which 
Nature  had  bestowed  on  her. 

It  is  not  exaggerating,  to  say  that  the 
prince  made  an  agreeable  impression 
wherever  he  went.  He  was  described  by 
ne  of  the  newspaper  reporters,  as  follows  : 
'He  seems  to  be  about  five  feet  four  inches 
high ;  his  eye  is  beautifully  blue,  mild, 
funny,  clear,  and  jolly;  his  nose  is  well 
defined,  not  perfectly  straight,  but  clean- 
cut  and  prominent;  his  mouth  is  full,  and 
his  chin  retreats  wonderfully.  His  coun- 
tenance indicates  a  happy  dispositioned, 
good-natured,  humorous,  fun-loving  boy, 
who  knows  what  he  is  about,  and  can't 
easily  be  fooled.  His  hair  is  soft  and  fine, 
though  disposed  to  grow  rather  low  down 
the  neck  and  on  the  forehead,  whilst  his 
head  is  well  shaped,  and  would  indicate 
firmness,  benevolence,  quickness  of  percep- 
tion, and  love  of  music.  The  very,  very 
large  hands  and  feet  of  the  young  gentle- 
man are  but  reproductions  of  those  of  hia 


royal  mother,  to  whom  Dame  Nature  has 
been  very  generous  in  that  regard.  His 
form  is  small  and  very  well  proportioned, 
and  his  bearing  is  dignified,  manly,  and 
modest."  His  dress  varied  much,  of 
course,  with  the  place  and  occasion,  but 
was  always  simple,  elegant,  and  appro- 
priate. 

Portland,  Me.,  was  the  place  from  which 
the  illustrious  guest  of  the  nation  took  his 
departure  for  England.  As  the  royal 
barge  left  the  wharf  to  convey  the  prince 
to  the  Hero,  the  British  squadron  all  fired 
a  royal  salute  of  twenty-one  guns,  and  sim- 
ilar salutes  were  fired  from  the  city  and 
from  Fort  Preble.  The  harbor  was  full  of 
steamers,  sail-boats,  barges,  etc.,  which 
accompanied  the  royal  barge  from  the 
wharf.  As  the  flotilla  neared  the  royal 
squadron,  the  yards  were  manned,  and  this, 
with  the  strings  of  bunting  and  flags  flying 
from  every  point-  of  the  fleet,  formed  a 
magnificent  spectacle,  which  was  witnessed 
by  an  immense  concourse  of  people.  To 
all  the  parting  salutations,  the  British 
ships  responded  by  dipping  their  colors  ; 
and,  as  the  squadron  sailed,  the  bands  oh 
board  each  vessel  played  Yankee  Doodle, 
and  Fort  Preble  saluted  the  party  with 
farewell  guns  as  they  passed. 

So  heart-felt,  generous,  and  enthusiastic 
a  reception  of  the  prince,  in  America,  pro- 
duced the  highest  satisfaction  throughout 
England.  The  queen,  at  an  early  day, 
caused  to  be  officially  communicated  to  the 
president  and  to  the  people  of  the  United 
States,  "her  grateful  sense  of  the  kindness 
with  which  they  received  her  son ; "  the 
hospitality  shown  him  was  warmly  com- 
plimented in  parliament ;  and  Prince  Al- 
bert, as  chancellor  of  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  directed  that  the  annual  gold 
medal  there  given  for  the  encouragement 
of  English  poetry,  should,  that  year,  be 
awarded  for  the  best  poem  on  "  The  Prince 
of  Wales  at  the  Tomb  of  Washington." 


l.XT. 

BOMBARDMENT   AND   REDUCTION   OF   FORT   SUM- 

TER.— 1861. 


Inauguration  of  Civil  War  in  the  United  States. — First  Military  Act  in  the  Long  and  Bloody  Struggle 
to  Dismember  the  Union. — Organization  of  the  Southern  Confederacy. — President  Lincoln's  Procla- 
mation for  75,000  Volunteers. — Spontaneous  Uprising  of  the  Loyal  People. — Calling  the  Battle-Roll 
of  the  Republic — Supreme  Crisis  in  the  Fate  of  the  Nation. — Northern  and  Southern  Variances. — Slav- 
ery the  Cause  of  Contention. — Culmination  of  the  Antagonism. — Disunion  the  Banner  of  the  South. 
— Secession  of  Several  States. — War  Wager  Boldly  Staked. — Vain  Efforts  at  Reconciliation. — Federal 
Property  Seized  at  the  South. — Batteries  Erected  at  Charleston. — Fort  Sumter  Closely  Besieged. 
— Beauregard  Demands  its  Surrender. — Major  Anderson's  Flat  Refusal. — Weakness  of  His  Garrison. 
— Attempts  to  Re-enforce  It  — Prevented  by  Confederate  Batteries. — All  Eyes  Riveted  on  the  Fort. — 
Opening  of  the  Attack,  April  14th  — Incessant  and  Tremendous  Fire. — Terms  of  Evacuation  Accepted. 
— Southern  Rejoicings. — The  Great  Military  Outlook. — Washington  the  National  Key. 


*•  Can  either  of  yon  to-day  name  one  single  act  of  wrong,  deliberately  and  purposely  done  by  the  government  at  Washington,  of  whiek 
the  South  has  a  ri^ht  to  complain ?  1  challenge  an  anawer."—  Hon.  ALEX.  Id.  STEPHENS,  BEFORE  THE  GEOBOIA  SECESSION  CUHVEIT- 
Tioir. 


IGHTY-FOUR  years  had  now 
sped  their  course,  since  the 
republic  of  the  United  States, 
with  the  immortal  Declara- 
tion of  Independence  as  its  Magna  Char- 
ta  of  sovereignty,  took  a  place  among 
the  governments  of  the  earth  as  a  free 
and  independent  nation,  and,  during  all 
that  long  period,  the  federal  armies  had 
been  called  to  face — with  but  an  occa- 
sional local  and  transient  exception — 
only  external  or  savage  foes.  Party 
spirit,  it  is  true,  had  not  unfrequently 
ran  high,  and  hurled  defiance  at  law  and  its  administrators,  and  at  times,  the  strain 
upon  the  ship  of  state  seemed  near  to  proving  its  destruction ;  but  forbearance,  com- 
promise, fraternity  and  patriotism,  smoothed  the  rough  waves  of  contention,  and  peace 
regained  her  benign  sway. 

But  the  long  existing  and  bitter  antagonism  of  opinion  on  the  subject  of  slavery, 
between  the  North  and  the  South,  culminated  at  last — on  the  inauguration  of  Mr. 
Lincoln  as  president,  in  1861. — in  a  civil  war,  the  extent,  duration,  and  horrors  of 
which  have  never  been  paralleled  in  any  age  or  among  any  people,  since  the  world 


V 

FLAG  OF  FORT  SCMTEK,  AFTER  THE  BOMBARDMENT. 


502 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FORT  SUMTEE. 


began.  In  vain  did  President  Lincoln  de- 
clare, in  his  inaugural,  his  opposition  to 
any  interference  with  slavery  in  the  states 
where  it  existed,  in  vain  were  assurances 
to  the  same  effect  proffered  by  the  party 
that  had  just  triumphed  in  the  presiden- 
tial contest,  and  in  vain  were  conferences 
and  consultations  held  by  the  leading 
statesmen  and  politicians  of  different  sec- 
tions, with  a  view  to  avert  the  calamity  of 
war. 

Intent  on  a  separate  national  existence, 
under  which  they  might  maintain  unmo- 
lested, as  well  as  extend,  the  institution  of 
slavery,  the  southern  states  recalled  their 
senators  and  representatives  from  congress, 
flung  out  the  bannes  of  Secession — which 
was  the  wager  and  signal  of  War, — and, 
as  an  initial  step,  commenced  the  seizure 
of  United  States  custom-houses,  arsenals, 
forts,  and  other  public  property,  within 
their  borders. 

First  in  order  of  importance,  in  this 
startling  programme  of  overt  acts,  was  the 
movement  of  the  authorities  of  South  Car- 
olina to  possess  themselves  of  Fort  Sum- 
ter,  in  Charleston  harbor,  before  opportu- 
nity should  be  gained  by  the  national 
government  to  re-enforce  its  scanty  re- 
sources of  men  and  provisions.  To  this 
end,  extensive  batteries  were  erected  on 
the  shores  opposite  the  fort,  by  means  of 
which,  any  ordinary  naval  force  which  the 
federal  authorities  then  had  available  for 
conveying  supplies,  could  easily  be  crippled 
in  attempting  such  assistance. 

In  this  besieged  condition,  the  brave 
and  loyal  commander  of  the  fort,  Major 
Robert  Anderson,  and  his  true-hearted 
men,  were  kept  for  several  weeks,  with  the 
eager  eyes  of  millions  of  admiring  coun- 
trymen riveted  upon  them.  The  vessel 
which  was  finally  dispatched  by  the  rfiivy 
department  for  their  relief,  was  shelled  by 
the  batteries  and  compelled  to  return 
without  fulfilling  her  mission.  This  was 
done  in  accordance  with  the  orders  received 
from  the  secession  authorities  at  Mont- 
gomery, Ala.,  where  a  government  styled 
the  Confederate  States  of  America  had 
been  formally  established,  with  Jefferson 


Davis  as  president,  and  which  was  to  as- 
sume all  the  responsibility  and  direction 
of  that  mighty  struggle  through  which,  as 
they  expected,  southern  independence  was 
to  be  secured,  and  the  Republic  of  the 
United  States  rent  in  twain. 

After  various  official  preliminaries,  on 
either  side,  but  without  arriving  at  any 
satisfactory  understanding,  a  demand  was 
made,  April  llth,  by  General  Beauregard, 
commander  of  the  insurgent  batteries,  for 
the  surrender  of  the  fort.  This  demand 
was  declined  by  Major  Anderson — all  the 
officers  having  been  consulted  by  him  in 
regard  to  the  summons.  At  about  three 
o'clock,  on  the  morning  of  the  12th,  notice 
was  given  that  fire  would  be  opened  on  the 
fort  in  one  hour,  unless  the  demand  to 
surrender  was  instantly  complied  with. 
Major  Anderson  resolved  not  to  return  fire 
until  broad  daylight,  not  wishing  to  waste 
any  of  his  ammunition.  From  the  state- 
ments made  by  the  officers  of  Fort  Sumter, 
it  appears  that  fire  was  opened  upon  the 
fort  from  all  points  at  once,  and,  to  the 
astonishment  of  its  defenders,  a  masked 
battery  of  heavy  columbiads  opened  on 
them  from  that  part  of  Sullivan's  Island 
near  the  floating  battery,  of  the  existence 
of  which  Major  Anderson  had  not  the 
slightest  intimation.  It  was  covered  with 
brush  and  other  materials,  which  com- 
pletely concealed  it,  and  was  skillfully  con- 
structed and  well  secured.  Seventeen 
mortars,  firing  ten-inch  shell,  and  thirty- 
three  heavy  guns,  mostly  columbiads,  were 
engaged  in  the  assault.  The  crash  made 
by  the  shot  against  the  walls  was  terrific, 
and  many  of  the  shells  took  effect  inside 
the  fort.  The  inmates  took  breakfast  at 
half-past  six  o'clock,  leisurely  and  calmly, 
after  which  the  command  was  formed  into 
three  reliefs,  equally  dividing  the  officers 
and  men.  The  first  relief  was  under  the 
command  of  Captain  Doubleday,  of  the 
artillery,  and  Lieutenant  Snyder,  of  the 
engineer  corps.  This  detachment  went  to 
the  guns  and  opened  fire  upon  the  Cum- 
mings's  Point  battery,  Fort  Moultrie,  and 
Sullivan's  Island.  The  Iron  Battery  was 
of  immense  strength,  so  that  most  of  the 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FORT  SUMTER. 


5U3 


shots  from  Fort  Sumter  struck  and  glanced 
off  again.  The  fire  was  so  terrible  on  the 
parapet  of  Fort  Sumter,  that  Major  Ander- 
son refused  to  allow  the  men  to  man  the 
guns.  Had  they  been  permitted  to  do  so, 
every  one  of  them  would  have  been  sacri- 
ficed. Fort  Monltrie  was  considerably 
damaged  by  the  cannonading  from  Fort 
Sumter,  a  great  many  shots  having  taken 
effect  on  the  embrasures.  A  new  English 
rifled  gun,  which  was  employed  by  the 
insurgents,  was  fired  with  great  accuracy, 
several  of  its  shots  entering  the  embra- 
sures of  Fort  Sumter,  and  one  of  them 
slightly  wounded  four  men. 


The  reliefs  were  changed  every  four 
hours,  and  the  men  owed  their  safety  to 
the  extraordinary  care  exercised  by  the 
officers  in  command.  A  man  was  kept 
constantly  on  the  look-out,  who  would  cry 
'  shot,'  or  '  shell,'  at  every  shot  the  enemy 
made,  thus  affording  the  men  exposed 
ample  opportunity  for  shelter.  The  gar- 
rison was  lamentably  weak  in  numbers ; 
but  the  workmen,  though  at  first  rather 
reluctant  to  assist  the  soldiers  in  handling 
the  guns,  gradually  took  hold  and  rendered 
yaluable  assistance.  Indeed,  but,  few  shots 
were  fired  before  every  one  of  them  be- 
came desperately  engaged  in  the  conflict. 
They  had  to  abandon  one  gun,  on  account 
of  the  close  fire  made  upon  it.  Hearing 
the  fire  renewed  with  it,  however,  an  offi- 
cer went  to  the  spot,  and  there  found  a 
party  of  workmen  still  employed  in  serving 
it.  One  of  the  workmen  was  stooping 


over  it  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  con- 
vulsed with  joy,  with  the  tears  rolling 
down  his  powder-begrimined  cheeks. 
"What  are  you  doing  here  with  that 
gun  ?  "  the  officer  asked.  "  Hit  it  right 
in  the  center,''  was  the  reply, — the  man 
meaning  that  his  shot  had  taken  effect  in 
the  center  of  the  floating  battery. 

The  aim  of  the  insurgents  was  particu- 
larly directed  at  the  flag-staff,  from  which 
waved  proudly  the  stars  and  stripes ;  and, 
after  two  days'  incessant  firing,  the  flag- 
staff was  finally  shot  away.  The  effect 
of  such  continuous  firing  was  terribly 
damaging.  "  On,e  tower,"  says  one  of 
the  garrison,  "  was  so  completely  de- 
molished that  not  one  brick  was  left 
standing  upon  the  other.  The  barracks 
caught  fire  on  the  first  day  several  times, 
but  in  every  instance  was  put  out  by  Mr. 
Hart,  of  New  York,  a  volunteer,  who  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  for  his 
coolness  and  bravery.  On  the  second  dav, 
the  barracks  crught  fire  from  a  ten-inch 
shell,  and  the  danger  to  be  encountered  in 
the  attempt  to  extinguish  it  being  so  great, 
the  major  concluded  not  to  attempt  it. 
The  effect  of  the  fire  was  more  disastrous 
that  we  could  have  supposed.  The  subse- 
quent shots  of  the  enemy  took  more  effect 
in  consequence ;  the  walls  were  weakened, 
and  we  were  more  exposed.  The  main 
gates  were  destroyed  by  fire,  thus  leaving 
us  exposed  to  the  murderous  aim  of  the 
enemy.  Five  hundred  men  could  have 
formed  on  the  gorge,  and  marched  on  us 
without  our  being  able  to  oppose  them. 
The  fire  spread  around  the  fort  on  all  sides. 
Fearful  that  the  walls  might  crack,  and 
the  shells  pierce  and  prostrate  them,  we 
commenced  taking  the  powder  out  of  the 
magazine  before  the  fire  had  fully  envel- 
oped it.  We  took  ninety-six  barrels  of 
powder  out,  and  threw  them  into  the  sea, 
leaving  two  hundred  barrels  in.  Owing 
to  a  lack  of  cartridges,  we  kept  five  men 
inside  the  magazine,  to  sew  them  up  as  we 
wanted  them,  thus  consuming  our  shirts, 
sheets,  blankets,  and  all  the  available  ma- 
terial in  the  fort.  When  we  were  finally 
obliged  to  close  the  magazine,  and  our 


5U4 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FOET  SUMTEE. 


material  for  cartridges  was  exhausted,  we 
were  left  destitute  of  any  means  to  con- 
tinue the  contest.  We  had  eaten  our  last 
biscuit  thirty-six  hours  before.  We  were 
very  nearly  stifled  with  the  dense  smoke 
from  the  burning  buildings.  The  men  lay 
prostrate  on  the  ground,  with  wet  hand- 
kerchiefs over  their  mouths  and  eyes,  gasp- 
ing for  breath.  It  was  a  moment  of  immi- 
nent peril.  If  an  eddy  of  wind  had  not 
ensued,  we  all,  probably,  would  have  been 
suffocated.  The  crashing  of  the  shot,  the 
bursting  of  the  shells,  the  falling  of  walls, 
and  the  roar  of  the  flames,  made  a  Pande- 
monium of  the  fort.  We  nevertheless 
kept  up  a  steady  fire.  Early  in  the  after- 
noon of  the  13th,  ex-senator  Wigfall,  of 
Texas, — who  had  become  an  officer  in  the 
Confederate  military  service, — seeing  the 
inequality  of  the  contest,  made  his  appear- 
ance at  one  of  the  embrasures  with  a  white 
handkerchief  on  the  end  of  a  sword,  and 
begged  for  admittance.  He  asked  to  see 
Major  Anderson.  While  Wigfall  was  in 
the  act  of  crawling  through  the  embrasure, 
Lieutenant  Snyder  called  out  to  him, 
"Major  Anderson  is  at  the  main  gate." 
He  passed  through  the  embrasure  into  the 
casement,  paying  no  attention  to  what  the 
lieutenant  had  said.  Here  he  was  met 
by  Captain  Foster  and  Lieutenants  Mead 
and  Davis.  In  an  excited  manner  he 
said — 

"  Let  us  stop  this  firing.  You  are  on 
fire,  and  your  flag  is  down.  Let  us  quit." 

"No,  sir,"  replied  Lieutenant  Davis, 
"our  flag  is  not  down.  Step  out  here,  and 
you  will  see  it  waving  over  the  ramparts." 

"Let  us  quit  this,"  said  Wigfall; 
"  here's  a  white  flag — will  anybody  wave 
it  out  of  the  embrasure  ?  " 

"  That  is  for  you  to  do,  if  you  choose," 
replied  one  of  the  officers. 

"  If  there  is  no  one  else  to  do  it,  I  will," 
said  Wigfall. 

He  immediately  jumped  into  the  em- 
brasure, and  waved  the  flag  towards  Fort 
Moultrie.  The  firing,  however,  still  con- 
tinued from  Moultrie  and  the  batteries  of 
Sullivan's  Island.  In  answer  to  his  re- 
peated request,  one  of  the  officers  said 


that  one  of  Sumter's  men  might  hold  the 
flag,  and  Corporal  Binghurst  jumped  into 
the  embrasure.  The  shot  continuing  to 
strike  all  around  him,  he  leaped  down 
again,  after  having  waved  the  flag  a  few 
moments,  and  exclaimed — 

"  They  don't  respect  this  flag ;  they  are 
firing  at  it." 

"They  fired  at  me  two  or  three  times," 
replied  Wigfall,  "and  I  stood  it,  and  I 
should  think  you  might  stand  it  once.  If 
3'ou  will  show  a  white  flag  from  your  ram- 
parts, they  will  cease  firing." 

"  If  you  request,"  said  Lieutenant  Da- 
vis, "that  a  flag  shall  be  shown  there, 
while  you  hold  a  conference  with  Major 
Anderson,  and  for  that  purpose  alone,  it 
may  be  done." 

At  this  point  Major  Anderson  came  up. 
Wigfall  said,  "I  am  General  Wigfall,  and 
come  from  General  Beauregard,  who 
wishes  to  stop  this." 

Major  Anderson,  rising  to  his  full 
height,  replied,  "  Well,  sir  ! " 

"Major  Anderson,"  exclaimed  Wigfall, 
"you  have  defended  your  flag  noLly,  sir. 
You  have  done  all  that  it  is  possible  for 
men  to  do,  and  General  Beauregard  wishes 
to  stop  the  fight.  On  what  terms,  Major 
Anderson,  will  you  evacuate  this  fort  ?  " 

"General  Beauregard  is  already  ac- 
quainted with  my  only  terms,"  was  Major 
Anderson's  reply. 

"  Do  I  understand  that  you  will  evacuate 
upon  the  terms  proposed  the  other  day?" 
inquired  Wigfall. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  on  those  conditions  only." 

"Then,  sir,"  said  Wigfall,  "I  under- 
stand that  the  fort  is  to  be  ours." 

"  On  these  conditions  onlj',  I  repeat." 

"Very  well,"  said  "Wigfall,  and  he  re- 
tired. 

A  short  time  afterwards,  a  deputation, 
consisting  of  Senator  Chesnut,  Roger  A. 
Pryor,  Capt.  S.  D.  Lee,  and  W.  Porcher 
Miles,  came  from  General  Beauregard  and 
had  an  interview  with  Major  Anderson, 
when  it  came  out  that  Wigfall  had  no 
authority  to  speak  for  General  Beauregard, 
but  acted  on  his  own  responsibility. 
"  Then,"  said  Lieutenant  Davis,  "  we  have 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FORT  SUMTER. 


505 


been  deceived ; "  and  Major  Anderson, 
perceiving  the  state  of  the  case,  ordered 
the  American  flag  to  be  raised  to  its  place. 
The  deputation,  however,  requested  him 
to  keep  the  flag  down  until  they  could 
communicate  with  General  Beauregard,  as 
matters  were  liable  to  be  complicated. 
They  left,  and,  between  two  and  three 
hours  after,  the  garrison  meanwhile  exert- 
ing themselves  to  extinguish  the  fire  in 
the  barracks,  another  deputation  came 
from  General  Beauregard,  agreeing  to  the 
terms  of  evacuation  previously  proposed. 
This  was  on  Saturday  evening.  That 
night  the  garrison  took  what  rest  they 
could.  Next  day,  the  steam-boat  Isabel 
came  down  and  anchored  near  the  fort. 


The  steamer  Clinch  was  used  as  a  trans- 
port to  take  the  garrison  to  the  Isabel,  but 
the  transfer  was  too  late  to  allow  the  Isa- 
bel to  go  out  with  that  tide.  The  terms 
of  evacuation  agreed  to  were,  that  the  gar- 
rison should  take  their  individual  and 
company  property,  and  that  they  should 
march  out  with  their  side  and  other  arms, 
•with  all  the  honors  of  war,  in  their  own 
way,  and  at  their  own  time,  and  that  they 
should  salute  their  flag  and  take  it  with 
them. 

The  insurgents  agreed  to  furnish  trans- 
ports, as  Major  Anderson  might  select,  to 
any  part  of  the  country,  either  by  land  or 
by  water.  When,  the  baggage  of  the  gar- 


rison was  all  on  board  of  the  transport,  the 
soldiers  remaining  inside  under  arms,  a 
portion  were-  designated  as  gunners  to 
serve  in  saluting  the  American  flag. 
When  the  last  gun  was- fired,  the  flag  was 
lowered,  the  men  cheering.  At  the  fiftieth 
discharge  there  was  a  premature  explosion, 
which  killed  one  man  instantly,  seriously 
wounded  another,  and  two  more  not  so 
badly.  The  men  were  then  formed  and 
marched  out,  the  band  playing  "  Yankee 
Doodle  "  and  "  Hail  to  the  Chief." 

In  regard  to  the  mode  ol  action  pursued 
by  Major  Anderson,  during  the  bombard- 
ment, his  sagacity  was  everywhere  mani- 
fest. So  small  was  the  number  of  his 
men,  as  to  necessitate  their  division  into 
reliefs,  or  equal  parties,  so  as  to  work 
the  different  batteries  by  turns,  each 
four  hours.  'Another  account  of  this 
terrible  scene  states  that  the  first  relief 
opened  upon  the  iron  batteries  at  Cum- 
mings  Point,  at  a  distance  of  sixteen 
hundred  yards,  the  iron  floating  bat- 
tery, distant  some  eighteen  hundred  or 
two  thousand  yards  at  the  end  of  Sulli- 
van's Island,  the  enfilading  battery  on 
Sullivan's  Island,  and  Fort  Moultrie, 
— Captain  Doubleday  firing  the  first 
gun,  and  all  the  points  just  named  be- 
ing opened  upon  simultaneously.  For 
the  first  four  hours,  the  firing  was  kept 
up  with  great  rapidity ;  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  men,  indeed,  was  so  great  that 
the  second  and  third  reliefs  could  not  be 
kept  from  the  guns.  This  accounts  for 
the  fact  that  double  the  number  of  guns 
were  at  work  during  the  first  four  hours 
than  at  any  other  time. 

Shells  burst  with  the  greatest  rapidity 
in  every  portion  of  the  work,  hurling  the 
loose  brick  and  stone  in  all  directions, 
breaking  the  windows,  and  setting  fire  to 
whatever  wood-work  they  burst  against. 
The  solid  shot  firing  of  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries, and  particularly  of  Fort  Moultrie, 
was  directed  at  the  barbette  guns  of  Fort 
Sumter,  disabling  one  ten-inch  and  one 
eight-inch  columbiad,  one  f  orty-two  pound- 
er, and  two  eight-inch  sea-coast  howit- 
zers, and  also  tearing  away  a  large  portion 


506 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FOKT  SUMTER. 


of  tlie  parapet.  The  firing  from  the  bat- 
teries on  Cummings  Point  was  scattered 
over  the  whole  of  the  gorge, 'or  rear,  of  the 
fort.  It  looked  like  a  sieve.  The  explo- 
sion of  shells,  and  the  quantity  of  deadly 
missiles  hurled  in  every  direction  and  at 
every  instant  of  time,  made  it  almost  cer- 
tain death  to  go  out  of  the  lower  tier  of 
casements,  and  also  made  the  working  of 
the  barbette,  or  upper  uncovered  guns, 
which  contained  all  the  heaviest  metals, 
and  by  which  alone  shells  could  be  thrown, 
quite  impossible.  During  the  first  day 
there  was  hardly  an  instant  of  time  that 
there  was  a  cessation  of  the  whizzing  of 
balls,  which  were  sometimes  coming  half  a 
dozen  at  once.  There  was  not  a  portion  of 
the  work  which  was  not  seen  in  reverse — 
that  is,  exposed  by  the  rear — from  mor- 
tars. 

On  Friday,  before  dinner,  several  of  the 
vessels  of  the  fleet  beyond  the  bar  were 
seen  through  the  port-holes.  They  dipped 
their  flag.  The  command  ordered  Sum- 
ter's  flag  to  be  dipped  in  return,  which 
was  done,  while  the  shells  were  bursting 
in  every  direction.  The  flagstaff  was  lo- 
cated in  the  open  parade,  being  about  the 
center  of  the  open  space  within  the  fort. 
Sergeant  Hart  saw  the  flag  half-way  down, 
and,  supposing  that  it  had  been  cut  by  the 
enemy's  shot,  rushed  out  through  the  fii-e 
to  assist  in  getting  it  up.  Shortly  after  it 
had  been  re-raised,  a  shell  burst  and  cut 
the  halyards,  but  the  rope  was  so  inter- 
twined around  the  halyards,  that  the  flag 
would  not  fall.  Sergeant  Hart  also  par- 
ticularly distinguished  himself  in  trying  to 
put  out  the  flames  in  the  quarters,  with 
shells  and  shot  crashing  around  him;  and, 
though  ordered  away  by  Major  Anderson, 
he  begged  hard  to  be  permitted  to  remain 
and  continue  his  exertions. 

One  great  misfortune  was,  that  there 
was  not  an  instrument  in  the  fort  by  which 
they  could  weigh  powder,  which  of  course 
destroyed  all  attempt  at  accuracy  of  firing. 
Nor  were  there  any  tangent  scales,  breech 
sides,  or  other  instruments  with  which  to 
point  a  gun.  When  it  became  so  dark  as 
to  render  it  impossible  to  see  the  effect  of 


their  shot,  the  port-holes  were  closed  for 
the  night,  while  the  batteries  of  the  seces- 
sionists continued  their  fire  the  whole 
night.  The  firing  of  the  rifled  guns  from 
the  iron  battery  on  Cummings  Point  be- 
came extremely  accurate  in  the  afternoon 
of  Friday,  cutting  out  large  quantities  of 
the  masonry  about  the  embrasures  at  every 
shot.  One  piece  struck  Sergeant  Kearnan, 
an  old  Mexican  war  veteran,  striking  him 
on  the  head  and  knocking  him  down. 
Upon  being  revived,  he  was  asked  if  he 
was  hurt  badly.  He  replied,  "  No !  I  was 
only  knocked  down  temporarily ;  "  and  he 
went  to  work  again.  On  Saturday,  when 
the  barracks  were  on  fire,  the  wind  sc 
directed  the  smoke  as  to  fairly  fill  the  fort, 
so  that  the  men  could  not  see  each  other, 
and,  with  the  hot,  stifling  air,  it  was  as 
much  as  a  man  could  do  to  breathe.  Soon 
they  were  obliged  to  cover  their  faces  with 
wet  cloths  in  order  to  get  along  at  all,  so 
dense  was  the  smoke  and  so  scorching  the 
heat.  But  few  cartridges  were  left,  and 
the  guns  were  fired  slowly ;  nor  could  more 
cartridges  be  made,  on  account  of  the 
sparks  falling  in  every  part  of  the  works. 
A  gun  was  fired  every  now  and  then,  only 
to  let  the  people  and  the  fleet  in  the  town 
know  that  the  fort  had  not  been  silenced. 
The  cannoneers  could  not  see  to  aim,  much 
less  where  they  hit. 

After  the  barracks  were  well  on  fire,  the 
shells  and  ammunition  in  the  upper  ser- 
vice-magazines exploded,  scattering  the 
tower  and  upper  portions  of  the  building 
in  every  direction.  The  crash  of  the 
beams,  the  roar  of  the  flames,  the  rapid 
explosion  of  the  shells,  and  the  shower  of 
fragments  of  the  fort,  with  the  blackness 
of  the  smoke,  made  the  scene  indescriba- 
bly terrific  and  grand.  This  continued  for 
several  hours.  Meanwhile,  the  main  gates 
were  burned  down,  the  chassis  of  the  bar- 
bette guns  were  burned  away  on  the  gorge, 
and  the  upper  portions  of  the  towers  had 
been  demolished  by  shells.  There  was  not 
a  portion  of  the  fort  where  a  breath  of  air 
could  be  got  for  hours,  except  through  a 
wet  cloth.  The  fire  spread  through  to  the 
men's  quarters,  on  the  right  hand  and  on 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FORT  SUMTER. 


507 


UTTERIOR  OF   FORT    SUJ1TEK  AFTER  TUB  BOMBAKIJME.Ni.3»gg| 

the  left,  and  endangered  the  powder  that 
had  been  taken  out  of  the  magazines. 
The  men  went  through  the  fire  and  cov- 
ered the  barrels  with  wet  cloths,  but  the 
danger  of  the  fort's  blowing  up  became  so 
imminent,  that  they  were  obliged  to  heave 
the  barrels  out  of  the  embrasures.  While 
the  powder  was  being  thrown  overboard, 
all  the  guns  of  Moultrie,  of  the  iron  float- 
ing battery,  of  the  enfilade  battery,  and 
the  Dahlgren  battery,  worked  with  in- 
creased vigor. 

The  interior  of  Fort  Sumter,  as  seen 
after  the  evacuation  and  described  by  the 
newspaper  reporters,  showed  the  work  that 
had  been  done  during  the  bombardment. 
Every  point  and  every  object,  to  which  the 
eye  was  turned,  except  the  outer  walls  and 
casements,  bore  the  impress  of  ruin.  The 
walls  of  the  internal  structure,  roofless, 
bare,  blackened  and  perforated  by  shot  and 
shell,  hung  in  fragments,  and  seemed  in 
instant  readiness  to  totter  down.  Near 
the  center  of  the  parade  ground  was  the 
hurried  grave  of  one  who  had  fallen  in 
defense  of  his  country's  flag.  To  the  left 
of  the  entrance  was  a  man  who  seemed  at 
the  verge  of  death.  In  the  ruins  to  the 
right  there  was  another.  The  shattered 
flag-staff,  marked  by  four  balls,  lay  on  the 


ground.  The  parade  ground  was  strewn 
with  fragments  of  shell  and  of  the  dilapi- 
dated buildings.  At  least  four  guns  were 
dismounted  on  the  ramparts,  and  at  every 
step  the  way  was  impeded  by  materials  of 
the  broken  structure.  The  whole  scene 
was  one  of  frightful  desolation,  causing 
indescribable  feelings  in  every  loyal  heart. 
On  the  18th  of  April,  Major  Anderson, 
then  on  his  way  to  New  York,  in  the 
steamship  Baltic,  penned  his  official  dis- 
patch to  Mr.  Cameron,  secretary  of  war, 
stating  that,  "having  defended  Fort  Sum- 
ter for  thirty-four  hours,  until  the  quar- 


508 


BOMBARDMENT  OF  FORT  SUMTER. 


ters  were  entirely  burned,  the  main  gates 
destroyed  by  fire,  the  gorge  wall  seriously 
injured,  the  magazine  surrounded  by 
flames,  and  its  door  closed  from  the  effects 
of  the  heat,  four  barrels  and  three  car- 
tridges of  powder  only  being  available, 
and  no  provisions  but  pork  remaining,  I 
accepted  terms  of  evacuation  offered  by 
General  Beauregard,  being  the  same  of- 
fered by  him  on  the  llth  instant,  prior  to 
the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and 
marched  out  of  the  fort  Sunday  afternoon, 
the  14th  instant,  with  colors  flying  and 
drums  beating,  bringing  away  company 
and  private  property,  and  saluting  my  flag 
with  fifty  guns."  Major  Anderson  and  his 
men  received  the  thanks  of  the  govern- 
ment for  their  gallant  defense  of  the  fort 
against  such  odds. 

As  soon  as  the  national  flag  had  ceased 
to  wave  over  Fort  Sumter,  the  president 
issued  a  proclamation  for  an  extra  session 
of  congress,  to  convene  July  4th,  and  also 
calling  for  seventy-five  thousand  men,  in 
order  "to  maintain  the  honor,  the  integ- 
rity, and  existence  of  our  national  Union 
and  the  perpetuity  of  popular  government, 
and  to  redress  wrongs  already  long  enough 
endured."  This  proclamation  was  of 
course  spurned  and  ridiculed  by  the  seven 
states — South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Alabama, 
Florida,  Mississippi,  Louisiana,  and  Texas 
— that  had  formed  themselves  into  the 
Southern  Confederacy ;  and,  by  the  other 
southern  states,  as  also  by  the  border 
states,  it  was  treated  with  mingled  con- 
tempt and  indignation.  But,  throughout 
the  vast  North  and  West,  it  was  received 
and  responded  to  with  an  enthusiasm 
which  showed  that  the  attempt  to  dismem- 
ber the  North  American  Republic  and 
blot  it  out  from  the  map  of  nations,  was  to 
be  resisted  to  the  last  dollar  and  the  last 
man.  The  supreme  hour  in  the  history  of 
the  nation  had  now  arrived,  and,  reluctant 
as  were  the  loyal  states  to  engage  in  the 
horrors  of  fratricidal  strife,  the  wager  of 
war  was  the  only  alternative  which  now 
presented  itself.  The  national  fate  hung 
trembling  in  the  scale  of  destiny,  and  the 


people  rose  in  their  might;  party  lines 
were  obliterated;  the  battle-roll  of  the 
republic  was  called ;  the  old  flag  seemed 
never  before  so  dear  to  the  patriot's  heart. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  successful  reduc- 
tion of  Fort  Surnter  inspired  universal 
enthusiasm  at  the  south,  in  behalf  of  the 
secession  cause,  —  Virginia,  Tennessee, 
North  Carolina,  Arkansas,  and  Missouri 
joined  the  Confederacy,  —  and  gigantic 
preparations  were  made  for  a  contest  which 
should  result  in  separation  and  independ- 
ence. Armies  were  formed  and  equipped, 
and  defensive  fortifications  erected,  in  all 
the  disunion  states. 

At  the  head  of  the  armies  of  the  loyal 
states  was  Lieutenant-General  Scott,  di- 
recting all  the  preparations  and  move- 
ments for  the  impending  conflict,  and  espe- 
cially devoting  his  military  skill  to  the 
protection  of  the  federal  capital.  It  was 
said  that  he  had  all  along  been  averse, 
from  purely  military  considerations,  to  the 
re-enforcement  of  Fort  Sumter,  it  being, 
like  Charleston,  of  no  strategic  importance, 
requiring  a  valuable  force  to  hold  it,  with 
no  adequate  advantage  gained.  He  re- 
garded Fort  Pickens,  in  the  Gulf,  and 
Washington,  the  capital,  as  the  two  keys 
of  the  position.  On  the  4th  of  March,  and 
for  some  weeks  afterward,  it  would  have 
been  almost  impossible  for  the  federal  gov- 
ernment to  defend  Washington  against 
such  a  force  as  had  already  been  collected 
by  the  secessionists  before  Sumter,  and 
which  could  be  marched  at  any  time  on  a 
capital  unprepared  for  defense.  General 
Scott's  plans,  based  on  these  facts,  were  at 
once  laid.  No  time  was  lost  in  strength- 
ening the  capital.  Success  attended  the 
effort  to  increase  the  garrison  of  Fort 
Pickens,  and  at  last  Washington  was  rea- 
sonably safe. 

And  thus  commenced  what  finally 
proved  to  be  the  most  gigantic  and  bloody 
struggle  in  the  annals  of  human  strife,  the 
result  of  the  conflict,  too,  being  the  most 
momentous,  perhaps,  in  its  relations  to  the 
interests  of  the  human  race,  of  any  since 
the  world  began. 


LXII. 

ASTONISHING    FEATS    OF    HORSE-TAMING   PERFORMED 
BY  MR.  JOHN  S.  RARET.— 1861. 


The  most  Savage  and  Furious  Animals  made  Tractable  as  Lambs. — The  Ferocious  and  Far-Famed 
"Cruiser"  Lies  Docile  at  His  Master's  Feet. — Acclamations  of  Wonder  and  Admiration  by  Crowded 
Audiences. — Brilliant  Honors  from  Monarchs  and  Courts  Abroad.— Philosophy  of  Mr.  Rarey's 
Method  and  Success. — Mr.  Rarey  Personally. — Boyhood  Fondness  for  Horses. — Aptness  in  Training 
Them. — Discovers  an  Improved  Method. — Its  Perfect  Success. — Wild  Prairie  Horses  Subdued. — 
Determines  to  Exhibit  Abroad. — His  Skill  Challenged  in  London. — "Cruiser"  to  be  the  Great  Test. 
— Rage  and  Fury  of  the  Animal. — Plunging,  Rearing,  Yelling,  Biting. — Rarey's  Complete  Triumph. — 
Monarchs  and  Princes  Present. — Their  Surprise  and  Delight  — Victoria's  Rapturous  Applause.— 
Exhibitions  in  the  United  States. — Terrible  Cases  Dealt  With. — Rarey  Always  Conqueror. — His 
Calm,  Fine,  Firm  Voice. — Cool,  Quiet,  Quick  Movements. — Magnetism  of  His  Presence. — Details  of 
the  Svstem. 


"  lean  break  nny  animal,  of  whatever  age  or  habits,  in  the  world.    I  can  make  any  animal  sensible  of  my  power— make  him  gentle  and 
te."— MR.  RAREY,  AT  NIBLO'S  GABDES,  NEW  YOKE. 


ertn  affectionate.' 


"CRUISER,"    CSTAMED. 


OVEL  and  extraordinary,  to  a  degree  bordering 
on  the  marvelous,  were  the  exhibitions 
with  which  the  name  of  John  S.  Rarey, 
of  Ohio,  became  so  popularly  identified, 
both   in    America   and   Europe,  in  the 
management  of  that  noblest,  as  well  as 
most  useful  and  beautiful,  of  animals,  the 
horse.     Wondering  and  delighted  crowds 
attended  these  exhibitions,  in  all 
the  principal  cities  of  this  country ; 
and,   abroad,   crowned   heads  and 
titled  dignitaries  were  among  the 
gifted  champion's  most  enthusias- 
tic auditors, — and  there,  as  well  as 
at   home,   every  American  felt  a 
just  pride  in  the  laurels  achieved 
by    their    countryman.      Such    a 
decided    sensation,  —  at    once    so 

exciting,  pleasant,  and  universal,  may  well  have  a  place  in  the 
national  gallery  of  things  noteworthy  and  agreeable.  Surely, 
few,  if  any,  of  the  marvels  recorded  in  that  wonderful  French 
book,  "  The  Great  Wizard,"  which  Dr.  R.  Shelton  McKenzie 


510 


RAREY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


has  given  to  the  English  reader  in  so  fasci- 
nating a  dress,  can  be  said  to  equal  the 
feats  performed  by  the  very  practical  wiz- 
ard of  Ohio,  in  the  different  cities  of  the 
Union  in  1861,  and  which  cast  all  that  is 
merely  ideal  or  legerdemain  far  and  for- 
ever into  the  shade. 

At  the  time  of  these  astonishing  tri- 
umphs, Mr.  Rarey  was  a  slightly  built 
man,  about  thirty  years  of  age.  He  was 
the  son  of  a  stock  farmer  and  breeder  of 
horses,  who  lived  in  Franklin  county,  Ohio, 
and  was  himself  engaged  in  a  similar  occu- 
pation at  a  place  called  Groveport,  about 
ten  miles  from  Columbus,  the  capital  of 
that  state.  From  boyhood  he  is  ,  tated  to 
have  exhibited  an  intense  fondi  ^ss  for 
horses  and  a  remarkable  aptitude  for 
breaking  and  training  them  after  the  old 
fashion,  until  he  discovered  a  more  humane 
mode  of  treatment,  and  which  he  soon 
put  into  practice  with  the  greatest  success 
in  his  native  state.  The  subjects  on  which 
he  operated  were  in  many  cases  horses 
reclaimed  in  a  perfectly  wild  condition 
from  the  western  prairies,  and  in  the 
course  of  his  experience  he  had  several  of 
his  limbs  broken,  but  without  at  all  damp- 
ening his  enthusiasm  or  diminishing  his 
faith. 

Appreciating  the  Englishman's  superior 
love  ant?  care  for  the  horse,  Mr.  Rarey 
visited  England  at  the  outset  of  his  career, 
for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting  and  introduc- 
ing his  system  of  training  in  that  country. 
His  success  was  such  as  to  elicit  the  most 
unbounded  admiration,  mingled  with  at , 
least  an  equal  degree  of  astonishment,  «n 
the  part  of  audiences  the  most  crowded 
and  brilliant,  including  veteran  horse- 
trainers  from  far  and  near.  Among  the 
latter  class,  were  not  a  few  who  regarded 
the  American  performer  with  somewhat  of 
professional  jealousy,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  following  challenge  of  his  skill 
was  received  by  him  from  a  high  source  : 
"  Mr.  Rarey  is  a  public  man,  and  of  course 
exposed  to  criticism.  Some  of  his  experi- 
ments have  proved  successful,  but  there 
has  not  been  time  enough  to  develop 
whether  the  docility  of  these  horses  upon 


whom  he  has  operated  is  as  durable  as  he 
alleges.  If,  however,  he  would  'walk  over 
the  course,'  and  set  criticism  at  defiance, 
let  him  go  down  some  morning  to  Mur- 
rell's  Green,  with  a  few  of  his  aristocratic 
friends,  and  try,  '  Cruiser,'  and  if  he  can 
ride  him  as  a  hack  I  guarantee  him  immor- 
tality, and  an  amount  of  ready  money  that 
would  make  a  British  bank  directors 
mouth  water.  The  'initiated'  will  not  be 
surprised  at  my  selecting  Cruiser;  but  as 
the  public  may  be  ignorant  of  him,  I  will 
append  some  particulars  of  his  history: 
Cruiser  was  the  property  of  Lord  Dor- 
chester, and  was  a  favorite  of  the  Derby 
in  Wild  Daynell's  year,  but  broke  down 
about  a  month  before  the  race.  Like  all 
horses  of  Venison  blood,  his  temper  was  not 
of  the  mildest  kind,  and  his  owner  was  glad 
to  get  rid  of  him.  When  started  for  Raw- 
cliffe,  the  man  who  had  him  in  charge  was 
told  on  no  account  to  put  him  in  a  stable, 
as  he  would  never  get  him  out.  This 
injunction  was  of  course  disregarded,  for 
when  the  man  wanted  some  refreshment 
he  put  Cruiser  in  the  public  stable  and 
left  him.  To  get  him  out,  the  roof  of  the 
building  had  to  be  ripped  off.  At  Raw- 
cliffe,  Cruiser  was  always  exhibited  by  a 
groom  with  a  ticket-of-leave  bludgeon  in 
his  hand,  and  few  were  bold  enough  to 
venture  into  the  animal's  inclosure,  the 
cordial  wish  of  every  visitor  being  '  that 
some  friendly  bullet  would  lay  him  low.' 
This  animal,  then,  whose  temper  has 
depreciated  his  value  perhaps  a  thousand 
pounds,  I  think  would  be  'the  right  horse 
in  the  right  place,'  to  try  Mr.  Rarey  'a 
skill ;  and  as  the  locale  is  so  near  London, 
the  sooner  the  experiment  is  made  the 
better."  This  challenge  was  no  sooner 
received  than  accepted,  and,  as  the  vicious- 
ness  and  ferocity  of  Cruiser  had  hitherto 
utterly  baffled  every  attempt  at  subjection, 
the  trial  of  Mr.  Rarey's  skill  was  looked 
forward  to  with  intense  interest. 

Cruiser's  habit,  it  appears,  was  to 
scream  and  yell  when  any  one  approached 
him,  to  smash  up  his  stall  "into  lucifer 
matches,"  and  to  attempt  to  bite  and  de- 
stroy every  living  thing  in  his  neighbor- 


RAREY'S  FEATS  Of  HORSE-TAMING. 


51  L 


hood.  Noblemen  used  to  go  and  throw 
articles  into  his  brick  box,  in  order  to  see 
him  fight.  When  he  was  to  be  fed  or 
watered,  the  first  proceeding  with  his 
groom  was  to  ascertain,  by  thrusting  a  long 
pole  in  at  the  stable  door,  where  the  en- 
emy stood,  and  then  to  deposit  the  food, 
shut  the  door,  and  vanish  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. Mr.  Rarey  changed  all  this  in  a 
moment,  as  it  were.  He  ordered  the  sta- 
ble door  to  be  thrown  open,  introduced 
himself  according  to  his  system,  without 
delay,  and  in  half  an  hour  the  indomitable 
Cruiser  might  be  ridden  by  a  child,  could 
listen  tranquilly  to  the  beating  of  a  drum, 
and  stand  serene  even  if  an  umbrella 
were  flourished  in  his  face.  Gentle  as  a 
lamb,  he  followed  his  teacher  about  the 
arena  like  a  dog,  stopping  when  he  pointed 
his  finger,  lying  down  when  he  was  told, 
rising  again  when  he  obtained  permission, 
and  doing  all  this  in  a  mild,  good-humored 
sort  of  way,  as  if  the  wish  to  oblige  was 
the  sole  ruling  motive,  and  that  the  now 
docile  Cruiser  was  totally  unaware  of  that 
terrible  array  of  wh  ips  and  spurs,  bits  and 
muzzles,  with  whlih  his  first  teachers  had 
sought  to  check  his  ferocity  and  bring  him 
to  reason.  The  speedy,  easy,  and  com- 
plete success  of  Mr.  Rarey.  in  this  remark- 
able case,  gave  him,  at  once,  the  most  flat- 
tering and  exalted  reputation  from  one  end 
of  Europe  to  the  other. 

On  Mr.  Rarey's  appearance  at  Niblo's, 
in  New  York,  he  exhibited  this  renowned 
specimen  of  the  equine  race — an  animal 
over  sixteen  hands  high,  and  of  immense 
bone  and  muscle, — and  said:  "When  I 
went  to  England  and  exhibited  there,  the 
papers  all  said,  '  This  is  very  well,  but  try 
Cruiser ! '  I  immediately  wrote  to  Lord 
Dorchester,  about  the  horse,  and  he  replied 
that  the  horse  could  not  be  brought  to  me, 
but  that  I  must  come  to  him.  I  did  go  to 
him.  The  horse  had  not  been  out  of  his 
box  for  three  years ;  a  brick  stable  had  to 
be  built  for  him,  and  he  would  have  been 
shot,  but  he  was  the  last  of  a  race  of  splen- 
did blood-horses,  and  his  owner  was  anx- 
ious to  preserve  him  if  possible.  I  found 
that  by  his  biting  and  kicking  he  had  so 


injured  himself  that  he  could  not  be  taken 
out  of  his  box,  and  so  I  had  to  wait  for  his 
recovery.  I  went  down  to  see  him,  quietly 
and  unknown,  but  somehow  the  papers  got 
hold  of  it,  and  everybody  said  that  I  dared 
not  go  near  Cruiser."  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, Mr.  Rarey  was  detained  some 
three  weeks,  when  he  went  to  London, 
accompanied  by  the  now  subdued  steed. 

The  collar  and  muzzle  which  Cruiser 
used  to  vear  were  exhibited  by  Mr.  Rarey. 
His  owner  could  place  them  upon  him 
only  by  letting  a  rope  down  through  the 
roof  of  his  stall,  fastening  it  under  his 
neck,  and  raising  him  off  his  fore  feet. 
The  exhibition  at  Niblo's  was  the  first 
time  Cruiser  had  been  on  the  stage  in 
America.  "  We  have,"  said  Mr.  Rarey, 
"  had  no  rehearsal ;  but  instead  of  kicking, 
as  he  used,  he  will  now  (as  you  see)  give 
me  his  foot  like  a  gentleman."  Two 


JOHN  S.  RAREY. 


straps  were  now  shown,  being  all  that  had 
been  used  in  taming  this  horse.  Mr. 
Rarey,  on  being  asked  'to  explain,  more 
particularly,  how  he  approached  Cruiser, 
said :  "  I  think  horses  have  a  reason  for 
everything  they  do.  I  knew  if  I  ap- 
proached Cruiser  with  a  stick  he  would 
fight  me,  as  he  had  fought  others  who 
came  to  whip  him.  In  the  box  was  a 
double  door,  so  that  I  could  open  the 
upper  half.  I  went  quietly;  opened  the 
door  noiselessly.  Cruiser  turned  round,  saw 
me,  started  back  frightfully,  but  did  not 
attempt  to  come  at  me.  He  came  slowly 
up  to  smell  of  me  after  a  while,  and,  in 
spite  of  Lord  Dorchester's  entreaties,  I 


512 


RAREY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


stood  still.  Presently,  when  I  saw  that 
he  stood  naturally,  I  began  to  fondle  him. 
Lord  Dorchester  begged  me  to  tie  his 
head,  and  I  did  so,  but  you  never  saw 
such  fighting.  Finding  that  he  would 
either  kill  himself  or  tear  down  the  box,  I 
released  him,  and  began  all  over  again. 
After  he  allowed  me  to  fondle  him,  I  took 
him  into  the  straw-yard,  and  proceeded  as 
with  any  other  horse,  until  at  last  he 
would  let  me  take  any  liberty  with  him, 
and  Lord  Dorchester  mounted  him  with 
impunity."  Mr.  Rarey  declared  that 
Cruiser  was  about  as  celebrated  for  his 
viciousness  as  he  himself  was  for  taming 
him. 

A  horse  of  the  Messenger  breed,  excita- 
ble and  ferocious,  was  next  operated  upon. 
By  gently  fondling  his  head  and  caressing 
him,  Mr.  Rarey  succeeded  in  managing 
him  perfectly.  "  See,"  said  Mr.  Rarey, 
"  I  place  this  horse's  foot  upon  me.  There 
is  no  danger.  He  would  no  more  tread 
heavily  upon  me  than  a  mare  upon  her 
foal."  He  sat  upon  the  animal,  put  his 
hoofs  playfully  together,  and  rested  his 
aead  composedly  between  the  horse's  heels. 
At  first,  Mr.  Rarey  fastened  a  strap  round 
the  horse's  fore  leg,  so  as  to  make  him 
limp  on  three  legs  and  finally  kneel. 
When  the  second  strap  was  attached,  a 
struggle  ensued,  which  ended  in  the  ani- 
mal's lying  down,  and  here  the  art  of  Mr. 
Rarey,  in  its  perfect  adaptedness  to  the 
end  sought,  was  made  apparent. 

Next  in  course  was  a  wild  horse  from 
South  America,  which  threw  Mr.  Rarey 
several  times,  plunging,  rearing,  and  bit- 
ing with  rage  and  fury.  On  his  leg,  too, 
Mr.  Rarey  attached  the  fatal  strap,  and, 
after  a  prolonged  struggle,  the  animal  was 
thrown,  and  his  conquerer  was  upon  him. 
After  rising  up  and  sitting  down  again  on 
the  horse's  back  several  times,  in  order  to 
accustom  the  horse  to  the  sensation,  Mr. 
Rarey  raised  him  up,  and,  addressing  the 
audience  from  the  animal's  back,  said : 
"It  is  entirely  wrong  to  leap  upon  a 
horse's  back  and  hold  fast,  no  matter  how 
frightened  he  may  be.  There  is  now  a 
perfect  understanding  between  us.  All 


horses  like  me  after  this  process.  They 
all  come  to  me  gladly.  This  is  the  test  of 
breaking :  If  they  fly  away  from  you,  then 
know  you  have  treated  them  badly ;  if 
they  come  to  you,  they  know  you  are  a 
friend."  No  better  illustration  of  the 
truth  of  these  remarks  was  needed  than  the 
case  then  in  hand. 

Perhaps  the  most  brilliant  and  magnifi- 
cent reception  ever  accorded  in  Europe  to 
a  private,  untitled  American,  was  on  the 
occasion  of  Mr.  Rarey's  performances  in 
London,  when  there  were  present  the 
Queen,  Prince  Albert,  the  princess  royal, 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  Prince  Alfred,  and 
other  members  of  the  royal  famity,  with 
the  ladies  of  the  court  and  most  of  the 
foreign  princes  and  distinguished  visitors 
then  in  the  metropolis,  including  Prince 
Frederick  William  of  Prussia,  the  prince 
of  Prussia ;  the  Princes  Frederick  Charles, 
Albert,  Frederick  Albert,  and  Adelbert,  of 
Prussia;  Prince  Hohenzollern  Sigmarin- 
gen,  the  Duke  of  Saxe  Coburg  and  Gotha, 
the  Duke  of  Brabant,  the  Count  of  Flan- 
ders, Prince  William  of  Baden,  Prince 
Edward  of  Saxe  Weimer,  and  Prince  Jul- 
ius of  Holstein  Glucksburg.  The  Duke 
of  Wellington,  Major-General  Sir  Richard 
Airey,  Lord  Paget,  and  countless  other 
dignitaries  were  also  present. 

The  subjects  on  which  Mr.  Rarey  oper- 
ated were  decided  cases.  One  was  a  fine- 
spirited  black  horse,  of  high  nervous  tem- 
perament, which  had  been  returned  to  Mr. 
Anderson,  of  Picadilly,  of  whom  he  had 
been  bought  for  a  large  sum  of  money,  oa 
the  ground  of  his  being  all  but  unmanage- 
able. At  the  first  private  interview  of 
Mr.  Rarey  with  this  horse,  the  animal  was 
placed  in  a  loose  box,  which  Mr.  Rarey 
entered,  cracking  a  whip.  Startled  by 
this  unusual  exhibition  of  violence,  the 
horse  struck  out  with  both  his  hind  legs, 
and  uttered  a  kind  of  savage  yell.  The 
company  who  had  assembled  to  witness 
the  experiment  were  then  asked  to  with- 
draw, and  Mr.  Rarey  was  left  alone  with 
the  horse.  On  being  called  in  again,  in 
less  than  quarter  of  an  hour,  they  were 
amazed  to  find  the  animal  prostrate  on  his 


RAREY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


513 


side  among  the  straw  in  the  stall,  with 
his  head  slightly  raised,  and  Mr.  Rarey, 
whom  lie  was  eyeing  without  the  slightest 
symptom  of  alarm,  lying  beside  him.  Mr. 
Rarey  remained  with  him  in  this  position 
for  some  time,  during  which  he  knocked 
the  horse's  fore  and  hind  hoofs  together, 
made  a  pillow  of  his  thighs,  and  finally  got 
up  and  ran  a  heavy  wheelbarrow  up  to  and 
around  the  still  prostrate  creature,  without 
producing  in  him  the  slightest  sensation 
of  fear.  Subsequently,  the  mastery  of 
Mr.  Rarey  became  so  complete  over  this 
horse,  that,  when  laid  on  his  side  in  a 
loose  box,  a  plank  was  placed  against  his 
shoulder  in  sight  of  the  horse,  and  a  bar- 
row run  up  it.  He  never  moved.  A 
drum  was  also  beaten  on  his  back,  and  an 
umbrella  opened  in  his  very  face  ;  but  he 
remained  stock  still,  and  evinced  no  sign 
of  apprehension. 

The  next  subject  on  which  Mr.  Rarey 
experimented  was  a  young  unbroken  colt, 
brought  from  Prince  Albert's  farm,  and 
which  had  never  been  handled  in  any 
way.  This  colt  was  led  into  the  arena  in 
halter,  and,  after  being  left  alone  with  the 
horse-tamer  a  few  minutes,  the  company 
saw,  as  in  the  former  case,  this  wild  colt 
lying  on  the  ground,  and  the  horse-tamer 
by  his  side,  who  sat  upon  him  and  handled 
his  legs,  feet,  and  every  other  part  by 
turns, — a  process  during  which  the  creat- 
ure remained  as  gentle  and  passive  as  a 
child. 

After  Mr.  Rarey  had  parted  with  the 
colt,  a  handsome  bay-charger,  belonging  to 
Prince  Albert,  was  brought  forward.  This 
horse  was  one  of  high  spirit,  which  had 
always  shown  great  restlessness  while  be- 
ing mounted  and  a  constant  tendency  to 
take  fright,  and,  it  was  thought,  would 
thoroughly  defy  all  of  Mr.  Rarey 's  at- 
tempts to  tame  him.  In  a  short  time, 
however,  the  horse-tamer  had  him  down 
also,  as  submissive  as  all  the  rest,  and  was 
seen  crawling  among  his  legs,  sitting  upon 
his  shoulders  and  hips,  and  knocking  his 
hoofs  together.  Then,  bidding  the  horse 
rise,  which  he  did  instantly,  Mr.  Rarey 
jumped  upon  his  back,  and  held  by  turns 

33 


an  umbrella  over  his  head  and  beat  a  tat- 
too on  a  drum,  the  hitherto  proud,  restless 
animal,  now  owning  subjection  to  a  new 
master,  remaining  the  while  almost  as 
motionless  as  a  statue. 

All  these  remarkable  feats  were  watched 
throughout  with  the  most  intense  interest 
— the  Queen,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
moment,  herself  rapturously  applauding 
with  her  own  hands,  and  the  whole  com- 
pany joining  in  prolonged  demonstrations 
of  astonishment  and  delight. 

In  Paris,  Mr.  Rarey's  method  produced 
unbounded  excitement.  In  order  to  put 
the  system  to  a  vigorous  test,  the  emperor 
caused  to  be  purchased,  at  Caen,  a  four- 
year-old  horse,  by  "Tipple  Cider,"  noted 
for  its  violence,  and  for  kicking  furiously 
whenever  an  attempt  was  made  to  put  a 
crupper  on  it.  In  the  space  of  four  days, 
this  horse  was  as  docile  with  the  saddle 
and  the  harness  as  could  be  desired,  and 
he  allowed  a  whip  to  be  cracked  about  his 
head,  and  a  drum  to  be  beaten  on  his  back, 
without  any  manifestation  of  fear. 

Another  most  notable  case  was  that  of  a 
stallion  belonging  to  the  government,  and 
which  was  so  untamable,  so  vicious,  so 
furious,  in  fact,  that  a  resolution  had  been 
adopted  to  kill  it.  The  animal  was  lent 
for  the  purpose  by  M.  de  Baylen,  and  as 
many  as  three  hundred  members  of  the 
Jockey  and  other  clubs  assembled  to  see 
what  Mr.  Rarey  could  do  with  him.  In 
company  with  this  horse,  which  arrived 
with  a  noose-band  on,  and  muzzled,  and 
led  by  two  men,  Mr.  Rarey  fastened  him- 
self up  in  a  stall,  and,  in  an  hour  after,  he 
came  out  mounted  on  its  back.  Although 
the  horse  had  always  previously  bitten  the 
legs  of  everyone  who  mounted  him,  he  was 
then  perfectly  quiet ;  and  though  the  very 
sight  of  a  whip  was  accustomed  to  put  it 
in  a  fury,  it  received  a  correction  as  qui- 
etly as  the  best  broken-in  horse  would 
have  done.  The  members  of  the  Jockey 
Club  were  astonished  at  what  they  wit- 
nessed, and  broke  out  into  loud  acclama- 
tions of  admiration,  after  which  they 
gathered  round  Mr.  Rarey  to  compliment 
him. 


514 


KAEEY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


In  London,  again,  Mr.  Earey  tested  his 
skill  successfully,  in  the  space  of  an  hour, 
on  a  famous  bay  mare,  long  pronounced 
incurable — who  was  so  dangerous  to  ap- 
proach in  any  way  that  she  could  not  be 
ridden,  would  strike  with  her  fore  feet  like 
a  pugilist,  and  kick  as  well  with  her  hind 
feet.  So  savage  was  she,  that  no  horse- 
man had  been  able  to  ascertain  her  age  by 
looking  at  her  teeth ;  yet  Mr.  Earey  not 
only  opened  her  mouth,  but  put  his  hand 
into  it  several  times,  and  told  his  audi- 
ence that,  in  his  opinion,  she  was  eight 
years  old.  Great  cheers  followed  this  tri- 
umph of  skill,  but  it  was  to  be  still 


vast  audience — who  sat  in  silence  and  sur- 
prise almost  approaching  to  awe  —  was 
greeted  at  its  close  with  rounds  of  ap- 
plause, and  Mr.  Earey  was  tumultuously 
called  for  twice  to  receive  an  ovation  of 
cheers. 

Visiting  Eussia,  a  special  exhibition 
was  given,  by  request,  before  the  emperor 
and  his  court.  All  etiquette  was  laid 
aside  by  the  royal  spectators — the  em- 
peror, and  empress,  and  all  present,  enter- 
ing into  the  humors  of  the  evening  with  a 
hearty  abandonment,  not  only  deeply  grat- 
ified at  the  novelty  of  the  entertainment, 
but  also  with  the  privilege  of  giving  vent 


MR.    RAREY  EXHIBITING   HIS  CELEBRATED  METHOD  OF  TAMING   HORSES. 


further  demonstrated  on  a  thorough-bred, 
high-spirited  Arabian  stallion,  extremely 
vicious,  perfectly  uncontrollable,  biting  at 
every  one  that  approached  him,  and  that 
would  not  suffer  himself  to  be  bridled  ex- 
cept blindfolded.  On  his  arrival  on  this 
occasion,  at  the  railway  station,  he  knocked 
down  his  groom  by  kicking  him  on  the 
head ;  and  on  being  taken  into  the  ring, 
nearly  broke  the  arm  of  the  man  who  led 
him  in,  by  striking  him  with  his  fore  feet. 
Mr.  Earey,  notwithstanding,  succeeded 
after  a  desperate  struggle,  which  lasted 
for  about  an  hour,  in  rendering  him  as 
tractable  as  a  lamb.  This  feat,  which  was 
witnessed  throughout  by  the  whole  of  the 


to  their  natural  feelings.  That  nothing 
might  be  wanting  to  fulfill  the  object  of 
the  exhibition,  the  emperor  had  shrewdly 
availed  himself  of  his  varied  resources,  in 
in  procuring  such  an  animal  as  would  test 
Mr.  Earey's  powers  to  the  greatest  extent 
— the  Eussian  wilds  affording,  as  is  well 
known,  fearful  specimens  of  untutored  and 
savage  horse  life.  At  a  certain  signal, 
therefore,  a  perfectly  wild  brute  from  the 
Steppes  was  brought  into  the  arena,  and 
for  the  first  time  introduced  to  Mr.  Earey's 
notice.  Two  peasants,  themselves  semi- 
barbarous,  awed  by  the  presence  of  the 
emperor,  and  filled  with  intense  fear  by 
the  plunging  and  rearing  of  the  horse  in 


RAREY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


515 


their  charge,  with  difficulty  restrained  him 
from  breaking  away,  biting  their  flesh, 
or  knocking  their  brains  out  with  his 
heels,  which  at  times  cleaved  the  air  with 
fearful  velocity,  for  the  infuriated  animal, 
in  the  insanity  of  his  captivity,  absolutely 
bit  at  interposing  objects  as  if  he  were  a 
tiger.  Mr.  Rarey,  perfectly  self-possessed, 
and  to  the  surprise  of  all  present,  boldly 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  neck,  and  then 
passed  it  gently  over  the  ears,  and  in  a 
few  moments  ordered  the  peasants  to  un- 
loose their  rigorous  hold  on  the  ropes, 
when  Mr.  Rarey  proceeded  to  further  pac- 
ify the  creature,  his  success  being  com- 
plete. The  emperor  and  the  imperial 
family  looked  on  with  amazement,  while 
the  two  peasants  were  struck  dumb  with 
awe  and  wonder — the  effect  being  height- 
ened when  the  emperor,  half  sternly  and 
half  playfully,  asked  them  "why  they 
could  not  thus  handle  the  horse  ! " 

One  of  the  worst  specimens  that  Mr. 
Rarey  had  to  deal  with  in  America,  was  a 
New  York  car-horse, — a  very  bad  kicker, 
striking  with  her  fore  feet,  allowing  no 
one  to  approach  her  in  her  stable,  very 
treacherous,  and  giving  no  warning.  When 
the  horse  appeared  upon  the  stage,  it 
was  pronounced  a  tough-looking  customer 
enough, — thin,  wiry,  dirty,  stubborn,  vic- 
ious, evil-eyed.  It  had  not  been  shod 
except  with  all  its  feet  tied,  and  then  with 
difficulty.  Every  time  Mr.  Rarey  touched 
it,  the  horse  kicked  most  savagely.  First 
one  little  strap  was  tied  on,  however,  and 
then  another.  The  horse  fell  easily,  as  it 
had  been  used  to  be  thrown  thus  to  be 
shod.  But,  when  the  straps  were  taken 
off,  and  Rarey  began  his  familiarities,  then 
caine  the  tug  of  war.  It  was  kick  and 
bite,  soothe  and  fondle,  get  up  and  fall 
down,  until  at  last  the  struggling  beast 
completely  succumbed  to  the  tamer's 
kindness.  Mr.  Rarey's  head  lay  be- 
tween those  formidable  hoofs;  his  hand 
unloosed  the  bridle  which  had  not  been 
removed  for  months;  he  played  black- 
smith, too,  hammering  at  the  shoe  without 
any  difficulty,  and  curing  the  last  bit  of 
res  lessness  by  turning  the  horse  round 


and  round  awhile.  Mr.  Rarey  led  off  the 
subdued  old  equine  hag  with  as  much  com- 
placency as  if  biting  and  kicking  had 
never  been  known.  The  astonishment  of 
the  owner,  who  knew  the  horse  so  well, 
only  outran  that  of  the  audience. 

The  theory  proclaimed  by  Mr.  Rarey, 
in  his  lectures  and  performances,  was,  that 
hitherto  the  mode  of  treating  this  noble 
animal — at  least  in  the  preliminary  stages 
of  breaking,  etc., — had  proceeded  on  ideas 
of  his  nature  altogether  erroneous  and 
cruel,  and  been  invariably  characterized 
by  unnecessary  violence,  provoking  the 
display  of  resistance  and  other  kindred 
qualities  on  his  part,  and  so  the  evil  has 
been  perpetuated.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  principle  advocated  by  Mr.  Rarey  and 
constituting  the  key  to  his  success — that  of 
extreme  kindness  and  tenderness, — con- 
vinces the  animal  that  man  is  his  natural 
master  and  friend,  and  elicits  his  confi- 
dence and  kindly  regard.  Appealing  to 
"  the  intellect  and  affections  of  the  horse," 
as  the  basis  of  his  system  of  treatment, 
Mr.  Rarey  was  enabled  to  say,  to  his  vast 
and  admiring  audience  at  Niblo's  Garden, 
New  York : 

"I  have  never  had  an  accident  since  I 
became  perfect  in  my  system,  and  I  don't 
fear  any.  I  have  been  among  horses  since 
I  was  twelve  years  old,  and  at  first  had  a 
great  many  accidents.  Every  limb  hag 
been  broken,  except  my  right  arm ;  but  be- 
ing young,  when  these  accidents  happened, 
the  bones  fortunately  healed  strongly. 
Now  I  know  horses'  every  thought,  and 
can  break  any  animal,  of  whatever  age 
and  habits,  in  the  world.  I  can  make  any 
animal  sensible  of  my  power — make  him 
gentle  and  even  affectionate." 

The  mechanical  process  employed  in 
this  system,  as  described,  consists  in  fast- 
ening  one  fore  leg  by  a  strap — first  allow- 
ing the  horse  to  see  and  smell  it — passed 
around  the  pastern  and  buckled  close  t« 
the  forearm.  Another  strap  is  then  fast* 
ened  to  the  pastern  of  the  other  fore  leg, 
and  is  either  passed  under  a  belt,  previ- 
ously buckled  about  the  horse's  body,  and 
its  end  held  in  one  hand,  or  it  may  be  held 


516 


RAREY'S  FEATS  OF  HORSE-TAMING. 


over  his  back.  The  horse  is  then  gently 
urged  forward,  and  as  he  raises  his  free 
fore  foot  to  step,  it  is  pulled  from  under 
him  by  the  operator.  This  brings  him 
upon  his  knees.  A  struggle  ensues,  in 
which  the  man  is  sure  to  be  the  victor. 
Next,  by  a  sufficient  pressure,  the  horse  is 
thrown  upon  his  side  and  lies  helpless. 
The  operator  then  soothes  him  with  the 
hand  and  voice,  removes  the  straps,  and 
after  a  short  period  allows  him  to  rise. 
A  single  application  is  generally  sufficient. 
Mr.  Rarey's  cool,  quiet,  quick  move- 
ments, his  calm,  fine,  firm  voice,  gave  to 
his  presence  a  peculiar  magnetism  and 
contributed  greatly  to  his  power  over  the 
horse  ;  so  that,  in  this  respect,  he  achieved 
a  world-wide  reputation,  without  a  peer  or 
rival  to  divide  his  fame.  The  courage  and 
self-possession  exhibited  by  him  were  ex- 
traordinary,— a  patience,  too,  that  nothing 
could  wear  out,  and  a  temper  that  nothing 
could  ruffle.  Never  in  a  hurry,  he  went 
through  his  work  in  a  way  that  showed  it 
to  be,  to  him,  a  labor  of  love.  1'here  was 


no  mystery,  no  charm,  no  drugs,  employed 
by  him  in  his  performances.  He  ex- 
plained everything  he  was  about  to  do, 
and  gave  a  reason  for  it;  and  then,  by 
doing  it,  successfully  proved  that  his  rea- 
soning was  correct.  At  the  end  of  the 
performance,  the  horse  would  walk  quietly 
about  without  the  slightest  appearance  of 
excitement  or  fatigue.  But,  while  thus 
sparing  the  horse,  Mr.  Rarey  evidently 
took  an  immensity  of  work  out  of  himself, 
seemingly  undergoing  a  sustained  mental 
strain,  in  order  that  the  horse,  whose 
instinct  is  so  sharp,  might  not  see  the 
slightest  faltering  in  his  proceedings. 
His  system,  a  slow  and  gentle,  but  irre- 
sistible pressure,  aimed  not  to  crush,  but 
to  subdue,  and,  to  this  end,  perfect  self- 
control  was  indispensable.  If,  therefore, 
at  the  most  critical  moment,  he  required 
a  riding-whip  or  a  pocket  handkerchief,  he 
called  for  it  as  coolly  as  one  would  for  a 
glass  of  lemonade,  or  as  Nelson  called  for 
the  sealing-wax  during  the  bombardment 
of  Copenhagen, 


LX1II. 


BATTLE  AT    BULL  RUN,  VA.,  BETWEEN    THE    FEDERAL 
AND  CONFEDERATE  ARMIES.— 1861. 


First  Important  Engagement  in  the  Great  Civil  War. — Severe  Fighting  for  Many  Hours. — Most  Disas- 
trous Defeat  of  the  Federal  Troops. — Their  Uncontrollable  Panic  and  Headlong  Flight. — The  South 
Jubilant. — Gloom  and  Humiliation  of  the  Loyal  States. — Three  Months  Since  Sumter  Fell. — Armies 
Massed  at  Washington  and  Richmond. — Threats  Against  the  Federal  Capital. — Irritation  and  Impa- 
tience of  the  North. — "On  to  Richmond!"  the  Union  War- Cry. — March  of  McDowell's  Army. — 
Plan  of  the  Movement — Rousing  the  Southern  Forces. — Their  Unexpected  Strength. — Uncertain 
Fate  of  the  Day. — Re-enforcement  for  Confederates. — Davis's  Arrival  on  the  Ground — He  Exclaims, 
"Onward,  My  Brave  Comrades!" — Their  Wild  Enthusiasm. — A  Lost  Battle  for  the  Union. — Com- 
plete  Demoralization. — Three  Miles  of  Scattered  Troops. — Arms,  Stores,  etc  ,  Flung  Away — Dis- 
tressing Sights  and  Sounds. — Thanksgiving  Appointed  by  Davis. — Te  Deums  Sung  in  the  Southern 
Churches. — Lessons  Taught  by  this  Battle. 


"The sainted  patriots  cry,  "  IT  CAKWOT  BB!" 

From  heaven  thev  speak,  and  from  their  graves  reveredi 

The  God  whci  yuve  them  victory  will  not  tee 

The  temple  shuttered  which  their  toil  hju  reaiedl '' 


MONUMENT  OS  THE   BATTLE-FIELD. 


ORE  than  three  months  had  passed  since  the  cap 
ture  of  Fort  Sumter,  and,  during  this  exciting 
period,  throughout  the  country,  the  great  contend- 
ing parties  had  massed,  respectively,  immense  bodies 
of  troops  at  Washington  and  Richmond,  and  their 
vicinities.  So  deep  was  the  indignation  felt  by  the 
upholders  of  the  national  cause,  at  the  fall  of  Sum- 
ter, and  at  the  various  hostile  movements  and  expe- 
ditions by  the  confederates  which  followed  that 
event, — such  as  the  fearless  assault  made  upon  the 
federal  soldiers  while  passing  through  Baltimore, 
the  destruction  of  railroads  and  telegraphs,  the 
seizure  of  Northerners'  property  at  the  South,  the 
loss  of  the  Norfolk  navy  yard,  the  rout  at  and  the 
defiant  threats  of  an  advance  on  Washington, — that 
the  cry  of  "  On  to  Richmond,"  into  which  city  the 
confederate  forces  had  poured  from  every  part  of 
the  South,  both  for  defensive  and  aggressive  opera- 
tions, was  heard  on  every  side.  Indeed,  the  pa- 
tience of  the  North  had  become  strained  to  its 
utmost  tension  toward  those  whose  alleged  official 
inactivity  or  tardiness  was  the  assumed  cause  of  the 
insurgent  army  not  having  been,  long  since,  scat- 
tered and  destroyed. 


oJ8 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


There  were  of  course  those  who  did  not 
share  this  impetuosity, — knowing  well  the 
capacities  of  defense  peculiar  to  Richmond 
and  its  approaches,  and  keenly  comprehend- 
ing the  disastrous  effect  upon  the  loyal 
states  of  a  lost  battle  in  the  open  field, 
immediately  after  the  siege  and  reduction 
of  Sumter.  * 

To  the  pressure,  however,  of  this  almost 
universal  demand  for  an  "onward  move- 
ment," General  Scott  at  last  yielded,  and, 
on  the  21st  of  July,  18G1,  the  first  really 
important  engagement  between  the  union 
and  confederate  forces  took  place  on  the 
hanks  of  a  stream  called  Bull  Run,  a  few 
miles  to  the  north-west  of  Manassas  Junc- 
tion, Va.,  and  about  thirty  miles  south  of 
the  Potomac  at  Washington.  It  was  on 
the  16th  of  July,  that  the  union  army, 
commanded  by  General  McDowell,  and 
officered  by  Generals  Tyler,  Hunter, 
Richardson,  Heintzelman,  Patterson,  and 
Miles,  commenced  its  march,  the  whole 
number  of  men  being  some  forty-five  thou- 
sand. The  confederate  force  which  they 
were  soon  to  encounter,  was  much  larger, 
and  consisted  of  the  division  of  General 
Beauregard,  intrenched  at  Mauassas  Junc- 
tion, re-enforced  by  the  division  under 
General  Johnston,  previously  stationed  at 
Winchester,  in  the  valley  of  the  Shenan- 
doah,  and  a  large  body  of  reserves  advanced 
from  Richmond  and  Aquia  Creek. 

On  the  17th,  the  union  army,  in  three 
columns,  continued  their  line  of  march, 
the  advance  column  occupying  Fairfax 
Court  House  about  one  hour  before  noon, 
the  confederates  withdrawing  as  the  union- 
ists advanced.  The  cavalry  pushed  on  to 
Centreville ;  and,  on  the  18th,  the  army 
took  up  its  march  for  the  same  place.  The 
advance,  to  this  date,  had  been  steadily 
made  on  all  sides,  and  the  reported  posi- 
tions of  the  troops  considered  good  at  head- 
quarters. In  the  afternoon,  an  engage- 
ment took  place  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  But 
the  character  of  this  conflict,  as  well  as  the 
general  plan  of  the  whole  movement,  will  be 
best  understood  by  presenting  here  the  im- 
portant portion  of  General  McDowell's  offi- 
cial report,  or  an  abstract  of  the  same. 


On  the  evening  of  July  20th,  McDow- 
ell's command  was  mostly  at  or  near  Cen- 
treville, and  the  confederate  forces  at  or 
near  Manassas,  about  seven  miles  to  the 
south-west.  Centreville  is  a  place  of  a  few 
houses,  mostly  on  the  west  side  of  a  ridge 
running  nearly  north  and  south.  The 
road  from  Centreville  to  Manassas  Junc- 
tion is  along  this  ridge,  crossing  Bull  Run 
about  three  miles  from  the  former  place. 
The  Warrenton  turnpike,  which  runs 
nearly  east  and  west,  goes  over  this  ridge, 
through  the  village,  and  crosses  Bull  Run 
about  four  miles  from  it,  Bull  Run  having 
a  course  between  the  crossing  from  north- 
west to  south-east.  The  first  division, 
Tyler's,  was  stationed  on  the  north  side  of 
the  Warrenton  turnpike,  and  on  the  east- 
ern slope  of  the  Centreville  ridge,  two 
brigades  on  the  same  road,  and  a  mile  and 
a  half  in  advance,  to  the  west  of  the  ridge, 
and  one  brigade  on  the  road  from  Centre- 
ville to  Manassas,  where  it  crosses  Bull 
Run  at  Blackburn's  Ford.  The  second 
division,  Hunter's,  was  on  the  Warrenton 
turnpike,  one  mile  east  of  Centreville. 
The  third  division,  Heintzelman's,  was  on 
a  road  known  as  the  Old  Braddock  road, 
which  comes  into  Centreville  from  the 
south-east,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  village.  The  fifth  division,  Miles's, 
was  on  the  same  road  with  the  third  divis- 
ion, and  between  it  and  Centreville. 

The  fight  at  Blackburn's  Ford,  on  the 
18th,  showed  that  the  confederates  were 
too  strong  at  that  point  for  the  unionists 
to  force  a  passage  there  without  great  loss, 
and,  from  all  the  information  that  could  be 
obtained,  McDowell  found  that  his  only 
alternative  was  to  turn  the  extreme  left  of 
the  confederate  position.  Reliable  infor- 
mation was  also  obtained  of  an  undefended 
ford  about  three  miles  above  the  bridge, 
there  being  another  ford  between  it  and 
the  bridge,  which  was  defended.  It  was 
therefore  determined  to  take  the  road  to 
the  upper  ford,  and,  after  crossing,  to  get 
behind  the  forces  guarding  the  lower  ford 
and  the  bridge,  and  after  occupying  the 
Warrenton  road  east  of  the  bridge,  to  send 
out  a  force  to  destroy  the  railroad  at  or 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


519 


near  Gainesville,  and  thus  break  up  the 
communication  between  the  confederate 
forces  at  Manassas  and  those  in  the  valley 
of  Virginia,  before  Winchester,  which  had 
been  held  in  check  by  Major-General  Pat- 
terson. Brigadier-General  Tyler  had  been 
directed  to  move  with  three  of  his  brigades 
on  the  Warrentori  road,  and  commence 
cannonading  the  enemy's  batteries,  while 
Hunter's  division,  moving  after  him, 
should,  after  passing  a  little  stream  called 
Cub  Run,  turn  to  the  right  and  north,  and 
move  around  to  the  upper  ford,  and  there 
turn  south  and  get  behind  the  enemy. 
Heintzelman's  division  was  to  follow  Hun- 
ter's as  far  as  the  turning  off  place  to  the 
lower  ford,  where  he  was  to  cross  after  the 
enemy  should  have  been  driven  out  by 


Hunter's  division ;  the  fifth  division, 
Miles's,  to  be  in  reserve  on  the  Centreville 
ridge.  The  fourth  division,  Runyon's, 
had  not  been  brought  to  the  front  farther 
than  to  guard  the  federal  communications 
by  way  of  Vienna  and  the  Orange  and 
Alexandria  railroad. 

The  divisions,  says  General  McDowell, 
were  ordered  to  march  at  half-past  two 
o'clock,  A.  M.,  so  as  to  arrive  on  the  ground 
early  in  the  day,  and  thus  avoid  the  heat. 
There  was  delay  in  the  first  division  get- 
ting out  of  its  camp  on  the  road,  and  the 
other  divisions  were  in  consequence  be- 


tween two  and  three  hours  behind  the  time 
appointed — a  great  misfortune,  as  events 
turned   out.      General  Tyler   commenced 
with  his  artillery  at  half-past  six  A.  M., 
but  the  enemy  did  not  reply,  and  after 
some  time  it  became  a  question  whether  he 
was  in  any  force  in  our  front,  and  if  he  did 
not  intend  himself  to  make  an  attack,  and 
make  it  by  Blackburn's  Ford.    After  firing 
several  times,  and  obtaining  no  response,  I 
held,  (says  this  officer,)  one  of  Heintzel- 
man's brigades  in  reserve,  in  case  we  should 
have  to  send  any  troops  back  to  re-enforce 
Miles's    division.       The    other    brigades 
moved  forward  as  directed  in  the  general 
orders.     On  reaching  the  ford,  at  Sudley's 
Spring,  I  found  part  of  the  leading  brig- 
ade of  Hunter's  division,  Burnside's,  had 
crossed,  but  the  men  were    slow  in 
getting  over,  stopping  to  drink.     As 
at  this  time  the  clouds  of  dust  from 
the  direction  of  Manassas  indicated 
the   immediate  approach  of   a   large 
force,    and   fearing    it   might    come 
down  on  the  head  of  the  column  be- 
fore the  division  could  all  get  over 
and  sustain  it,  orders  were  sent  back 
to  the  heads  of  regiments  to  break 
from  the  column  and  come  forward 
separately  as  fast  as  possible.    Orders 
were  sent  by  an  officer  to  the  reserve 
brigade  of  Heintzelman's  division  to 
come  by   a  nearer   road   across   the 
fields,  and  an  aid-de-camp  was  sent  to 
Tyler  to  direct  him  to  press  forward 
his   attack,  as   large    bodies   of    the 
enemy  were  passing  in  front  of  him 
to  attack  the  division  which  had  crossed 
over.      The  ground   between   the  stream 
and    the     road    leading     from    Sudley's 
Spring  south  and  over  which  Burnside's 
brigade  marched,  was  for   about   a   mile 
from  the   ford  thickly  wooded,  whilst  on 
the  right  of  the  road,  for  about  the  same 
distance,  the  country  was  divided  between 
fields  and  woods.     About  a  mile  from  the 
road,  the   country  on  both    sides  of    the 
road   is    open,    and,   for    nearly    a    mile 
further,  large  rolling  fields  extend  down 
to  the  Warrenton  turnpike,  which  crosses 
what  became  the  field  of  battle,  through 


520 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


the  valley  of  a  small  water  course,  a  tribu- 
tary of  Bull  Itiui. 

Concerning  the  general  action,  the  offi- 
cial report  says  :  Shortly  after  the  leading 
regiment  of  the  first  brigade  reached  the 
open  space,  and  whilst  others  and  the 
second  brigade  were  crossing  to  the  front 
and  right,  the  enemy  opened  his  fire, 
beginning  with  artillery  and  following  up 
with  infantry.  The  leading  brigade,  Burn- 
side's,  had  to  sustain  this  shock  for  a  short 
time  without  support,  and  did  it  well. 
The  battalion  of  regular  infantry  was  sent 
to  sustain  it,  and  shortly  afterwards  the 
other  corps  of  Porter's  brigade,  and  a  reg- 
iment detached  from  Heintzelman's  divis- 
ion to  the  left,  forced  the  enemy  back  far 
enough  to  allow  Sherman's  and  Reyes's 
brigades  of  Tyler's  division  to  cross  from 
their  position  on  the  Warrenton  road. 
These  drove  the  right  of  the  enemy  from 
the  front  of  the  field,  and  out  of  the  de- 
tached woods,  and  down  to  the  road,  and 
across  it  up  the  slopes  on  the  other  side. 
Whilst  this  was  going  on,  Heintzelman's 
division  was  moving  down  the  field  to  the 
stream,  and  up  the  road  beyond.  Beyond 
the  Warrenton  road,  and  to  the  left  of  the 
road,  down  which  our  troops  had  marched 
from  Sudley's  Spring,  is  a  hill  with  a 
farmhouse  on  it.  Behind  this  hill,  the 
enemy  had,  early  in  the  day,  some  of  his 
most  annoying  batteries  planted.  Across 
the  road  from  this  hill  was  another  hill, 
and  the  hottest  part  of  the  contest  was  for 
the  possession  of  this  hill  with  a  house  on 
it.  The  force  engaged  here  was  Heintzel- 
man's division,  Wilcox's  and  Howard's 
brigades  on  the  right,  supported  by  part 
of  Porter's  brigade  and  the  cavalry  under 
Palmer,  and  Franklin's  brigade  of  Heint- 
zelman's division,  Sherman's  brigade  of 
Tyler's  division  in  the  center  and  up  the 
road,  whilst  Keyes's  brigade  of  Tyler's 
division  was  on  the  left,  attacking  the  bat- 
teries near  the  stone  bridge.  The  Rhode 
Island  battery  of  Burnside's  brigade  also 
participated  in  this  attack  by  its  fire  from 
the  north  of  the  turnpike.  Rickett's  bat- 
tery, which  did  such  effective  service  and 
nlayed  so  brilliant  a  part  iu.  this  contest, 


was,  together  with  Griffin's  battery,  on  the 
side  of  the  hill,  and  became  the  object  of 
the  enemy's  special  attention,  who  suc- 
ceeded— our  officers  mistaking  one  of  his 
regiments  for  one  of  our  own,  and  allowing 
it  to  approach  without  firing  upon  it — in 
disabling  the  battery,  and  then  attempted 
to  take  it.  Three  times  was  he  repulsed 
by  different  corps  in  succession,  and 
driven  back,  and  the  guns  taken  by  hand, 
the  horses  being  killed,  and  pulled  away. 
The  third  time  it  was  supposed  by  all  that 
the  repulse  was  final,  for  he  was  driven 
entirely  from  the  hill,  and  so  far  beyond 
it  as  not  to  be  in  sight,  and  all  were  cer- 
tain the  day  was  ours.  He  had  before  this 
been  driven  nearly  a  mile  and  a  half,  and 
was  beyond  the  Warrenton  road,  which 
was  entirely  in  our  possession  from  the 
stone  bridge  westward,  and  our  engineers 
were  just  completing  the  removal  of  the 
abattis  across  the  road,  to  allow  our  re-en- 
forcements— Schenck's  brigade  and  Ayers'c 
battery — to  join  us. 

After  describing  the  condition  of  the 
confederate  army  at  this  time  as  disheart- 
ened and  broken,  General  McDowell  ex- 
plains some  of  the  causes  that  led  to  the 
disastrous  fate  which  befell  the  federal 
army.  They  had  been  fighting  since  half- 
past  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  it  was 
after  three  in  the  afternoon.  The  men  had 
been  up  since  two  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  had  made  what  to  those  unused  to 
such  things  seemed  a  long  march  before 
coming  into  action,  though  the  longest 
distance  gone  over  was  not  more  than  nine 
and  a  half  miles ;  and  though  they  had 
three  days'  provisions  served  out  to  them 
the  day  before,  many  no  doubt  either  did 
not  eat  them,  or  threw  them  away  on  the 
march  or  during  the  battle,  and  were 
therefore  -without  food.  They  had  done 
much  severe  fighting.  Some  of  the  regi- 
ments which  had  been  driven  from  the 
hill  in  the  first  two  attempts  of  the  enemy 
to  get  possession  of  it  had  become  shaken, 
were  unsteady,  and  had  many  men  out  of 
the  ranks. 

It  was  at  this  time,  says  McDowell, 
that  the  enemy's  re-enforcements  came  to 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA, 


521 


his  aid  from  the  railroad  train.  Tlwy 
threw  themselves  iu  the  woods  ou  our 
right  and  towards  the  rear  of  our  right, 
and  opened  a  fire  of  musketry  on  our  men, 
which  caused  them  to  break  arid  retire 
down  the  hillside.  This  soon  degenerated 
into  disorder,  for  which  there  was  no  rem- 
edy. Every  effort  was  made  to  rally  them, 
even  beyond  the  reach  of  the  enemy's  fire, 
but  in  vain.  The  battalion  of  regular 
infantry  alone  moved  up  the  hiJl  opposite 
to  the  one  with  the  house  on  it,  and  there 
maintained  itself  until  our  men  could  get 
down  to  and  across  the  Warrenton  turn- 
pike, on  the  way  back  tj  the  position  we 
occupied  in  the  morning.  The  plain  was 
covered  with  the  retreating  troops,  and 


they  seemed  to  infect  those  with  whom 
they  came  in  contact.  The  retreat  soon 
became  a  rout,  and  this  soon  degenerated 
into  a  panic.  Finding  this  state  of  affairs 
was  beyond  the  efforts  of  all  those  who 
had  assisted  so  faithfully  during  the  long 
and  hard  day's  work  in  gaining  almost  the 
object  of  their  wishes,  and  that  nothing 
remained  on  the  field  but  to  recognize 
what  could  no  longer  be  prevented,  Gen- 
eral McDowell  gave  the  necessary  orders 
to  protect  their  withdrawal,  begging  the 
men  to  form  in  line,  and  after  the  appear- 
ance, at  least,  of  organization.  They  re- 
turned by  the  fords  to  the  Warrenton  road, 
protected  by  Colonel  Porter's  force  of  reg- 
ulars. Once  on  the  road,  and  the  different 
corps  coming  together  in  small  parties, 


many  without  officers,  they  became  inter- 
mingled, and  all  organization  was  lost. 

The  onset  of  that  tumultuous  retreat  is 
described  by  those  who  witnessed  it  as  ter- 
rific. For  three  miles,  hosts  of  federal 
troops — all  detached  from  their  regiments, 
all  mingled  in  one  disorderly  rout — were 
fleeing  along  the  road,  but  mostly  through 
the  lots  on  either  side.  Army  wagons, 
|  sutlers'  teams,  and  private  carriages, 
|  choked  the  passage,  tumbling  against  each 
|  other,  amid  clouds  of  dust,  and  sickening 
sights  and  sounds.  Hacks,  containing 
unlucky  spectators  of  the  battle,  were 
smashed  like  glass,  and  the  occupants  were 
lost  sight  of  in  the  debris.  Horses,  flying 
wildly  from  the  battle-field,  many  of  them 
in  death  agony,  galloped  at  random  for- 
ward, joining  in  the  stampede.  Those 
on  foot  who  could  catch  them  rode  them 
bare-back,  as  much  to  save  themselves 
from  being  run  over,  as  to  make  quicker 
time.  Wounded  men,  lying  along  the 
banks — the  few  neither  left  on  the  field 
nor  taken  to  the  captured  hospitals  — 
appealed  with  raised  hands  to  those 
who  rode  horses,  begging  to  be  lifted 
behind,  but  few  regarded  such  peti- 
tions. Then  the  artillery,  such  as  was 
saved,  came  thundering  along,  smashing 
and  overpowering  everything.  The  cav- 
alry added  to  all  these  terrors,  for  they 
rode  down  footmen  without  mercy. 
An  artilleryman  was  seen  running  between 
the  ponderous  fore  and  after  wheels  of  his 
gun-carriage,  hanging  on  with  both  hands, 
and  vainly  striving  to  jump  upon  the 
ordnance ;  but  the  drivers  were  spurring 
the  horses;  he  could  not  cling  much  longer, 
and  a  more  agonized  expression  never 
fixed  the  features  of  a  drowning  man  ;  the 
carriage  bounded  from  the  roughness  of  a 
steep  hill  leading  to  a  creek,  he  lost  his 
hold,  fell,  and  in  an  instant  the  great 
wheels  had  crushed  the  life  out  of  him. 
And  still  the  flight  continued.  It  did  not 
slack  in  the  least  until  Centreville  was 
reached.  There  the  sight  of  the  reserve 
— Miles's  brigade — formed  in  order  on  the 
hill,  seemed  somewhat  to  reassure  the  van. 
But  still  the  teams  and  foot  soldiers  pushed 


522 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


on,  passing  their  own  camps  and  heading 
swiftly  for  the  distant  Potomac,  until  for 
ten  miles  the  road  over  which  the  grand 
army  had  so  lately  marched  southward, 
gay  with  unstained  banners,  and  flushed 
with  surety  of  strength,  was  covered  with 
the  fragments  of  its  retreating  forces,  shat- 
tered and  panic-stricken  in  a  single  day. 
From  the  branch  route  the  trains  attached 
to  Hunter's  division  had  caught  the  con- 
tagion of  the  flight,  and  poured  into  its 
already  swollen  current  another  turbid 
freshet  of  confusion  and  dismay.  The 
teamsters,  many  of  them,  cut  the  traces  of 
their  horses,  and  galloped  from  their 
wagons.  Others  threw  out  their  loads  to 
accelerate  their  flight,  and  grain,  picks, 
and  shovels,  and  provisions  of  every  kind, 
lay  trampled  in  the  dust  for  leagues. 
Thousands  of  muskets  strewed  the  route, 
and  when  some  of  the  fugitives  were  ral- 
lied and  induced  to  form  into  a  line,  there 
was  hardly  one  but  had  thrown  away  his 
arms. 

Many  who  went  into  the  battle  with 
Heintzelman  and  Hunter  fled  by  the  road 
over  which  Tyler  had  advanced.  In  the 
general  race,  all  divisions  and  all  regiments 
were  mingled.  There  was  not  even  an 
attempt  to  cover  the  retreat  of  Tyler's 
division.  With  Heintzelman's  it  was  bet- 
ter ;  Lieutenant  Drummond's  cavalry 
troop  keeping  firm  line,  and  protecting  the 
artillery  until  its  abandonment  was  imper- 
atively ordered.  Regulars  and  volunteers 
shared  the  disorder  alike.  Whole  batter- 
ies were  left  upon  the  field,  and  the  cutting 
off  of  others  was  ordered  when  the  guns 
had  already  been  brought  two  miles  or 
more  from  the  battle-ground.  A  perfect 
frenzy  was  upon  almost  every  man.  Some 
cried  piteously  to  be  assisted  in  their  help- 
lessness, and  others  sought  to  clamber  into 
wagons,  the  occupants  resisting  them  with 
iayonets.  Even  the  sentiment  of  shame 
had  gone.  Some  of  the  better  men  tried 
to  withstand  the  rush,  and  cried  out 
against  the  flying  groups,  calling  them 
"  cowards,  poltroons,  brutes,"  and  reviling 
them  for  so  degrading  themselves,  espe- 
cially when  no  enemy  was  near. 


There  were,  of  course,  numerous  excep- 
tions to  the  general  spirit  of  fear  and 
frenzy.  Thus,  when  the  order  was  given 
at  head-quarters  for  retreat,  the  word  was 
passed  down  the  line  to  the  New  York 
Zouaves.  "Do  not!"  exclaimed  a  score 
of  the  "pet  lambs"  in  a  breath;  "Do 
not !  "  "  We  are  ordered  to  retreat,"  said 
the  commander,  to  his  brave  men. 
"Wot'n  thunder's  that?"  responded  one 
of  the  hard-heads,  who  evidently  did  not 
comprehend  the  word  exactly.  "  Go  back 
— retire,"  continued  the  com  mander.  "  Go 
back  —  where?"  "Leave  the  field." 
"  Leave  ?  Why,  that  ain't  what  we  come 
for.  We're  here  to  fight,"  insisted  the 
boys.  "  We  came  here  witli  one  thousand 
forty  men,"  said  the  commander ;  "  and 
there  are  now  six  hundred  left.  Fall 
back,  boys  !  "  and  the  "  lambs "  sulkily 
retired,  evidently  displeased  with  the 
order.  It  was  these  who  received  the  first 
charge  of  the  famous  Black  Horse  Guard, 
a  splendid  corps  of  cavalry,  all  the  horses 
of  which  were  coal-black.  They  came 
upon  the  Zouave  regiment  at  a  gallop,  and 
were  received  by  the  brave  firemen  upon 
their  poised  bayonets,  followed  instantly 
by  a  volley,  from  which  they  broke  and 
fled,  though  several  of  the  Zouaves  were 
cut  down  in  the  assault.  They  quickly 
returned,  with  their  forces  doubled — per- 
haps six  or  seven  hundred — and  again  they 
dashed  with  fearful  yells  upon  the  excited 
Zouaves.  This  time  they  bore  an  Ameri- 
can flag,  and  a  part  of  the  Zouaves  sup- 
posed for  an  instant  that  they  were  friends, 
whom  they  had  originally  mistaken.  The 
flag  was  quickly  thrown  down,  however, 
the  horses  dashed  upon  the  regiment,  the 
itise  was  discovered,  and  the  slaughter  com- 
menced. No  quarter,  no  halting,  no  flinch- 
ing, marked  the  rapid  and  death-dealing 
blows  of  the  men,  as  they  closed  in  upon 
each  other,  in  mutual  madness  and  despera- 
tion. The  brave  fe'lows  fell,  the  ranks  filled 
up,  the  sabers,  bowie-knives,  and  bayonets, 
glistened  in  the  sunlight,  horse  after  horse 
went  down,  platoon  after  platoon  disap- 
peared, —  the  carnage  was  dreadful,  the 
bravery  on  both  sides  unexampled. 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  KUN,  VA. 


523 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  BUN. 


Blenker's  brigade  did  heroic  service. 
Steady  and  watchful,  he  held  his  line 
throughout  the  evening,  advancing  his 
skirmishers  at  every  token  of  attack,  and 
spreading  a  sure  protection  over  the  multi- 
tudes who  fled  disordered  through  his  col- 
umns. With  three  regiments  he  stood  to 
fight  against  an  outnumbering  host  al- 
ready flushed  with  victory  and  eager  to 
complete  its  triumph.  As  the  darkness 
increased,  his  post  became  more  perilous 
and  more  honorable.  At  eleven  o'clock,  the 
attack  came  upon  the  advance  company  of 
Colonel  Stahel's  rifles,  not  in  force,  but 
from  a  body  of  cavalry  whose  successful 
passage  would  have  been  followed  by  a  full 
force,  and  the  consequent  destruction  of 
the  broken  hosts  of  the  routed  army.  But 
the  cavalry  was  driven  back,  and  never 
returned,  and  at  two  in  the  morning,  the 
great  body  of  federal  troops  having  passed 
and  found  their  road  to  safety,  the  com- 


mand was  given  to  retreat  in  order,  and 
the  brigade  fell  slowly  and  regularly  back, 
wifh  the  same  precision  as  if  on  parade. 
Over  and  over  again,  Blenker  begged  per- 
mission to  maintain  his  post,  or  even  to 
advance.  "Retreat I"  said  he  in  a  voice 
of  thunder,  to  the  messenger  from  head- 
quarters, "bring  me  the  word  to  170  on, 
sir  ! "  But  the  command  was  peremptory, 
and  he  was  left  no  alternative. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  almost  univer- 
sal lack  of  military  order  and  discipline 
characterizing  the  conduct  of  the  federal 
army,  after  being  seized  with  panic,  the 
following  is  in  point:  At  five  o'clock  P. 
M.,  the  New  York  Sixteenth  and  Thirty- 
first  regiments  being  well  in  advance 
toward  Blackburn's  ford,  were  called  upon 
to  stem  the  tide  of  the  Virginia  cavalry, 
who  were  swooping  at  the  retreating 
forces.  An  order  from  Miles,  conse- 
quently, sent  the  First  California  xegr 


L 


5-24 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


ment,  under  Colonel  Matheson  of  the  New 
York  Thirty-second,  forward  to  their  sup- 
port; but,  though  the  cavalry  was  thus 
turned  to  the  right  about,  it  was  found 
impossible  to  withstand  the  mad  career  of 
the  extraordinary  mass  that  came  pouring 
back  upon  .  Centreville.  The  best  that 
could  be  done,  therefore,  was  for  the  Cali- 
fornia regiment  to  stay  just  where  it  was, 
and,  in  absence  of  further  orders,  lend 
what  aid  it  could  to  the  protection  of  ; 
Green's  batter}-,  which  was  busily  plying 
its  fire  upon  tha  harassing  approaches  of 
the  Virginia  horse.  While  the  Thirty- 
second  was  in  this  position,  the  Sixteenth 
and  Thirty-first  having  passed  within  its 
range,  a  youthful  orderly  rode  up  to  Colonel 
Matheson  to  inform  that  the  Black  Cav- 
alry, sheltered  from  his  observation  by  a 
piece  of  woods,  were  coming  upon  the 
right,  and  if  he  would  take  a  cut  with  his 
regiment  across  the  fields,  they  would  be 
turned  back  upon  their  errand.  The  evo- 
lution was  performed,  gave  the  protection 
that  was  desired,  and  the  Black  Horse 
gave  up  its  purpose  in  that  quarter. 
While  the  regiment,  however,  was  adher- 
ing to  this  position,  the  same  youth  who 
had  imparted  the  previous  suggestion  rode 
up  to  the  regiment  again,  and  told 
Matheson  he  had  better  fall  back  on 
Centreville,  as  his  duty  at  that  spot 
had  been  thoroughly  performed.  As  this 
was  the  first  sign  of  orders  (with  one 
single  exception)  he  had  received  dur- 
ing the  entire  day,  Matheson  felt  some 
curiosity  to  learn  who  this  young  lieu- 
tenant was,  and  whence  these  orders 
came ;  he  therefore  turned  sharply  on 
the  youth,  who,  he  now  perceived,  could 
not  be  more  than  twenty-two  or  three, 
and  said: 

"  Young  man,  I  would  like  to  know  your 
name." 

"  I  am  a  son  of  Quartermaster-General 
Meigs." 

"  By  whose  authority,  then,  do  you  de- 
liver me  these  orders  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  replied  the  youth,  smiling, 
"the  truth  is,  that  for  the  last  few  hours 
I  have  been  giving  all  the  orders  for  this 


division,  and  acting  as   general,  too,  for 
there  is  no  general  on  the  field." 

The  fortunes  of  war  seemed  to  favor  the 
confederate  army,  in  some  respects  quite 
unlocked  for,  during  the  day's  struggle, 
though  at  one  time  their  fate  hung  trem- 
bling in  the  balance.  Generals  Bartow  and 
Bee  had  been  stricken  down ;  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Johnson,  of  the  Hampton  Legion, 
had  been  killed;  and  Colonel  Hampton 
had  been  wounded.  General  Beauregard, 
however,  promptly  offered  to  lead  the 
Legion  into  action,  which  he  executed  in 
a  style  unsurpassable.  He  rode  up  and 
down  the  lines  between  the  federal  troops 
and  his  own  men,  regardless  of  the  heavy 
firing,  cheering  and  encouraging  his 
troops.  About  this  time,  a  shell  struck 
his  horse,  taking  his  head  off,  and  also 
killing  the  horses  of  two  of  his  aids. 
General  Johnston  threw  himself  into  the 
thickest  of  the  fight,  seizing  the  colors  of 
the  Georgia  regiment,  and  rallying  them 
to  the  charge.  At  this  critical  moment, 
General  Johnston  was  heard  to  exclaim  to 
General  Cocke,  "  Oh,  for  four  regiments  ! " 
His  wish  was  answered,  for  in  the  distance 
some  re-enforcements  appeared.  The  tide 
of  battle  now  turned  in  their  favor,  for 
Gen.  Kirby  Smith  had  arrived  from  Win- 
chester with  four  thousand  men.  General 
Smith  heard  while  on  the  Manassas  rail- 
road cars  the  roar  of  battle.  He  stopped 
the  train  and  hurried  his  troops  across  the 
field  to  the  point  just  where  he  had  been 
most  needed.  They  were  at  first  supposed 
to  be  federal  troops,  their  arrival  at  that 
point  of  the  field  being  so  entirely  unex- 
pected. Jefferson  Davis  left  Richmond 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  reached 
Manassas  Junction  at  four,  where,  mount- 
ing a  horse,  and  accompanied  by  numerous 
attendants,  he  galloped  to  the  battle-field 
just  in  time  to  join  in  the  pursuit  by  a 
magnificent  body  of  cavalry.  As  he  waved 
his  hat,  and  exclaimed  "Onward,  my  brave 
comrades!"  cheer,  after  cheer  went  up 
from  the  enthusiastic  host.  Thus,  with 
the  arrival  of  Davis  on  the  field,  the  con- 
federate army  may  be  said  to  have  had 
three  commanders-in-chief  during  the 


BATTLE  OF  BULL  RUN,  VA. 


525 


coarse  of  the  battle.  The  whole  south 
was,  of  course,  jubilant  over  the  victory 
which  their  arms  had  achieved.  Te 
Deums  were  sung  in  the  churches,  and  a 
day  of  thanksgiving  observed.  Through- 
out the  north,  the  gloom  and  humilia- 
tion at  this  most  unlooked-for  defeat  was 
intense. 

According  to  General  McDowell's  report, 
the  federal  army's  losses  in  this  engage- 
ment were  481  killed  and  1,011  wounded. 
The  confederate  losses,  according  to  Gen- 
eral Beauregard's  report,  counted  up  269 
killed  and  1,533  wounded.  An  immense 
quantity  of  ordnance,  ammunition,  etc., 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors. 


In  the  summer  of  1865,  on  the  return  of 
peace,  a  monument  was  erected  by  friends 
of  the  Union,  about  three-fourths  of  a  mile 
beyond  Bull  Run  bridge,  in  "memory  of 
the  patriots"  who  fell  in  this  celebrated 
battle,  and  the  dedicatory  ceremonies 
consisted  of  a  solemn  dirge,  the  reading 
of  the  Episcopal  burial-service,  the  singing 
of  an  original  hymn  composed  by  Pierpont, 
and  addresses  by  Generals  Wilcox,  Farns- 
worth,  Heintzelman,  and  others.  The 
interest  attaching  to  this  famous  battle- 
field, viewed  in  all  its  historic  circum- 
stances and  consequences,  is  not  exceeded 
by  that  of  any  other  on  the  American  con- 
tinent. 


LXIV. 

EXTRAORDINARY  COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  IRON-CLADS 

MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR,  IN  HAMPTON 

ROADS.— 1862. 


Sudden  Appearance  of  the  Merrimac  Among  the  Federal  Frigates. — Their  Swift  and  Terrible  Destruc- 
tion by  Her  Steel  Prow. — Unexpected  Arrival  of  the  "  Little  Monitor  "  at  the  Scene  of  Action. — She 
Engages  and  Disables  the  Monster  Craft  in  a  Four  Hours'  Fight.— Total  Revolution  in  Naval  War- 
fare the  World  Over  by  this  Remarkable  Contest. — How  the  Merrimac  Changed  Hands.— Burned  and 
Sunk  at  Norfolk,  Va  — Her  Hull  Raised  by  the  Confederates. — She  is  Iron  Roofed  and  Plated.— Proof 
Against  Shot  and  Shell. — A  Powerful  Steel  Beak  in  Her  Prow  — Most  Formidable  Vessel  Afloat. — 
In  Command  of  Commodore  Buchanan. — Departs  from  Norfolk,  March  8th. — Pierces  and  Sinks  the 
Cumberland. — Next  Attacks  the  Congress. — The  Noble  Frigate  Destroyed. — Fight  Begun  with  the 
Minnesota. — Suspended  at  Nightfall. — Trip  of  the  Monitor  irom  New  York. — Her  New  and  Singular 
Build. — Lieutenant  Worden  Hears  of  the  Battles. — Resolves  to  Grapple  with  the  Monster. — The  Two 
Together,  Next  Day. — A  Scene  Never  to  be  Forgotten. — Worden  Turns  the  Tide  of  Fortune. — 
Repulse  and  Retreat  of  the  Merrimac. 


14  BB  IT  RKSOLVED,  ITO.,  That  the  thanks  of  Congress  and  of  the  American  people  are  due.  and  are  hereby  tendered,  to  Lieutenant  J. 
L.  Worden,  of  the  United  State*  Now.  and  fc.  the  officers  and  men  ot'  the  iron-clad  gun-boat  Monitor,  under  his  command,  tor  the  skill  and 
fatluntry  exhibited  by  them  in  the  late  remarkable  battle  between  the  Monitor  and  the  rebel  iron-clad  steamer  Merrunac. '— P.ESOLUTIOH 
PASSED  by  COKOUESS. 


HITTING  the  city  of  Norfolk,  Va.,  on  the  eighth 
of  March,  1862,  the  confederate  iron-clad  steam- 
Merrimac  sailed  down  Elizabeth  river  into 


ram 


Hampton  Roads,  Chesapeake  Bay,  and  there  sig- 
nalized the  naval  history  of  the  civil  war  in  Amer- 
ica bj'  an  action  not  only  memorable  beyond  all 
others  in  that  tremendous  conflict,  but  altogether 
unprecedented  in  the  annals  of  ocean  warfare  in 
any  country  or  i~  any  age.  On  the  abandonment 
and  destruction,  by  fire,  of  the  Norfolk  navy  yard, 
in  April,  1861,  by  the  United  States  officers  in 
charge,  among  the  vessels  left  behind  was  the 
steam  frigate  Merrimac,  of  four  thousand  tons 
burden,  then  under  repair.  In  the  conflagration 
she  was  burned  to  her  copper-line,  and  down 
through  to  her  berth-deck,  which,  with  her  spar 

and  gun-decks,  was  also  burned.  Soon  after  the  confederate  authorities  took  possession 
of  the  navy  yard,  the  Merrimac  was  raised  and  converted  into  an  iron-plated  man-of-war 
of  the  most  formidable  character.  Immediately  after  this,  she  was  placed  upon  the  dry 


INTEBIOK  OF  THB  TOWEK  OF    THE  KOJflTOB. 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


5-37 


dock,  and  covered  with  a  sloping  roof  of 
iron  plates  three  inches  thick,  the  weight 
of  which  nearly  broke  her  down  upon  the 
dock.  Owing  to  some  miscalculation  when 
launched,  she  sank  four  feet  deeper  than 
before,  and  took  in  considerable  water.  She 
was,  in  consequence,  obliged  to  be  docked  a 
second  time.  Her  hull  was  cut  down  to 
within  three  feet  of  her  water-mark,  over 
which  the  bomb-proof  house  covered  her 
gun-deck.  She  was  also  iron-plated,  and  her 
bow  and  stern  steel-clad,  with  a  projecting 
enout  of  iron  for  the  purpose  of  piercing 
an  antagonist.  She  had  no  masts,  and 
there  was  nothing  to  be  seen  over  her  gun- 
deck  but  the  pilot-house  and  smoke-stack. 
Her  bomb-proof  was  three  inches  thick, 
and  consisted  of  wrought  iron.  Her  arma- 
ment consisted  of  four  eleven-inch  navy 
guns,  broadside,  and  two  one-hundred- 
pounder  rifled  guns  at  the  bow  and  stern. 
She  was  now  named  the  Virginia,  though 
she  continued  to  be  known  as  the  Merri- 
mac.  She  was  commanded  by  Com.  Frank- 
lin Buchanan,  formerly  commandant  of  the 
Washington  navy  yard. 

The  time  chosen  for  her  depaiture  for 
Hampton  Roads  was  one  peculiarly  adapted 
for  the  trial  of  her  prowess.  The  federal 
fleet  in  that  vicinity  comprised  the  sloop- 
of-war  Cumberland,  the  sailing-frigate 
Congress,  the  steam-frigates  Minnesota, 
St.  Lawrence,  and  Roanoke — the  latter  in 
a  disabled  condition  from  a  broken  shaft, 
together  with  a  number  of  improvised 
gun-boats  of  a  small  grade.  The  Cumber- 
land and  Congress  were  anchored  before 
the  entrenched  federal  camp  at  Newport 
News,  the  Roanoke  and  St.  Lawrence  near 
the  Rip  Raps,  and  the  Minnesota  in  front 
of  Fortress  Monroe. 

On  the  Merrimac  coming  out,  on  Satur- 
day, the  eighth  of  March,  she  stood  directly 
across  the  roads  toward  Newport  News. 
What  followed  was,  according  to  the  nar- 
rative published  in  the  Baltimore  Ameri- 
can by  one  who  had  unusually  favorable 
opportunities  of  observation,  in  the  order 
of  occurrence  given  below  : 

As  soon  as  the  Merrimac  was  made  out 
»jid  her  direction  ascertained  (says  the 


narrative  referred  to),  the  crews  were  beat 
to  quarters  on  both  the  Cumberland  and 
Congress,  and  preparations  made  for  what 
was  felt  to  be  an  almost  hopeless  fight,  but 
the  determination  to  make  it  as  desperate 
as  possible.  The  Merrimac  kept  straight 
on,  making,  according  to  the  best  estimates, 
about  eight  miles  an  hour.  As  she  passed 
the  mouth  of  Nansemond  river,  the  Con- 
gress threw  the  first  shot  at  her,  which 
was  immediately  answered.  The  Merri- 
mac passed  the  Congress,  discharging  a 
broadside  at  her,— one  shell  from  which 
killed  and  disabled  every  man  except  one 
at  gun  No.  Ten, — and  kept  on  toward  the 
Cumberland,  which  she  approached  at  full 
speed,  striking  her  on  the  port  side  near 
the  bow,  her  stem  knocking  fort  No.  One 
and  the  bridle-port  into  one,  whilst  her 
ram,  or  snout,  cut  the  Cumberland  under 
water.  Almost  at  the  moment  of  collision, 
the  Merrimac  discharged  from  her  forward 
gun  an  eleven-inch  shell.  This  shell  raked 
the  whole  gun-deck,  killing  ten  men  at 
gun  No.  One,  among  whom  was  master- 
mate  John  Harrington,  and  cutting  off 
both  arms  and  legs  of  quarter-gunner 
Wood.  The  water  rushed  in  from  the  hole 
made  below,  and  in  five  minutes  the  ship 
began  to  sink  by  the  head.  Shell  and 
solid  shot  from  the  Cumberland  were  rained 
upon  the  Merrimac  as  she  passed  ahead, 
out  the  most  of  them  glanced  off  harm- 
lessly from  the  incline  of  her  iron-plated 
bomb-proof. 

As  the  Merrimac  rounded  to  and  came 
up,  she  again  raked  the  Cumberland  with 
a  heavy  fire.  At  this  fire,  sixteen  men  at 
gun  No.  Ten  were  killed  or  wounded,  and 
all  subsequently  carried  down  in  the  sink- 
ing ship.  Advancing  with  increased  mo- 
mentum, the  Merrimac  now  struck  the 
Cumberland  on  the  starboard  side,  smash- 
ing her  upper  works  and  cutting  another 
hole  below  the  water-line. 

The  ill-fated  Cumberland  now  began  to 
rapidly  settle,  and  the  scene  became  most 
horrible.  The  cock-pit  was  filled  with  the 
wounded,  whom  it  was  found  impossible 
to  bring  up.  The  former  magazine  was 
under  water,  but  powder  was  still  supplied 


628 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR 


from  the  after-magazine,  and  the  firing 
kept  steadily  up  by  men  who  knew  that 
the  ship  was  sinking  under  them.  They 
worked  desperately  and  unremittingly,  and 
amid  the  din  and  horror  of  the  conflict 
gave  cheers  for  their  flag  and  the  Union, 
which  were  joined  in  by  the  wounded. 
The  decks  were  slippery  with  blood,  and 
arms  and  legs  and  chunks  of  flesh  were 
strewed  about.  The  Merrimac  laid  off  at 
easy  point-blank  range,  discharging  her 
broadsides  alternately  at  the  Cumberland 
and  the  Congress.  The  water  by  this  time 
had  reached  the  after-magazine  of  the 
Cumberland.  The  men,  however,  kept  at 
work,  and  several  cases  of  powder  were 
passed  up  and  the  guns  kept  in  play.  A 


drowned.  When  the  order  WHS  given  to 
cease  firing,  and  to  look  out  for  their  safety 
in  the  best  way  possible,  numbers  scam- 
pered through  the  port-holes,  whilst  others 
reached  the  spar-deck  by  the  companion- 
ways.  Some  were  unable  to  get  out  by 
either  of  these  means,  and  were  carried  by 
the  rapidly  sinking  ship. 

The  Cumberland  sank  in  water  nearly  to 
her  cross-trees.  She  went  down  with  her 
flay  still  flying,  and,  for  some  time  after, 
it  might  still  be  seen  filing  from  the  mast 
above  the  water  that  overwhelmed  the 
noble  ship, — a  memento  of  the  bravest, 
most  daring,  and  yet  most  hopeless  defense 
that  was  ever  made  by  any  vessel  belong- 
ing to  any  navy  in  the  world.  The  men 


-w 


number  of  men  in  the  after  shell-room  lin- 
gered there  too  long  in  their  eagerness  to 
pass  up  shell  and  were  drowned. 

By  this  time  the  water  had  reached  the 
berth  or  main  gun-deck,  and  it  was  felt 
hopeless  and  useless  to  continue  the  fight 
longer.  The  word  was  given  for  each,  man 
to  save  himself ;  but  after  this  order,  gun 
No.  Seven  was  fired,  when  the  adjoining 
gun,  No.  Six,  was  actually  under  water. 
This  last  shot  was  fired  by  an  active  little 
fellow  named  Matthew  Tenney,  whose 
courage  had  been  conspicuous  throughout 
the  action.  As  his  port  was  left  open  by 
the  recoil  of  the  gun,  he  jumped  to  scram- 
ble out,  but  the  water  rushed  in  with  so 
much  force  that  he  was  washed  back  and 


fought  with  a  courage  that  could  not  be 
excelled ;  there  was  no  flinching,  no  thought 
of  surrender.  The  whole  number  lost,  of 
the  Cumberland's  crew,  was  one  hundred 
and  twenty.  Many  of  the  scenes  on  board 
were  deeply  affecting.  Two  of  the  gunners 
at  the  bow-guns,  when  the  ship  was  sink- 
ing, clasped  their  guns  in  their  arms,  and 
would  not  be  removed,  and  went  down 
embracing  them.  One  gunner  had  both 
his  legs  shot  away;  but  he  made  three 
steps  on  his  bloody  thighs,  seized  the  lan- 
yard and  fired  his  gun,  falling  back  dead. 
Wood,  who  lost  both  arms  and  legs,  on 
being  offered  assistance,  cried  out,  "Back 
to  your  guns,  boys  /  Give' em  fits!  Hur- 
rah for  the  flag  !  "  He  lived  till  she  sank. 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MEERIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


529 


Having  thoroughly  demolished  the  Cum- 
berland, the  Merrimac  now  proceeded  to 
deal  with  the  Congress,  the  officers  of 
which,  having  seen  the  fate  of  the  Cum- 
berland, and  aware  that  the  Congress  must 
also  be  sunk  if  she  remained  within  reach 
of  the  iron  monster's  beak,  had  got  all  sail 
on  the  ship,  with  the  intention  of  running 
her  ashore.  The  tug-boat  Zouave  also 
came  out  and  made  fast  to  the  Cumberland, 
and  assisted  in  towing  her  ashore. 

The  Merrimac  then  surged  up,  gave  the 
Congress  a  broadside,  receiving  one  in 
return,  and  getting  astern,  raked  the  Con- 
gress fore  and  aft.  This  fire  was  terribly 
destructive,  a  shell  killing  every  man  at 
one  of  the  guns  except  one.  Coming  again 
broadside  to  the  Congress,  the  Merrimac 
ranged  slowly  backward  and  forward,  at 
less  than  one  hundred  yards  distant,  and 
fired  broadside  after  broadside  into  tho 
Congress.  The  latter  vessel  replied  man- 
fully and  obstinately,  every  gun  that  could 
be  brought  to  bear  being  discharged  rap- 
idly, but  with  little  effect  upon  the  iron 
monster.  Some  of  the  balls  caused  splint- 
ers of  iron  to  fly  from  her  mailed  roof,  but 
still  she  seemed  well  nigh  invulnerable. 
The  Merrimac's  guns  appeared  to  be  spe- 
cially trained  on  the  after-magazine  of  the 
Congress,  and  shot  after  shot  entered  that 
part  of  the  ship. 

Thus  slowly  drifting  down  with  the 
current  and  again  steaming  up,  the  Merri- 
mac continued  for  an  hour  to  fire  into  her 
opponent.  Several  times  the  Congress  was 
on  fire,  but  the  flames  were  kept  down. 
Finally,  the  ship  was  on  fire  in  so  many 
places,  and  the  flames  gathering  such  force, 
that  it  was  hopeless  and  suicidal  to  keep 
up  the  defense  any  longer.  The  federal 
flag  was  sorrowfully  hauled  down  and  a 
white  flag  hoisted  at  the  peak.  After  it 
,  was  hoisted,  the  Merrimac  continued  to 
fire,  perhaps  not  discovering  the  white  flag, 
but  soon  after  ceased  firing. 

A  small  confederate  tug  that  had  fol- 
lowed the  Merrimac  out  of  Norfolk  then 
came  alongside  the  Congress,  and  a  young 
officer  gained  the  gun-deck  through  a  port- 
hole, announced  that  he  came  on  board  to 


take  command,  and  ordered  the  officers  on 
board  the  tug.  The  officers  of  the  Con- 
gress refused  to  go,  hoping  from  the  near- 
ness to  the  shore  that  they  would  be  able 
to  reach  it,  and  unwilling  to  become  pris- 
oners whilst  the  least  chance  of  escape 
remained.  Some  of  the  men,  thinking  the 
tug  was  a  federal  vessel,  rushed  on  board. 
At  this  moment,  the  members  of  an  Indi- 
ana regiment,  at  Newport  News,  brought 
a  Parrott  gun  down  to  the  beach  and 
opened  fire  upon  the  tug.  The  latter 
hastily  put  off,  and  the  Merrimac  again 
opened  fire  upon  the  Congress.  The  fire 
not  being  returned  from  the  ship,  the  Mer- 
rimac commenced  shelling  the  woods  and 
camps  at  Newport  News. 

By  the  time  all  were  ashore,  it  was 
seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  the  Con- 
gress was  in  a  bright  sheet  of  flame  fore  and 
aft.  She  continued  to  burn  until  twelve 
o'clock  at  night,  her  guns,  which  were 
loaded  and  trained,  going  off  as  they  became 
heated.  Finally,  the  fire  reached  her  mag- 
azines, and  with  a  tremendous  concussion 
her  charred  remains  blew  up.  There  were 
some  five  tons  of  gunpowder  in  her  mag- 
azines, and  about  twenty  thousand  dollars 
in  the  safe  ot  paymaster  Buchanan,  the 
latter  officer  being  an  own  brother  to  the 
commander  of  the  Merrimac.  The  loss  of 
life  on  board  the  Congress  was  lamentable. 

After  sinking  the  Cumberland  and  firing 
the  Congress,  the  Mernmac  (with  her 
companions  the  Yorktown  and  James- 
town,) stood  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
Minnesota,  which,  in  trying  to  reach  the 
scene  of  action,  had  run  aground,  and 
could  not  be  moved.  An  exchange  of  shot 
and  shell,  however,  took  place  between  the 
vessels,  after  which,  nightfall  setting  in, 
the  Merrimac  steamed  in  under  Sewall's 
Point,  expecting  the  next  day  to  capture 
the  Minnesota  as  a  prize,  instead  of  destroy- 
ing her.  The  day  thus  closed  dismally  for 
the  federal  side,  and  with  the  most  gloomy 
apprehensions  of  what  would  occur  the 
next  day.  The  Minnesota  was  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Merrimac,  and  there  appeared 
no  reason  why  the  iron  monster  might  not 
clear  the  Roads  of  the  whole  fleet,  and 


530 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


destroy  all  the  stores  and  warehouses  on 
the  beach.  Saturday,  therefore,  was  a 
night  of  terror  at  Fortress  Monroe. 

But  just  here,  the  chief  event  of  interest 
centers.  It  was  at  night,  the  inoon  shin- 
ing brightly,  when,  totally  unexpected, 
there  came  into  those  blood-dyed  waters, 
the  little  gun-boat  Monitor,  from  New  York, 
— a  vessel  which  had  just  been  completed, 
from  designs  of  Mr.  Ericsson,  and  differ- 
ing materially  from  any  vessel  ever  before 
constructed,  aud  believed  by  its  inventor 
to  be  absolutely  invulnerable.  Externally, 
it  had  the  appearance  of  a  long,  oval  raft, 
rising  only  eighteen  inches  above  the 
water,  with  a  low,  round  tower  upon  its 
center.  This  raft  was  the  upper  part  of 
the  hull  of  the  vessel,  and  was  plated  with 
iron  so  as  to  be  ball-proof ;  it  projected  on 
every  side  beyond  the  lower  hull,  which 
contained  the  machinery.  The  tower,  con- 
taining two  heavy  guns,  the  only  arma- 
ment of  the  battery,  was  of  iron,  and  nearly 
a  foot  in  thickness,  and  so  constructed  as 
to  revolve,  bringing  the  guns  to  bear  upon 
any  point.  This  tower,  nine  feet  high  and 
twenty  in  diameter,  and  a  pilot-house,  ris- 
ing three  feet,  were  all  that  appeared  upon 
the  smooth,  level  deck.  She  was  com- 
manded by  Lieutenant  Worden,  U.  S.  N., 
and,  though  a  mere  pigmy,  in  size  and 
armament,  compared  with  the  Merrimac, 
was  soon  to  measure  her  prowess  with  the 
latter,  in  a  contest  such  as  had  never 
entered  into  the  imagination  even  of  Mr. 
Ericsson  himself. 

The  succeeding  day,  Sunday,  dawned 
fair.  As  the  sun  broke  on  the  horizon,  a 
slight  haze  was  visible  on  the  water,  which 
prevented  an  extended  vision.  At  half 
past  six,  A.  M.,  this  haze  cleared  away. 
Looking  toward  Sewall's  Point,  there 
appeared  the  Merrimac,  and  her  attend- 
ants, the  steamers  Yorktown  and  Patrick 
Henry.  They  were  stationary, — the  Mer- 
rimac to  the  right  of  the  others,  blowing 
off  steam.  They  seemed  deliberating  what 
to  do — whether  to  move  on  to  attempt  the 
destruction  of  the  Minnesota,  which  was 
yet  aground,  or  move  on  to  the  federal 
fleet  anchored  near  the  Rip  Raps.  At  ' 


seven  o'clock,  a  plan  seemed  to  nave  been 
adopted,  and  the  Merrimac  steamed  in  the 
direction  of  the  Minnesota,  which  was  still 
aground.  The  Yorktown  and  Jamestown 
were  crowded  with  troops,  and  steamed 
slowly  after  the  Merrimac.  The  lattar 
steamed  along  with  boldness  until  she  was 
within  three  miles  of  the  Minnesota,  when 
the  Monitor  essayed  from  behind  the  lat- 
ter,  and  proceeded  toward  the  Merrimac. 
It  should  here  be  mentioned,  that  when 
Lieutenant  Worden  first  arrived  in  the 
Roads  and  was  informed  of  what  had 
occurred,  though  his  crew  were  suffering 
from  exposure  and  loss  of  rest  from  a 
stormy  voyage  around  from  New  York,  he 
at  once  made  preparations  for  taking  part 
in  whatever  might  take  place  the  next  day. 
To  this  end,  the  Monitor  moved  up,  before 
daylight  on  Sunday  morning,  and  took  a 
position  alongside  the  Minnesota,  lying 
between  the  latter  ship  and  the  fortress, 
where  she  could  not  be  seen  by  the  enemy, 
but  was  ready,  with  steam  up,  to  slip  out. 

At  the  sudden  appearance  of  so  strange- 
looking  and  diminutive  a  craft  as  the  Mon- 
itor, the  confederate  monster  seemed  non- 
plussed, and  hesitated,  no  doubt  in  wonder- 
ment that  such  an  unaccountable  and 
apparently  insignificant  an  object  should 
be  making  so  bold  an  approach. 

The  Merrimac  now  closed  the  distance 
between  her  and  the  Monitor,  until  they 
were  within  a  mile  of  each  other.  Both 
batteries  stopped.  The  Merrimac  fired  a 
shot  at  the  Minnesota,  to  which  no  reply 
was  made.  She  then  fired  at  the  Monitor ; 
the  latter  replied,  hitting  the  Merrimac 
near  the  water-line.  The  Merrimac  then 
commenced  firing  very  rapidly,  first  from 
her  stern  gun  at  the  Monitor,  and  then 
her  broadside  guns,  occasionally  firing  a 
shot  at  the  Minnesota.  The  fight  went  on 
in  this  way  for  an  hour  or  two,  both  ves- 
sels exchanging  shots  pretty  freely.  Some- 
times the  Merrimac  would  retire,  followed 
by  the  Monitor,  and  sometimes  the  reverse. 

While  the  fight  between  the  batteries 
was  going  on,  one  hundred  solid  nine-inch 
shot  were  sent  up  from  Fortress  Monroe 
on  the  steamer  Rancocas  to  the  Minnesota. 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


531 


At  a  quarter-past  ten  o'clock,  tile  Merri- 
mac  and  Monitor  had  come  into  pretty 
close  quarters,  the  former  giving  tbe  latter 
two  broadsides  in  succession.  it  was 
replied  to  promptly  by  the  Monitor.  The 
firing  was  so  rapid  that  both  craft  were 
obscured  in  colum  is  of  white  smoke  for  a 
moment  or  more.  The  ramparts  of  the 
fort,  the  rigging  of  the  vessels  in  port,  the 
houses,  and  the  bend,  were  all  crowded 
with  sailors,  soldiers  and  civilians.  When 
the  rapid  firing  alluded  to  took  place,  these 
spectators  were  singularly  silent,  as  if 
doubtful  as  to  the  result.  Their  impatience 
was  soon  removed  by  the  full  figure  of  the 
Monitor,  with  the  stars  and  stripes  flying 
at  her  stern,  steaming  around  the  Merri- 
uiac,  moving  with  the  ease  of  a  duck  on 
the  water.  The  distance  between  the  ves- 
sels was  forty  feet.  In  this  circuit,  the 
Monitor's  guns  were  not  idle,  as  she  fired 
shot  after  shot  into  her  antagonist,  two  of 
which  penetrated  the  monster's  sides. 

At  eleven,  A.  M.,  the  Minnesota  opened 
fire,  and  assisted  the  Monitor  in  engaging 
the  Merrimac.  She  fired  nine-inch  solid 
shot  with  good  accuracy,  but  with  appar- 
ently little  effect.  The  Merrimac  returned 
the  fire,  firing  shell,  one  of  which  struck 
and  exploded  the  boiler  of  the  gun-boat 
Dragon,  which  was  alongside  the  Minne- 
sota, endeavoring  to  get  her  off.  For  the 
next  hour,  the  battle  raged  fiercely  between 
the  Merrimac  on  the  one  side,  and  her 
antagonists,  the  Monitor,  Minnesota,  and 
Whitehall,  but  with  no  important  result. 
The  Minnesota  being  the  best  mark  for 
the  Merrimac,  the  latter  fired  at  her  fre- 
quently, alternately  giving  the  Monitor  a 
shot.  The  Merrimac  made  several  attem  pts, 
also,  to  run  at  full  speed  past  the  Monitor, 
to  attack  and  run  down  the  Minnesota. 
All  these  attempts  were  parried,  as  it  were, 
by  the  Monitor.  In  one  of  these  attempts 
by  the  Merrimac,  she  ran  her  prow  or  ram 
with  full  force  against  the  side  of  the 
Monitor;  but  it  only  had  the  effect  of 
careening  the  latter  vessel  in  the  slightest 
degree.  The  Yorktown  and  Patrick  Henry 
kept  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  Monitor. 
The  former  vessel,  at  the  beginning  of  the 


532 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


fight,  had  the  temerity  to  come  within 
respectable  range  of  the  Monitor.  The 
latter  fired  one  shot  at  her,  which  carried 
away  her  pilot-house,  and  caused  her  to  lose 
no  time  in  retiring. 

'  As  the  Monitor  carried  but  two  guns, 
whilst  the  Merrimac  had  eight,  of  course 
she  received  two  or  three  shots  for  every 
one  she  gave.  The  fight  raged  hotly  on 
both  sides,  the  opposing  batteries  moving 
around  each  other  with  great  skill,  ease, 
and  dexterity.  The  Merrimac,  though  the 
strongest,  did  not  move  with  the  alertness 
of  her  antagonist ;  hence  the  Monitor  had 
the  advantage  of  taking  choice  of  position. 
At  a  quarter  before  twelve  o'clock,  noon, 
Lieutenant  Hepburn,  the  signal  officer  on 
the  ramparts  at  Fortress  Monroe,  reported 
to  General  Wool  that  the  Monitor  had 
pierced  the  sides  of  the  Merrimac,  and  in 
a  few  minutes  the  latter  was  in  full  retreat. 
Whether  true,  or  not,  that  the  Merrimac's 
armor  had  actually  been  penetrated,  her 
iron  prow  had  become  so  wrenched  in 
striking  the  sides  of  her  antagonist,  that 
the  timbers  within  were  started,  and  the 
vessel  leaked  badiy.  The  little  Monitor 
followed  the  retreating  Merrimac  until  she 
got  well  inside  Sewall's  Point,  and  then 
returned  to  the  Minnesota.  It  is  probable 
that  the  pursuit  wou'd  have  been  con- 
tinued still  farther,  but  Lieutenant  Worden 
had  previously  had  his  eyes  injured,  and  it 
was  felt  that,  as  so  much  depended  on  the 
Monitor,  it  was  imprudent  to  expose  her 
unnecessarily.  At  the  time  he  was  injured, 
Lieutenant  Worden  was  looking  out  of  the 
eye-holes  of  the  pilot-house,  which  were 
simply  horizontal  slips,  half  an  inch  wide. 
A  round  shot  struck  against  these  slits  as 
Lieutenant  Worden  was  looking  through, 
causing  some  Dealings  from  the  iron  and 
fragments  of  cement  to  fly  with  great  force 
against  his  eyes,  utterly  blinding  him  for 
some  days,  and  permanently  destroying 
the  power  of  his  left  eye.  Stunned  by 
the  concussion,  he  was  carried  away 
helpless. 

On  recovering  sufficiently  to  speak,  he 
asked — 

"  Have  I  saved  the  Minnesota  ?  a 


"  Tes,  and  whipped  the  Merrimac"  was 
the  answer. 

"  Then  I  don't  care  what  becomes  of  me," 
said  Lieutenant  Worden. 

No  other  real  damage  was  received  by 
the  Monitor,  during  the  action  ;  the  deep- 
est indentation  received  by  her  was  on 
the  side,  amounting  to  four  and  one-half 
inches;  on  the  turret,  the  deepest  was  one 
and  one-half  inches  ;  and  on  the  deck,  one- 
half  inch.  The  Merrimac,  in  addition  to 
the  injury  already  mentioned,  had  her 
anchor  and  flag-staff  shot  away,  her  smoke- 
stack and  steam-pipe  riddled,  two  of  her 
crew  killed  and  eight  wounded,  including 
her  commander,  Buchanan.  The  latter 
officer  went  out  on  his  deck,  was  seen  by 
the  federal  sharp-shooters  at  Camp  Butler, 
and  was  shot  with  a  minie  rifle  ball  in  his 
left  leg,  which  maimed  him  for  life.  His 
exploits  gained  him  great  favor  at  the 
south,  and  he  was  subsequently  made 
Admiral  of  Ihe  Confederate  States  navy. 
The  praises  of  Lieutenant  Worden  filled 
every  loyal  mouth,  and  he  was  successfully 
promoted  to  the  highest  rank  in  the  ser- 
vice. 

Withdrawing  to  Lorfolk,  the  Merrimac 
underwent  extensive  repairs  for  some 
weeks,  and  was  provided  with  ordnance  of 
great  power.  She  then  took  her  station 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Elizabeth  river,  guard- 
ing it,  and  threatening  the  United  States 
vessels  in  the  Roads,  but,  on  account  of 
some  defects  in  her  working,  not  ventur- 
ing an  attack.  Finally,  Norfolk  having 
surrendered  to  the  Union  forces,  May  10th, 
and  the  Merrimac  being  found  to  draw  too 
much  water  to  admit  of  her  being  removed 
up  the  river,  she  was  on  the  12th  aban- 
doned and  set  on  fire,  and  soon  after  Kew 
up. 

The  loss  of  two  such  fine  war  vessels  as 
the  Cumberland  and  Congress,  with  some 
four  hundred  brave  men,  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  nation,  the  weight  of  which  was  only 
relieved  by  the  heroism  displayed  in  their 
defense.  Indeed,  one  of  the  greatest  in- 
stances of  patriotic  devotion  ever  recorded 
in  our  own  or  any  other  nation's  naval  his- 
tory, is  that  which  narrates  the  closing 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


533 


scene  on  board  the  Cumberland.  Neither 
the  shots  of  the  Congress,  nor  of  the  Cum- 
berland, hud  any  more  effect,  for  the  most 
part,  upon  the  iron-mailed  Merrimac,  than 
if  they  had  been  so  many  peas.  But  if 
they  could  have  kept  die  Merrimac  off,  she 
never  could  have  sunk  the  Cumberland. 
They  had  then  nothing  to  do  but  stand  and 
fight  and  die  like  men.  Buchanan  asked 
their  commander,  Lieutenant  Morris — 
"  Will  you  surrender  the  ship  ?  " 
"Never,"  said  Morris,  "never  will  we 
surrender  the  ship." 

Buchanan  then  backed  his  huge  tarn  off 
again,  and  the  Cumberland  fired  as  rapidly 
as  she  could,  but  the  Merrimac  came  once 
more  and  ran  her  steel  beak  in ;  and  now 
it  was  that  Buchanan  asked  Lieutenant 
Morris,  calling  him  by  name — 


"Mr.  Morris,  will  you  surrender  that 
ship  ?  " 

"  Never,"  said  Morris,  "  sink  her  !  " 

The  remaining  act  in  this  startling 
drama  is  well  known.  The  guns  of  the 
Cumberland  were  coolly  manned,  loaded 
and  discharged,  while  the  vessel  was  in  a 
sinking  condition,  and  the  good  ship  went 
down  with  her  flag  flying  defiantly  at  the 
gaff 

Similar  was  the  bravery  exhibited  on 
board  the  ill-fated  Congress.  The  father 
of  the  gallant  commander  of  that  ship 
(Lievfenant  Joseph  Smith),  who  lost  his 
life  in  that  terrible  encounter,  was  Com- 


modore Joseph  Smith,  of  Washington.  It 
appears  that  the  elder  Smith  had  exerted 
himself  specially  to  finish  the  work  on  the 
Monitor,  and  hasten  her  departure.  The 
son,  too,  had  written  repeatedly  to  the 
naval  authorities  at  Washington,  express- 
ing his  fears  for  the  consequences  of  an 
attack  from  the  Merrimac,  and  urging 
plans  for  guarding  against  it.  The  father 
knew  the  spirit  of  his  son,  and  that  the 
only  issue  of  a  battle  for  him  was  death  or 
victory.  When  he  saw,  therefore,  by  the 
first  dispatch  from  Fortress  Monroe,  that 
the  Congress  had  raised  the  white  flag,  he 
only  remarked  quietly,  "  Joe  is  dead ! " 
No  Roman  father  ever  paid  a  nobler  or 
more  emphatic  tribute  of  confidence  to  a 
gallant  son  than  is  contained  in  the  words 
BO  uttered,  nor  ever  gave  that  son  to  his 
country  with  more  cheerful  and 
entire  devotion.  The  sad  assur- 
ance was  well  founded.  The  flag 
was  not  struck  until  his  son  had 
fallen. 

Not  less  conspicuous  was  the 
conduct  of  Charles  Johnston,  boats- 
wain of  the  Congress — a  fine  speci- 
men of  the  thorough  seaman,  who 
had  been  in  the  navy  some  thirty 
odd  years — who  greatly  excited  the 
admiration  of  the  officers  by  his 
cool,  unflinching  courage.  Sta- 
tioned in  the  very  midst  of  the 
carnage  committed  by  the  raking 
fire  of  the  Merrimac,  he  never  lost 
his  self-possession,  and  not  for  a 
moment  failed  to  cheer  on  and  encourage 
the  men.  Blinded  with  the  smoke  and 
dust,  and  splashed  with  the  blood  and 
brains  of  his  shipmates,  his  cheering  words 
of  encouragement  were  still  heard.  After 
the  engagement,  from  which  he  escaped 
unwounded,  his  kindness  and  care  in  pro- 
viding for  the  removal  of  the  wounded, 
were  untiring.  The  fact  has  already  been 
mentioned  that  the  paymaster  of  the  Con- 
gress was  an  own  brother  of  the  com- 
mander of  the  Merrimac.  His  position 
was  one  of  extreme  agony,  but  his  loyal 
heart  did  not  fail  him.  "  Just  before  the 
'  sanguinary  engagement,"  said  paymaster 


534 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  MEERIMAC  AND  MONITOR. 


Buchanan,  "I  volunteered  my  serv- 
ices  to  Lieut.  Commanding  Joseph  B. 
Smith  for  duty  on  either  of  the  upper 
decks,  although  the  rebel  steamer  Mer- 
rimac  was  commanded  by  my  own 
brother,  when  I  received  an  order  to  take 
charge  of  the  berth-deck  division,  which 
order  I  promptly  obeyed,  and,  thank 


God,  I  did  some   service  to  my  beloved 
country." 

The  character  of  this  contest  may  truly 
be  said  to  have  astonished  the  world,  and 
its  effect  has  been  to  revolutionize  the 
principles  and  mode  of  naval  warfare,  ren- 
dering wooden  vessels  of  war  practically 
useless  for  active  service. 


L-XV. 
BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD.— 1862. 


Bloodiest  Day  That  America  Ever  Saw.— Nearly  One  Hundred  Thousand  Men  on  Each  Side. — General 
McClellan  Declares  on  the  Field  that  it  is  "  the  Battle  of  the  War."— Four  Miles  and  Fourteen  Hours 
of  Fighting  and  Slaughter  — The  Shock  and  "  Glory  "  of  War  on  a  Colossal  Scale. — Obstinate  Brav- 
ery of  the  Contending  Foes.— Some  of  the  Regiments  Almost  Annihilated. — The  Union  Troops 
Hold  the  Disputed  Ground.— Lee's  Great  Military  Object — His  Troops  Enter  Maryland.— Frowning 
Masses  of  Soldiery.— Surrender  of  Harper's  Ferry. — McClellan's  Army  in  Motion. — He  Attacks  the 
Enemy  in  Position.— Hooker  Leads  the  Advance. — He  is  Shot  and  Disabled.— Death  of  General 
Mansfield. — Other  Union  Generals  Wounded. — Reno's  Untimely  End. — Rain  of  Shot  and  Shell. — 
Various  Fortunes  of  the  Day — Close  and  Stern  Ordeal. — Feat  of  Burnside's  Corps. — Their  Struggle 
for  the  Hill. — A  Fearful  Crisis  with  General  Burnside.— He  Asks  for  Re-enforcements. — McClellan's 
Memorable  Reply. — Driving  the  Enemy  en  masse.— Forty  of  their  Colors  Taken. — The  After-Scene 
of  Horror. 


"  Our  forcei  slept  that  night  conquerors  on  a  field  won  by  their  valor,  and  covered  with  the  dead  and  wounded  of  the  nemv  '*— G* 
HSiL  KoCLUUri  OFFICIAL  RZPOKT.  «"w 


,  EAVY  and  melancholy  as  was  the  loss  of  life 
attending  the  bloody  battle  of  Antietam,  on  the 
17th  of  September,  1862,  between  the  Union 
and  confederate  armies — numbering  about  one 
hundred  thousand  brave  soldiers  each — and  com- 
manded, respectively,  by  General  McClellan  and 
General  Lee,  a  burden  of  anxiety  was  rolled  off 
the  loyal  hearts  of  the  North,  when,  on  the 
evening  of  that  day,  there  came  from  General 
Hooker  the  following  thrilling  dispatch,  dated 
at  Centreville,  Md. : 

"  A  great  battle  has  been  fought,  and  we  are 
victorious.  I  had  the  honor  to  open  it  yesterday 
afternoon,  and  it  continued  until  ten  o'clock  this 
morning,  when  I  was  wounded,  and  compelled 
to  quit  the  field.  The  battle  was  fought  with 
great  violence  on  both  sides.  The  carnage  has 
been  awful.  I  only  regret  that  I  was  not  per- 
mitted to  take  part  in  the  operations  until  they 
were  concluded,  for  I  had  counted  on  either  cap- 

turing  their  army  or  driving  them  into  the  Potomac.     My  wound  has  been  painful,  but 
it  is  not  one  that  will  be  likely  to  lay  me  up.     I  was  shot  through  the  foot." 

One  great  object  of  General  Lee,  during  the  summer  of  this  year,  was  to  possess 


53C 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


himself  of  Harper's  Ferry,  as  the  base  of 
future  and  more  important  operations.  To 
this  end,  the  confederate  forces  under  Gen- 
erals Jackson,  Longstreet,  and  Hill,  en- 
tered Frederick,  Md.,  in  the  early  part  of 
September,  and  occupied  all  the  adjoining 
country,  their  right  resting  on  the  Mono- 
cacy  river.  The  federal  army,  which  with 
the  exception  of  about  fourteen  thousand 
men  at  Harper's  Ferry,  had  been  concen- 
trated near  Washington,  and  had  been 
placed  under  the  immediate  command  of 
General  McClellan,  advanced  to  meet  the 
enemy.  Passing  up  the  Potomac,  they' 
interposed  in  force  between  the  confeder- 
ates and  the  fords  by  which  they  had 
crossed,  threatening  to  cut  off  their  re- 
treat in  case  they  should  be  defeated. 
Perceiving  this,  the  confederates  aban- 
doned Frederick,  and  went  northward  to 
Hagerstown,  which  was  occupied  Septem- 
ber llth.  A  strong  body  was  then  sent  to 
attack  Harper's  Ferry.  The  assault  was 
opened  on  the  12th  and  continued  on  the 
following  day,  when  the  federal  troops 
were  driven  from  the  heights  on  the  Mary- 
land side.  On  Monday  morning  the  place 
was  fairly  surrounded,  and  fire  was  opened 
from  seven  or  eight  different  points.  On 
the  morning  of  the  15th,  Colonel  Miles, 
commander  at  Harper's  Ferry,  ordered  the 
white  flag  to  be  raised,  to  General  Jackson ; 
a  few  moments  after,  he  was  struck  by  a 
shot  which  mortally  wounded  him.  The 
cavalry,  numbering  some  two  thousand, 
who  had  been  at  the  Ferry,  cut  their  way 
through  the  enemy's  lines  and  escaped ; 
the  remainder  of  the  troops,  to  the  number 
of  about  eleven  thousand,  surrendered,  and 
were  immediately  paroled.  The  posses- 
sion of  the  place  was  of  considerable  ad- 
vantage to  the  confederates,  though  they 
retained  it  but  for  one  day ;  the  bridge 
over  the  Potomac  not  being  destroyed 
enabled  them  to  cross  the  river,  and  take 
part  in  the  battle  of  Antietam,  which  fol- 
lowed on  the  17th. 

A  close  pursuit  was  kept  up  by  the  fed- 
eral army,  and,  early  on  the  morning  of 
the  14th,  the  advance  —  the  right  and 
center  under  Hooker  and  Reno,  the  left 


under  Franklin— came  up  with  the  enemy, 
who  were  strongly  posted  on  the  crest  of 
the  South  Mountain,  commanding  the  road 
to  Hagerstown.  The  attack  on  both  wings, 
which  lasted  from  noon  until  nightfall,  re- 
sulted in  forcing  the  confederates  from  all 
their  positions,  so  that  they  retreated  during 
the  night  in  the  direction  of  Williamsport. 
In  this  action,  General  Eeno  was  killed. 
Having  hastily  abandoned  Harper's  Ferry, 
the  confederates  re-crossed  the  Potomac, 
and  joined  the  main  body  under  Lee. 

In  the  meantime,  McClellan  had  defi- 
nitely made  his  arrangements  for  giving 
battle  to  the  opposing  hosts.  In  accord- 
ance with  this  plan,  as  detailed  by  McClel- 
lan, in  his  official  report,  Hooker's  corps, 
consisting  of  Rickett's  and  Doubleday's 
divisions,  and  the  Pennsylvania  reserves, 
under  Meade,  was  sent  across  the  Antie- 
tam creek,  by  a  ford  and  bridge  to  the 
right  of  Kedysville,  with  orders  to  attack, 
and,  if  possible,  turn  the  enemy's  left. 
Mansfield,  with  his  corps,  was  sent  in  the 
evening  to  support  Hooker.  Arrived  in 
position,  Meade's  division  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania reserves,  which  was  at  the  head  of 
Hooker's  corps,  became  engaged  in  a  sharp 
contest  with  the  enemy,  which  lasted  until 
after  dark,  when  it  had  succeeded  in  driv- 
ing in  a  portion  of  the  opposing  line,  and 
held  the  ground.  At  daylight  the  contest 
was  renewed  between  Hooker  and  the 
enemy  in  his  front.  Hooker's  attack  was 
successful  for  a  time,  but  masses  of  the 
enemy,  thrown  upon  his  corps,  checked  it. 
Mansfield  brought  up  his  corps  to  Hook- 
er's support,  when  the  two  corps  drove  the 
enemy  back,  the  gallant  and  distinguished 
veteran  Mansfield  losing  his  life  in  the 
effort.  General  Hooker  was,  unhappily, 
about  this  time  wounded,  and  compelled  to 
leave  the  field,  where  his  services  had 
been  conspicuous  and  important.  About 
an  hour  after  this  time,  Sumner's  corps, 
consisting  of  Sedgwick's,  Richardson's,  and 
French's  divisions,  arrived  on  the  field — 
Richardson's  some  time  after  the  other 
two,  as  he  was  unable  to  start  as  soon  as 
they.  Sedgwick,  on  the  right,  penetrated 
the  woods  in  front  of  Hooker's  and  Mans- 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


537 


field's  troops.  French  and  Richardson 
were  placed  to  the  left  of  Sedgwick,  thus 
attacking  the  enemy  toward  their  left 
center.  Crawford's  and  Sedgwick's  lines, 
however,  yielded  to  a  destructive  fire  of 
masses  of  the  enemy  in  the  woods,  and, 
suffering  greatly,  (Generals  Sedgwick  and 
Crawford  being  among  the  wounded,)  their 
troops  fell  back  in  disorder ;  they,  never- 
theless, rallied  in  the  woods.  The  enemy's 
advance  was,  however,  entirely  checked 
by  the  destructive  fire  of  our  artillery. 
Franklin,  who  had  been  directed  the  day 
before  to  join  the  main  army  with  two 
divisions,  arrived  on  the  field  from  Browns- 
ville about  an  hour  after,  and  Smith's 
division  replaced  Crawford's  and  Sedg- 
wick's lines.  Advancing  steadily,  it  swept 


over  the  ground  just  lost,  but  now  perma- 
nently retaken.  The  divisions  of  French 
and  Richardson  maintained  with  consider- 
able loss  the  exposed  positions  which 
they  had  so  gallantly  gained,  among  the 
wounded  being  General  Richardson. 

The  condition  of  things  (says  General 
McClellan,)  on  the  right,  toward  the  mid- 
dle of  the  afternoon,  notwithstanding  the 
success  wrested  from  the  enemy  by  the 
stubborn  bravery  of  the  troops,  was  at  this 
time  unpromising.  Sumner's,  Hooker's, 
and  Mansfield's  corps  had  lost  heavily, 
several  general  officers  having  been  carried 


from  the  field.  I  was  at  one  time  com- 
pelled to  draw  two  brigades  from  Porter's 
corps  (the  reserve)  to  strengthen  the  right. 
This  left  for  the  reserve  the  small  division 
of  regulars  who  had  been  engaged  in  sup- 
porting during  the  day  the  batteries  in  the 
center,  and  a  single  brigade  of  Morell's 
division.  The  effect  of  Burnside's  move- 
ment on  the  enemy's  right  was  to  prevent 
the  further  massing  of  their  troops  on 
their  left,  and  we  held  what  we  had  gained. 
Burnside's  corps,  consisting  of  Wilcox's, 
Sturgis's,  and  Rodman's  divisions,  and 
Cox's  Kanawha  division,  was  intrusted 
with  the  difficult  task  of  carrying  the 
bridge  across  the  Antietam,  near  Rohr- 
back's  farm,  and  assaulting  the  enemy's 
right,  the  order  having  been  communicated 
to  him  at  ten  A.  M.  The  valley  of  the 
Antietam,  at  and  near  the  bridge,  is  nar- 
row, with  high  banks.  On  the  right  of 
the  stream  the  bank  is  wooded,  and  com- 
mands the  approaches  both  to  the  bridge 
and  the  ford.  The  steep  slopes  of  the 
bank  were  lined  with  rifle-pits  and  breast- 
works of  rails  and  stones.  These,  together 
with  the  woods,  were  filled  with  the  enemy's 
infantry,  while  their  batteries  completely 
commanded  and  enfiladed  the  bridge  and 
ford  and  their  approaches.  The  advance  of 
the  troops  brought  on  an  obstinate  and  san- 
guinary contest,  and  from  the  great  natu- 
ral advantages  of  the  position,  it  was 
nearly  one  o'clock  before  the  heights  011 
the  right  bank  were  carried.  At  about 
three  o'clock,  p.  M.,  the  corps  again  ad- 
vanced, and  with  success,  driving  the 
enemy  before  it,  and  pushing  nearly  to 
Sharpsburg,  while  the  left,  after  a  hard 
encounter,  also  compelled  the  enemy  to  re- 
tire before  it.  The  enemy  here,  however, 
were  speedily  re-enforced,  and  with  over- 
whelming masses.  New  batteries  of  their 
artillery,  also,  were  brought  up  and  opened. 
It  became  evident  that  our  force  was  not 
sufficient  to  enable  the  advance  to  reach 
the  town,  and  the  order  was  given  to  retire 
to  the  cover  of  the  hill,  which  was  taken 
from  the  enemy  earlier  in  the  afternoon. 

Of  these  brilliant  movements,  thus  so 
briefly  referred  to  by  General  McClellan, 


638 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


a  most  graphic  and  admirable  account  was 
furnished  by  Mr.  Smalley,  a  brilliant 
writer  and  an  eye-witness,  for  the  New 
York  Tribune,  a  portion  of  which  is  here 
transcribed. 

After  describing  the  gloomy  condition 
of  the  federal  troops  on  the  right  at  one 
o'clock,  Mr.  Smalley  says  •  All  that  had 
been  gained  in  front  had  been  lost !  The 
enemy's  batteries,  which,  if  advanced  and 
served  vigorously,  might  have  made  sad 
work  with  the  closely-massed  troops,  were 
fortunately  either  partially  disabled  or 
short  of  ammunition.  Sumner  was  confi- 
dent that  he  could  hold  his  own,  but  an- 


other  advance  was  out  of  the  question. 
The  enemy,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  to 
be  too  much  exhausted  to  attack.  At  this 
crisis  Franklin  came  up  with  fresh  troops 
and  formed  on  the  left.  Slocum,  c6m- 
manding  one  division  of  the  corps,  was 
sent  forward  along  the  slopes  lying  under 
the  first  ranges  of  rebel  hills,  while  Smith, 
commanding  the  other  division,  was  or- 
dered to  retake  the  cornfields  and  woods 
which  all  day  had  been  so  hotly  contested. 
It  was  done  in  the  handsomest  style.  His 
Maine  and  Vermont  regiments  and  the 
rest  went  forward  on  the  run,  and,  cheer- 
ing as  they  went,  swept  like  an  avalanche 
through  the  cornfields,  fell  upon  the  woods, 
cleared  them  in  ten  minutes,  and  held 
them.  They  were  not  again  retaken. 


The  field  and  its  ghastly  harvest  which 
the  reaper  had  gathered  in  these  fatal 
hours  finally  remained  with  us.  Four 
times  it  had  been  lost  and  won. 

The  splendid  feat  of  Burnside  holding 
the  hill  was  one  of  the  memorable  deeds  on 
that  day  of  earnest  action.  At  four  o'clock 
(says  Mr.  Smalley,)  McClellan  sent  simul- 
taneous orders  to  Burnside  and  Franklin  ; 
to  the  former  to  advance  and  carry  the 
batteries  in  his  front  at  all  hazards  and  at 
any  cost ;  to  the  latter,  to  carry  the  woods 
next  in  front  of  him  to  the  right,  which 
the  rebels  still  held.  The  order  to  Frank- 
lin, however,  was  practically  counter- 
manded, in  consequence  of  a  message  from 
General  Sumner,  that  if  Franklin  went  on 
and  was  repulsed,  his  own  corps  was  not 
yet  sufficiently  reorganized  to  be  depended 
on  as  a  reserve.  Burnside  obeyed  the 
order  most  gallantly.  Getting  his  troops 
well  in  hand,  and  sending  a  portion  of  his 
artillery  to  the  front,  he  advanced  them 
with  rapidity  and  the  most  determined 
vigor,  straight  up  the  hill  in  front,  on  top 
of  which  the  confederates  had  maintained 
their  most  dangerous  battery.  The  move- 
ment was  in  plain  view  of  McClellan's 
position,  and  as  Franklin  on  the  other  side 
sent  his  batteries  into  the  field  about  the 
same  time,  the  battle  seemed  to  open  in 
all  directions  with  greater  activity  than 
ever.  The  fight  in  the  ravine  was  in  full 
progress,  the  batteries  which  Porter  sup- 
ported were  firing  with  new  vigor,  Frank- 
lin was  blazing  away  on  the  right,  and 
every  hill-top,  ridge,  and  piece  of  woods 
along  the  "whole  line  was  crested  and  veiled 
with  white  clouds  of  smoke.  All  day  had 
been  clear  and  bright  since  the  early 
cloudy  morning,  and  now  this  whole  mag- 
nificent, unequaled  scene,  shone  with  the 
splendor  of  an  afternoon  September  sun. 
Four  miles  of  battle,  its  glory  all  visible, 
its  horrors  all  veiled,  the  fate  of  the  re- 
public hanging  on  the  hour — could  any 
one  be  insensible  to  its  grandeur  ?  There 
are  two  hills  on  the  left  of  the  road,  the 
furthest  the  lowest.  The  rebels  have  bat- 
teries on  both.  Burnside  is  ordered  to  carry 
the  nearest  to  him,  which  is  the  furthest 


BATTLE  OF  AKTIETAM,  AID. 


539 


from  the  road.  His  guns  opening  first 
from  this  new  position  iu  front,  soon 
entirely  controlled  and  silenced  the  ene- 
my's artillery.  The  infantry  came  on  at 
once,  moving  rapidly  and  steadily  up, 
long  dark  lines,  and  broad  dark  masses, 
being  plainly  visible  without  a  glass  as 
the}7  moved  over  the  green  hill-side. 
Underneath  was  a  tumult  of  wagons, 
guns,  horses,  and  men  flying  at  speed 
down  the  road.  Blue  flashes  of  smoke 
burst  now  and  then  among  them,  a 
horse  or  a  man  or  a  half-dozen  went 
down,  and  then  the  whirlwind  swept  on. 
The  hill  was  carried,  but  could  it  be 
held?  The  rebel  columns,  before  seen 
moving  to  the  left,  increased  their  pace. 
The  guns,  on  the  hill  above,  sent  an 
angry  tempest  of  shell  down  among 
Burnside's  guns  and  men.  He  had 
formed  his  columns  apparently  in  the 
near  angles  of  two  fields  bordering  the 
road — high  ground  about  them  every- 
where  except  in  rear.  In  another  mo- 
ment  a  rebel  battle-line  appears  on  the 
brow  of  the  ridge  above  them,  moves 
swiftly  down  in  the  most  perfect  order, 
and  though  met  by  incessant  discharges 
of  musketry,  of  which  we  plainly  see 
the  flashes,  does  not  fire  a  gun.  White 
spaces  show  where  men  are  falling,  but 
they  close  up  instantly,  and  still  the 
line  advances.  The  brigades  of  Burn- 
side  are  in  heavy  column  ;  they  will  not 
give  way  before  a  bayonet  charge  in  line. 
The  rebels  think  twice  before  they  dash 
into  these  hostile  masses.  There  is  a 
halt ;  the  rebel  left  gives  way  and  scat- 
ters over  the  field;  the  rest  stand  fast 
and  fire.  More  infantry  comes  up ; 
Burnside  is  outnumbered,  flanked,  com- 
pelled to  yield  the  hill  he  took  so  bravely. 
His  position  is  no  longer  one  of  attack ; 
he  defends  himself  with  unfaltering 
firmness,  but  he  sends  to  McClellan  for 
help.  McClellan's  glass  for  the  last  half 
hour  has  seldom  been  turned  away  from 
the  left.  He  sees  clearly  enough  that 
Burnside  is  pressed — needs  no  messen- 
ger to  tell  him  that.  His  face  grows 
darker  with  anxious  thought.  Look- 


540 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


ing  down  into  the  valley,  where  fifteen 
thousand  troops  are  lying,  he  turns  a  half- 
questioning  look  on  Fitz  John  Porter, 
who  stands  by  his  side,  gravely  scan- 
ning the  field.  They  are  Porter's  troops 
below,  are  fresh,  and  only  impatient  to 
share  in  this  fight.  But  Porter  slowly 
shakes  his  head,  and  one  may  believe  that 
the  same  thought  is  passing  through  the 
minds  of  both  generals — 

"  They  are  the  only  reserves  of  the 
army  ;  they  cannot  be  spared." 

McClellan  remounts  his  horse,  and  with 
Porter  and  a  dozen  officers  of  his  staff  rides 
away  to  the  left  in  Burnside's  direction. 
Sykes  meets  them  on  the  road — a  good 
soldier,  whose  opinion  is  worth  taking. 
The  three  generals  talk  briefly  together. 
It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  moment  has  come 
when  everything  may  turn  on  one  order 


GEXERAL  "STONEWALL"  JACKSON. 

given  or  withheld,  when  the  history  of  the 
battle  is  only  to  be  written  in  thoughts 
and  purposes  and  words  of  the  General. 
Burnside's  messenger  rides  up.  His  mes- 
sage is — 

"  I  want  troops  and  guns.  If  you  do 
not  spare  them,  I  cannot  hold  my  position 
for  half  an  hour." 

McClellan's  only  answer  for  the  moment 
is  a  glance  at  the  western  sky.  Then  he 
turns  and  says  very  slowly — 

"  Tell  General  Burnside  that  this  is  the 
battle  of  the  war.  He  must  hold  his 
ground  till  dark  at  any  cost.  I  will  send 
him  Miller's  battery.  I  can  do  nothing 
more.  I  have  no  infantry." 

Then,  as  the  messenger  was  riding 
away,  he  called  him  back : 


"  Tell  him  if  he  can  not  hold  his  ground, 
then  the  bridge  to  the  last  man  ! — always 
the  bridge !  If  the  bridge  is  lost,  all  is 
lost." 

The  sun  was  already  down  ;  not  half  an 
hour  of  daylight  was  left.  Till  Burnside's 
message  came,  it  had  seemed  plain  to  every 
one  that  the  battle  could  not  be  finished 
to-day.  None  suspected  how  near  was  the 
peril  of  defeat,  of  sudden  attack  on  ex- 
hausted forces — how  vital  to  the  safety  of 
the  army  and  the  nation  were  those  fifteen 
thousand  waiting  troops  of  Fitz  John  Por- 
ter in  the  hollow.  But  the  rebels  halted 
instead  of  pushing  on ;  their  vindictive  can7 
nonade  died  away  as  the  light  faded.  Be 
fore  it  was  quite  dark,  the  battle  was  over. 

With  the  day,  (says  the  official  report  o» 
the  commanding  general,)  closed  this 
memorable  battle,  in  which,  perhaps, 
nearly  two  hundred  thousand  men  were 
for  fourteen  hours  engaged  in  combat. 
We  had  attacked  the  enemy  in  position, 
driven  them  from  their  line  on  one  flank, 
and  secured  a  footing  within  it  on  the 
other.  Under  the  depression  of  previous 
reverses,  we  had  achieved  a  victory  over  an 
adversary  invested  with  the  prestige  of 
former  successes  and  inflated  with  a  recent 
triumph.  Our  forces  slept  that  night  con- 
querors on  a  field  won  by  their  valor,  and 
covered  with  the  dead  and  wounded  of  the 
enemy. 

This  has  been  called  the  bloodiest  day 
that  America  ever  saw,  and  the  fighting 
was  followed  by  the  most  appalling  sights 
upon  the  battle-field.  Never,  perhaps,  was 
the  ground  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  and  the  dying  in  greater  numbers  or 
in  more  shocking  attitudes.  The  faces  of 
those  who  had  fallen  in  the  battle  were, 
after  more  than  a  day's  exposure,  so  black 
that  no  one  would  ever  have  suspected 
that  they  were  once  white.  All  looked 
like  negroes,  and  as  they  lay  in  piles  where 
they  had  fallen,  one  upon  another,  they 
filled  the  bystanders  with  a  sense  of  horror. 
In  the  road,  they  lay  scattered  all  around, 
and  the  stench  which  arose  from  the 
bodies  decomposing  in  the  sun  was  almost 
unendurable.  Passing  along  the  turnpike 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


541 


from  Sharpsburg  to  Hagerstown,  that 
night,  it  required  the  greatest  care  to  keep 
one's  horse  from  trampling  upon  the  dead, 
so  thickly  were  they  strewn  around.  Along 
the  line  for  not  more  than  a  single  mile,  at 
least  one  thousand  five  hundred  there  lay 
unburied. 

Such  a  spectacle  was  in  keeping,  of 
course,  with  the  terrible  carnage  incident 
to  such  a  prolonged  and  constant  contest 
between  two  such  vast  armies.  The  loss 
of  the  union  forces  in  this  battle  was, 
according  to  General  McClellan,  two  thou- 
sand and  ten  killed,  nine  thousand  four 
hundred  and  sixteen  wounded,  and  one 
thousand  and  forty-three  missing ;  and 
their  total  loss  in  the  battles  of  the  14th 
and  17th  amounted  to  fourteen  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  ninety-four.  Of  the 
confederates  killed,  about  three  thousand 
were  buried  by  the  unionists,  and  their 


total  loss  in  the  two  battles  was  estimated 
by  General  McClellan  at  four  thousand 
killed,  eighteen  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  forty-two  wounded,  and  five  thousand 
prisoners,  besides  stragglers  sufficient  to 
make  the  number  amount  to  some  thirty 
thousand.  From  the  time  the  union 
troops  first  encountered  the  confederates  in 
Maryland  until  the  latter  were  driven  back 
into  Virginia,  (says  McClellan,)  we  cap- 
tured thirteen  guns,  seven  caissons,  nine 
limbers,  two  field  forges,  two  caisson  bod- 
ies, thirty-nine  colors,  and  one  signal  flacr; 
the  union  army  lost  neither  gun  nor  color. 


The  confederates  also  iost  three  of  their 
bravest  generals,  Starke,  Branch,  and 
Anderson. 

General  Keno's  death  was  a  severe  blow 
to  the  union  army.  He  had  been  most 
active  all  day,  fearing  no  danger,  and 
appearing  to  be  everywhere  at  the  same 
time.  Safe  up  to  seven  o'clock,  no  one 
dreamed  of  such  a  disaster  as  was  to  hap- 
pen. He,  with  his  staff,  was  standing  a 
little  back  of  the  wood,  on  a  field,  the  con- 
federate forces  being  directly  in  front.  A 
body  of  his  troops  were  just  before  him, 
and  at  this  point  the  fire  of  the  confeder- 
ates was  directed.  A  minie-ball  struck 
him  and  went  through  his  body.  He  fell, 
and,  from  the  first,  appeared  to  have  a 
knowledge  that  he  could  not  survive  the 
•wound  he  had  received.  He  was  instantly 
carried,  with  the  greatest  care,  to  the  rear, 
followed  by  a  number  of  the  officers,  and 
attended  by  the  division  surgeon,  Doctor 
Cutter.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  he  was  laid 
under  a  tree ;  he  died  without  the  least 
movement,  a  few  minutes  after.  The 
grief  of  the  officers  at  this  calamity  was 
heart-rending.  The  old  soldier,  just  come 
from  the  scene  of  carnage,  with  death  star- 
ing him  in  the  face  on  every  side,  here 
knelt  and  wept  like  a  child ;  indeed,  no 
eye  was  dry  among  those  present.  Thus 
died  one  of  the  bravest  generals  that  was 
in  the  service  of  his  country,  and  the  intel- 
ligence of  his  death  was  received  by  all 
with  the  greatest  sorrow,  as  it  was  well 
known  that  but  few  could  take  the  place 
of  so  able  and  brave  an  officer.  The  com- 
mand of  the  corps  devolved  upon  General 
Cox,  who,  from  that  time,  directed  the 
movements  of  the  army. 

The  fighting  qualities  of  the  southern 
soldiers,  in  this  battle,  may  be  judged  of 
by  the  fact  that  the  Fiftieth  Georgia  regi- 
ment lost  nearly  all  their  commissioned 
officers,  and  that  at  night,  after  the  battle, 
only  fifty-five  men,  of  the  whole  regiment, 
remained  fit  for  duty, — nor  did  they  have 
anything  to  eat  and  drink  for  more  than 
forty-eight  hours.  This  regiment  was 
posted  in  a  narrow  path,  washed  out  into 
a  regular  gully,  and  was  fired  into  by  the 


542 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


unionists  from  the  front,  the  rear  and  left 
flank.  The  men  stood  their  ground  un- 
waveringly, returning  fire  until  nearly 
two-thirds  of  their  number  lay  dead  or 
wounded  in  that  lane.  Out  of  two  hun- 
dred and  ten  carried  into  the  fight,  over 
one  hundred  and  twenty-five  were  killed 
and  wounded  in  less  than  twenty  minutes. 
The  slaughter  was  horrible.  When  or- 
dered to  retreat,  the  living  could  scarcely 
extricate  themselves  from  the  dead  and 
wounded  lying  around — a  man  could  have 
walked  from  the  head  of  the  line  to  the 
foot  on  their  bodies.  The  survivors  of  the 
regiment  retreated  very  orderly  back  to 
where  General  Anderson's  brigade  rested. 
The  brigade  suffered  terribly.  James's 
South  Carolina  battalion  was  nearly  anni- 
hilated. 

There  were  not  wanting  also,  incidents 
of  that  class  which  show  the  qualities  of 
ludicrousness  and  cunning  in  human  na- 
ture, as,  for  instance,  the  following: 

The  New  York  One  Hundred  and  Sev- 
enth regiment  supported  Cotheren's  bat- 
tery ;  and,  during  the  hottest  part  of  the 
fight,  the  confederates  massed  themselves 
opposite  the  union  front,  for  an  assault  on 
Cotheren's  position.  The  battery  was 
short  of  ammunition,  and  so  reserved  their 
fire,  while  throughout  the  whole  field  there 
came  a  full  in  the  tumult.  The  confeder- 
ates advanced  in  a  solid  mass,  with  a  pre- 
cision of  movement  perfectly  beautiful. 
It  was  a  moment  which  tried  the  nerves  of 
the  bravest.  In  the  meantime,  one  of  the 
lads, — a  noted  sporting  character — becom- 
ing quite  interested  in  the  affair,  had 
climbed  a  rock  where  he  could  view  the 
whole  scene.  He  occupied  the  place,  un- 
mindful of  the  bullets  which  were  buzzing 
like  bees  all  around.  The  confederates 
came  on  until  the  unionists  could  see  their 
faces,  and  then  Cotheren  poured  the  canis- 
ter into  them.  The  advancing  column 
was  literally  torn  to  pieces  by  the  fire. 
At  this,  the  lad  on  the  rock  became  almost 
frantic  in  his  demonstrations  of  delight, 
and  as  one  of  the  battery  sections  sent  a 
shrapnel  which  mowed  down  in  an  instant 
a  long  row  of  confederates,  he  swung  his 


cap,  and,  in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  by 
the  flying  enemy,  shouted  out,  "  Bull-e-e- 
e-e  !  Set  'em  up  on  the  other  alley  !  " 

General  Sumner  had  a  son,  a  captain  on 
his  staff,  who  was  but  twent3'-one  years  of 
age.  During  the  battle,  when  the  bullets 
were  whistling  around  the  general's  ears, 
he  found  it  necessary  to  send  the  young 
man  upon  a  mission  of  duty  to  a  certain 
portion  of  the  field.  After  giving  him  the 
requisite  instructions,  the  general  em- 
braced him  and  said,  "  Good-by,  Sammy." 
"  Good-by,  father,"  was  the  response,  and 
the  captain  rode  forth  upon  his  mission. 
On  his  return  from  his  perilous  errand,  the 
fond  father  grasped  his  hand,  with  the 
simple  remark,  "How  d'ye  do,  Sammy?" 
The  spectators  of  this  filial  scene  were 
much  affected. 

A  union  soldier  belonging  to  a  New 
York  regiment  was  wounded  in  the  should- 
ers. After  dark,  missing  his  regiment,  he 
became  lost  in  the  woods,  and  went  in  the 
direction  of  the  enemy.  Seeing  a  party  of 
men  ahead,  he  called  out,  "  What  regiment 
do  you  belong  to  ? "  They  answered, 
"  The  Third  South  Carolina.  What  do  you 
belong  to  ?  "  "  The  Tenth  Virginia,"  was 
the  ready  and  apt  reply  ;  saying  which,  he 
moved  off  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
soon  joined  some  union  soldiers.  His  wits 
saved  him. 

The  report  of  this  battle  by  Mr.  Smal- 
ley,  in  the  New  York  Tribune,  was  pro- 
nounced by  General  Hooker,  in  a  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  George  Wilkes  (himself  an 
accomplished  journalist),  a  perfect  repro- 
duction of  the  scene  and  all  its  incidents. 
In  reply  to  a  question  by  Mr.  Wilkes,  if 
he  knew  who  the  Tribune  reporter  was, 
General  Hooker  said :  "  I  saw  him  first 
upon  the  battle-field,  when  we  were  in  the 
hottest  portion  of  the  fight,  early  in  the 
morning.  My  attention  was  then  attracted 
to  a  civilian,  who  sat  upon  his  horse,  in 
advance  of  my  whole  staff  ;  avid  though  he 
was  in  the  hottest  of  the  fire,  and  the  shot 
and  shell  were  striking  and  sputtering 
around  us  like  so  much  hail,  he  sat  gazing 
on  the  strife  as  steady  and  undisturbed  as 
if  he  were  in  a  quiet  theater,  looking  at  a 


BATTLE  OF  ANTIETAM,  MD. 


543 


scene  upon  the  stage.  •  In  all  the  experi- 
ence which  I  have  had  of  war,  I  never  saw 
the  most  experienced  and  veteran  soldier 
exhibit  more  tranquil  fortitude  and  un- 
shaken valor  than  was  exhibited  by  that 
young  man.  I  was  concerned  at  the  need- 
less risk  which  he  invited,  and  told  one  of 
my  aids  to  order  him  in  our  rear.  Pres- 
ently, all  my  aids  had  left  me,  on  one  serv- 
ice and  another ;  whereupon,  turning  to 
give  an  order,  I  found  no  one  but  this 
young  stranger  at  my  side.  I  then  asked 
him  if  he  would  oblige  me  by  bearing  a 
dispatch  to  General  McClellan,  and  by 
acting  as  my  aid,  until  some  of  my  staff 
should  come  up.  He  rode  off  with  alacrity, 


through  a  most  exposed  position,  returned 
with  the  answer,  and  served  me  as 
an  aid  through  the  remainder  of  the 
fight,  till  I  was  carried  from  the  ground." 
"  His  name,  General  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Wilkes. 
"He  was  a  young  man,  recently  from 
college,  named  George  W.  Smalley, 
and  I  am  writing  to  him  now."  No 
one  will  regard  General  Hooker's  opin- 
ion of  Mr.  Smalley  as  any  too  high. 
Similar,  too,  in  descriptive  ability  and 
power,  was  the  war  correspondence  of 
such  men  as  Knox,  Richardson,  Conying- 
ham,  Coffin,  Browne,  Taylor,  Bickham, 
Crounse,  Colburn,  Davis,  Keid,  and  some 
others. 


LXVI. 

PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,  AS  A  WAR  MEAS- 
URE, BY  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN.— 1863. 


More  than  Three  Millions,  in  Bondage  at  the  South,  Declared  Forever  Free. — Most  Important  Amer- 
ican State  Paper  Since  July  4th,  1776. — Pronounced,  by  the  President,  "  the  Great  Event  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century." — The  Whole  System  of  Slavery  Finally  Swept  from  the  Republic,  by  Vic- 
tories in  the  Field  and  by  Constitutional  Amendments. — Mr.  Lincoln's  Views  on  Slavery. — Opposed 
to  all  Unconstitutional  Acts. — His  Orders  to  Union  Generals. — Prohibits  the  Arming  of  Negroes. — 
Alarming  Progress  of  Events. — The  Great  Exigency  at  Last  — Slavery  versus  the  Union. — Solemn 
and  Urgent  Alternative. — Emancipation  Under  the  War  Power. — Preparation  of  the  Great  Document 
— Its  Submission  to  the  Cabinet. — Opinions  and  Discussions — Singular  Reason  for  Delay. — Mr.  Lin- 
coln's Vow  to  God.— Waiting  for  a  Union  Triumph. — Decided  by  the  Battle  of  Antietam. — Final 
Adoption  of  the  Measure. — Mr.  Carpenter's  Admirable  Narrative. — Public  Reception  of  the  Procla- 
mation.— Promulgation  at  the  South. —  Scenes  of  Joy  Among  the  Freedmen. — Enfranchisement 
Added  to  Freedom. 


"  And  upon  this  act.  sincerely  believed  to  be  an  act  of  justice,  warranted  by  the  Constitution,  upon  military  necessity,  I  Invoke  the  c 
atoerate  judgment  of  mankind,  and  the  gracious  favor  of  Almighty  God."— Til  E  PROCLAMATION. 


EALOUSLY  cherishing  the  humane  personal  wish,  "that  all  men  every- 
where might  be  free," — as  expressed  by  himself  in  one  of  his  most  mem- 
orable political  letters, — and  inflexibly  objecting  to  the  introduction  of 
slavery  into  the  new  national  territories,  President  Lincoln,  nevertheless, 
on  every  occasion  avowed  his  opposition  to  all  unconstitutional  meas- 
ures of  interference  with  that  system,  as  it  existed  in  the  States  of  the 
South.     Only  under  the  stupendous  exigency  precipitated  upon  him 
and  upon  the  country,  by  the  war  inaugurated  at  Fort  Sumter,  and 
now  carried  on  with" such  direful  loss  of  blood  and  treasure  for  two  long 
years,  for  the  destruction  of  the  Union,  did  he  avail  himself  of  the  high 
and  solemn  prerogative  of  his   position,   as   the   sworn   protector   and 
defender  of  the  nation,  to  decree,  substantially,  the  utter  extinction  of 
slavery  throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land. 

It  was  a  war  measure,  done  "  upon  military  necessity,"  and  in  the 
grave  performance  of  which  President  Lincoln  said :  "  I  could  not  feel 
that,  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  I  had  even  tried  to  preserve  the  Constitu- 
tion, if,  to  preserve  slavery,  or  any  minor  matter,  I  should  permit  the 
wreck  of  government,  country,  and  constitution  altogether.  When,  early 
in  the  war,  General  Fremont  attempted  military  emancipation,  I  forbade 
it,  because  I  did  not  then  think  it  an  indispensable  necessity.  When,  a 
little  later,  General  Cameron,  then  secretary  of  war,  suggested  the  arm- 
ing of  the  blacks,  I  objected,  because  I  did  not  yet  think  it  an  indispen- 
sible  necessity.  When,  still  later,  General  Hunter  attempted  military 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


emancipation,  I  again  forbade  it,  because 
I  did  not  yet  think  the  indispensable 
necessity  had  come.  When,  in  March  and 
May  and  July,  1862,  I  made  earnest  and 
successive  appeals  to  the  border  states  to 
favor  compensated  emancipation,  I  believed 
the  indispensable  necessity  for  military 
emancipation  and  arming  the  blacks  would 
come,  unless  averted  by  that  measure. 
They  declined  the  proposition ;  and  I 
was,  in  my  best  judgment,  driven  to  the 
alternative  of  either  surrendering  the 
Union,  and  with  it  the  Constitution,  or  of 
laying  strong  hand  upon  the  colored  ele- 
ment. I  chose  the  latter."  It  will  thus 
be  seen  that,  so  far  from  being  rash  or 
aggressive  in  his  anti-slavery  policy,  he 
favored  no  step  in  that  direction,  until 
driven  to  it  as  a  last  and  remediless  alter- 
native, from  which  there  seemed  no  possi- 
ble escape. 


Singularly  enough,  this  great  measure 
— involving  as  mighty  a  moral,  social,  and 
political  revolution  as  was  ever  accom- 
plished in  any  age  or  in  any  country — was 
distinctly  expounded  and  foreshadowed  by 
John  Quincy  Adams,  in  a  remarkable 
debate  which  took  place  in  the  lower  house 
of  congress,  in  1842,  and  in  the  course  of 
which  he  said  :  "  I  believe  that,  so  long  as 
the  slave  states  are  able  to  sustain  their 
institutions,  without  going  abroad  or  call- 
ing upon  other  parts  of  the  Union  to  aid 
them  or  act  on  the  subject,  so  long  I  will 
consent  never  to  interfere.  I  have  said 


this ;  and  I  repeat  it ;  but,  if  they  come  to 
the  free  states  and  say  to  them,  '  You  must 
help  us  to  keep  down  our  slaves,  you  must 
aid  us  in  an  insurrection  and  a  civil  war,' 
then  I  say  that,  with  that  call,  comes  a  full 
and  plenary  power  to  this  house,  and  to  the 
senate,  over  the  whole  subject.  It  is  a 
war  power;  I  say  it  is  a  war  power ;  and 
when  your  country  is  actually  in  war, 
whether  it  be  a  war  of  invasion  or  a  war 
of  insurrection,  congress  has  power  to  carry 
on  the  war,  and  must  carry  it  on  according 
to  the  laws  of  war ;  and,  by  the  laws  of  war, 
an  invaded  country  has  all  its  laws  and 
municipal  institutions  swept  by  the  board, 
and  martial  law  takes  the  place  of  them. 
This  power  in  congress  has,  perhaps,  never 
been  called  into  exercise  under  the  present 
constitution  of  the  United  States.  But, 
when  the  laws  of  war  are  in  force,  what, 
I  ask,  is  one  of  those  laws  ?  It  is  this : 
that  when  a  country  is  invaded,  and  two 
hostile  armies  are  set  in  martial  array,  the 
commanders  of  both  armies  have  power  to 
emancipate  all  the  slaves  in  the  invaded 
territory."  In  proof  of  the  correctness  of 
his  assertion,  Mr.  Adams  cited  the  well- 
known  historical  case  of  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  Colombia,  first  by  Murillo,  the 
Spanish  general,  and  subsequently  by 
Bolivar,  the  American  general,  in  each  case 
as  a  military  act,  and  observed  and  main- 
tained to  this  day. 

Though  the  great  American  Proclama- 
tion of  Emancipation  did  not  appear  until 
January  1, 1863,  President  Lincoln's  mind 
had  for  some  months  previously  been  drift- 
ing in  the  direction  of  some  such  act.  Aa 
he  himself  expressed  it,  everything  was 
going  wrong — the  nation  seemed  to  have 
put  forth  about  its  utmost  efforts,  and  he 
really  didn't  know  what  more  to  do,  unless 
he  did  this.  Accordingly,  he  prepared  a  pre- 
liminary proclamation,  nearly  in  the  form 
in  which  it  subsequently  appeared,  called 
the  cabinet  together,  and  read  it  to  them, 
•with  the  following  result,  as  reported: 

Mr.  Montgomery  Blair  was  startled. 
"  If  you  issue  that  proclamation,  Mr.  Pres- 
ident," he  exclaimed,  "you  will  lose  every 
one  of  the  fall  elections." 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION 


Mr.  Seward,  on  the  other  hand,  said,  "I 
approve  of  it,  Mr.  President,  just  as  it 
stands.  I  approve  of  it  in  principle,  and 
I  approve  the  policy  of  issuing  it.  I  oiilj1 
object  to  the  time.  Send  it  out  now,  on 
the  heels  of  our  late  disasters,  and  it  will 
be  construed  as  the  convulsive  struggle  of 
a  drown  ing  man.  To  give  it  proper  weight, 
you  should  reserve  it  until  after  some  vic- 
tory." The  president  assented  to  Mr. 
Seward's  view,  and  held  the  document  in: 
reserve.  It  appeared  to  the  president, 
that  Mr.  Seward's  opinion  was  of  great 
wisdom  and  force. 

Perhaps  no  account  of  this  most  memo- 
rable event  can  be  said  to  equal,  in  relia- 
bility and  graphic  interest,  that  which  is 
furnished  by  Mr.  F.  B.  Carpenter,  in  his 
reminiscences  of  "  Six  Months  at  the 
White  House,"  while  employed  there  in 


executing  that  unrivaled  masterpiece  of 
American  historical  painting — the  Procla- 
mation of  Emancipation  —  which,  by  uni- 
versal consent,  has  placed  Mr.  Carpenter's 
.name  second  to  none  on  the  roll  of  eminent 
modern  artists.  Enjoying,  too,  as  he  did, 
the  most  intimate  personal  relations  with 
the  author  of  that  proclamation,  the  infor- 
mation which  he  thus  obtained  from  the 
president's  own  lips,  as  to  its  origin,  dis- 
cussion, and  final  adoption,  must  forever 
be  the  source  from  which,  on  this  subject, 
all  historians  must  draw. 

As  already  stated,  the  opinion  of   the 


secretary  of  state  in  regard  to  the  effect  of 
issuing  such  a  proclamation  at  such  a  time, 
impressed  Mr.  Lincoln  very  strongly.  "  It 
was  an  aspect  of  the  case  that" — said 
President  Lincoln  to  Mr.  Carpenter, — "  in 
all  my  thought  upon  the  subject,  I  had 
entirely  overlooked.  The  result  was  that 
I  put  the  draft  of  the  proclamation  aside, 
as  you  do  your  sketch  for  a  picture,  wait- 
ing for  a  victory.  From  time  to  time  I 
added  or  changed  a  line,  touching  it  up 
here  and  there,  anxiously  watching  the 
progress  of  events.  Well,  the  next  news 
we  had  was  of  Pope's  disaster  at  Bull  Bun. 
Things  looked  darker  than  ever.  Finally, 
came  the  week  of  the  battle  of  Antietam. 
I  determined  to  wait  no  longer.  The  news 
came,  I  think,  on  Wednesday,  that  the 
advantage  was  on  our  side.  I  was  then 
staying  at  the  Soldiers'  Home  (three 
miles  out  of  Washington).  Here  I  fin- 
ished writing  the  second  draft  of  the  pre- 
liminary proclamation ;  came  up  on  Sat- 
urday ;  called  the  cabinet  together  to  hear 
it,  and  it  was  published  the  following 
Monday."  At  the  final  meeting  of  Sep- 
tember 20th,  another  incident  occurred  in 
connection  with  Secretary  Seward.  The 
president  had  written  the  important  part 
of  the  proclamation  in  these  words : — 

"  That,  on  the  first  day  of  January,  in 
the  year  of  our  Lord  one  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  sixty-three,  all  persons  held 
as  slaves  within  any  State  or  designated 
part  of  a  State,  the  people  whereof  shall 
then  be  in  rebellion  against  the  United 
States,  shall  be  then,  thenceforward,  and 
forever  FREE  ;  and  the  Executive  Govern- 
ment^ the  United  States,  including  the 
military  and  naval  authority  thereof,  will 
recognize  the  freedom  of  such  persons,  and 
will  do  no  act  or  acts  to  repress  such  per- 
sons, or  any  of  them,  in  any  efforts  they 
may  make  for  their  actual  freedom." 

"When  I  finished  reading  this  para- 
graph, "resumed  Mr.  Lincoln,  "Mr.  Seward 
stopped  me,  and  said,  '  I  think,  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, that  you  should  insert  after  the  word 
"  recognize,"  in  that  sentence,  the  words 
"  and  maintain." '  I  replied  that  I  had 
already  considered  the  import  of  that  ex- 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


f>47 


pression  in  this  connection,  but  I  had  not 
introduced  it,  because  it  was  not  my  way 
to  promise  what  I  was  not  entirely  sure 
that  I  could  perform,  and  I  was  not  pre- 
pared to  say  that  I  thought  we  were 
exactly  able  to  ' '  maintain  '  this.  But 
Seward  insisted  that  we  ought  to  take  this 
ground,  and  the  words  finally  went  in.  It 
is  a  somewhat  remarkable  fact,"  he  subse- 
quently added,  "that  there  were  just  one 
hundred  days  between  the  dates  of  the  two 
proclamations  issued  upon  the  22d  of  Sep- 
tember and  the  1st  of  January." 


bany,  N.  Y.,  in  1864 ;  it  is  in  the  proper 
handwriting  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  excepting  two 
interlineations  in  pencil,  by  Secretary 
Seward,  and  the  formal  heading  and  end- 
ing, which  were  written  by  the  chief  clerk 
of  the  state  department.  The  final  proc- 
lamation was  signed  on  New  Year's  Day, 
1863.  The  president  remarked  to  Mr. 
Colfax,  the  same  evening,  that  the  signa- 
ture appeared  somewhat  tremulous  and 
uneven.  "  Not,"  said  he,  "  because  of  any 
uncertainty  or  hesitation  on  my  part ;  but 
it  was  just  after  the  public  reception,  and 


The  original  draft  of  the  proclamation 
was  written  upon  one  side  of  four  half- 
sheets  or  official  foolscap.  "  He  flung  down 
upon  the  table  one  day  for  me,"  continues 
Mr.  Carpenter,  "  several  sheets  of  the  same, 
saying,  '  There,  I  believe,  is  some  of  the 
very  paper  which  was  used — if  not,  it  was, 
at  any  rate  just  like  it.' "  The  original  draft 
is  dated  September  22,  1862,  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  Army  Belief  Bazaar,  at  Al- 


three  hours'  hand-shaking  is  not  calculated 
to  improve  a  man's  chirography."  Then 
changing  his  tone,  he  added  :  "  The  south 
had  fair  warning,  that  if  they  did  not 
return  to  their  duty,  I  should  strike  at 
this  pillar  of  their  strength.  The  promise 
must  now  be  kept,  and  I  shall  never  recall 
one  word." 

In  answer  to  a  question  from  Mr.  Car- 
penter, as  to  whether  the  policy  of  eman- 


548 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


cipation  was  not  opposed  by  some  mem- 
bers of  the  cabinet,  the  president  replied  : 
"Nothing  more  than  I  have  stated  to  you. 
Mr.  Blair  thought  we  should  lose  the  fall 
elections,  and  opposed  it  on  that  ground 
only."  "  I  have  understood,"  said  Mr. 
Carpenter,  "that  Secretary  Smith  was  not 
in  favor  of  your  action.  Mr.  Blair  told  me 
that,  when  the  meeting  closed,  he  and  the 
secretary  of  the  interior  went  away  to- 
gether, and  that  the  Jatter  said  to  him, 
that  if  the  president  carried  out  that  pol- 
icy, he  might  count  on  losing  Indiana, 
sure  !  "  "He  never  said  anything  of  the 
kind  to  me,"  responded  the  president. 
"  And  what  is  Mr.  Blair's  opinion  now  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  Oh,"  was  the  prompt  reply, 
"he  proved  right  in  regard  to  the  fall  elec- 
tions, but  he  is  satisfied  that  we  have  since 
gained  more  than  we  lost."  "  I  have  been 
told,"  I  added,  "  that  Judge  Bates  doubted 
the  constitutionality  of  the  proclamation." 
"He  never  expressed  such  an  opinion  in 
my  hearing,"  replied  Mr.  Lincoln;  "no 
member  of  the  cabinet  ever  dissented  from 
the  policy,  in  conversation  with  me." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  statement 
found  very  general  currency  and  credence, 
that,  on  the  proclamation  having  been 
read  to  the  cabinet,  Secretary  Chase  ob- 
jected to  the  appearance  of  a  document  of 
such  momentous  character  without  one 
word  beyond  the  dry  phrases  necessary  to 
convey  its  meaning,  and  finally  proposed 
that  there  should  be  added  to  the  presi- 
dent's draft,  the  sentence — 'And  upon  this 
act,  sincerely  believed  to  be  an  act  of  jus- 
tice, warranted  by  the  constitution,  I 
invoke  the  considerate  judgment  of  man- 
kind, and  the  gracious  favor  of  Almighty 
God.'  The  facts  of  the  case,  however,  as 
learned  by  Mr.  Carpenter  were  these : 
While  the  measure  was  pending,  Mr.  Chase 
submitted  to  the  president  a  draft  of  a 
proclamation  embodying  his  views  of  the 
subject,  and  which  closed  with  the  solemn 
and  appropriate  words  referred  to.  Mr. 
Lincoln  adopted  the  sentence  intact,  as 
Mr.  Chase  wrote  it,  excepting  that  he 
inserted  after  the  word  'constitution,'  the 
words  'upon  military  necessity;'  and  in 


that  form  the  document  went  to  the  world, 
and  to  history. 

Mr.  Carpenter  also  makes  an  interesting 
statement  touching  the  religious  aspect  ot 
Mr.  Lincoln's  mind,  concerning  this  mo- 
mentous matter,  as  follows  :  Mr.  Chase 
told  me  that  at  the  cabinet  meeting,  imme- 
diately after  the  battle  of  Antietam,  and 
just  prior  to  the  September  proclamation, 
the  president  entered  upon  the  business 
before  them,  by  saying  that  "  the  time 
for  the  annunciation  of  the  emancipation 
policy  could  be  no  longer  delayed.  Public 
sentiment,"  he  thought,  "would  sustain  it 
— many  of  his  warmest  friends  and  sup- 
porters demanded  it  —  and  he  had  prom- 
ised his  God  that  he  would  do  it!" 
The  last  part  of  this  was  uttered  in  a  low 
tone,  and  appeared  to  be  heard  by  no  one 
but  Secretary  Chase,  who  was  sitting  near 
him.  He  asked  the  president  if  he  had 
correctly  understood  him.  Mr.  Lincoln 
replied:  "I  made  a  solemn  vow  before 
God,  that  if  General  Lee  was  driven  back 
from  Pennsylvania,  I  would  crown  the 
result  by  the  declaration  of  freedom  to  the 
slaves."  In  February,  1865,  a  few  days 
after  the  passage  of  the  Constitutional 
Amendment,  Mr.  Carpenter  went  to  Wash- 
ington, and  was  received  by  Mr.  Lincoln 
with  the  kindness  and  familiarity  which 
had  characterized  their  previous  inter- 
course. I  said  to  him  at  this  time,  (says 
Mr.  Carpenter,)  that  I  was  very  proud  to 
have  been  the  artist  to  have  first  conceived 
the  design  of  painting  a  picture  commem- 
orative of  the  Act  of  Emancipation ;  that 
subsequent  occurrences  had  only  confirmed 
my  own  first  judgment  of  that  act  as  the 
most  sublime  moral  event  in  our  history. 
"  Yes,"  said  he, — and  never  do  I  remem- 
ber to  have  noticed  in  him  more  earnest- 
ness of  expression  or  manner, — "as  affairs 
have  turned,  it  is  the  central  act  of  my 
administration,  and  the  great  event  of  the 
nineteenth  century.'* 

The  scope  of  this  most  important  state 
paper  ever  issued  since  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  was,  to  give  liberty  to  more 
than  three  millions  of  people. — a  number 
equal  to  the  whole  population  of  the 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION 


550 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


United  States  -when  the  revolutionary 
struggle  with  Great  Britain  commenced, 
and  about  four-fifths  of  the  whole  slave 
population.  The  work  of  emancipation 
throughout  all  the  borders  of  the  land  was 
completed  by  victories  in  the  field,  and  the 
adoption  of  the  Constitutional  Amendment, 
Article  XIII.,  by  which  slavery  was  for- 
ever and  entirely  swept  from  the  Republic. 
The  reception  of  the  proclamation  by 
the  millions  who  were  ranged  on  the  side 
of  their  country,  praying  and  fighting  for 
the  success  of  the  union  cause,  was  warm 
and  enthusiastic,  the  feeling  being  almost 
universally  prevalent  that  the  nation  had 
entered  upon  a  new  and  auspicious  era, 
and  that,  under  such  a  banner,  heaven 
would  crown  our  armies  with  victory,  and 
give  perpetuity  to  our  republic  among  the 
governments  of  the  earth.  Generally,  the 
great  document  was  the  theme  of  earnest 
and  eloquent  discourses  from  the  northern 
pulpits,  the  current  of  the  preachers' 
thoughts  showing  itself  in  the  various  sub- 
jects or  titles  under  which  the  event  was 
discussed,  such  as  'The  Conflict  between 
Despotism  and  Liberty,'  'The  duty  of 
uniting  with  our  whole  energies  in  execut- 
ing the  Emancipation  Edict  of  the  presi- 
dent, to  accomplish,  by  the  blessing  of 
God,  its  beneficent  results,  without  possi- 
bility of  failure,'  'The  Jubilee  of  Free- 
dom,' '  The  Influence  of  Christianity  on 
the  Abolition  of  Slavery,' — these,  though 
but  a  few  among  thousands  elicited  by  the 
proclamation,  indicate  the  hearty  appreci- 
ation of  President  Lincoln's  course  in  issu- 
ing the  decree.  From  countless  pulpits, 
too,  the  momentous  document  was  simply 
read,  without  comment. 
.  Great  public  meetings  of  congratulation 
and  rejoicing  were  held  in  almost  every 
large  town  and  city  in  the  various  north- 
ern states.  At  the  Cooper  Institute,  New 
York,  a  grand  jubilee  came  off,  the  colored 
people  of  that  city  and  of  the  surrounding 
towns  for  many  miles,  gathering  together 
to  do  honor  to  so  great  a  boon  to  their 
race.  The  large  hall  was  completely 
packed,  long  before  the  hour  at  which  the 
proceedings  were  appointed  to  take  place, 


and  multitudes  had  to  be  turned  away 
from  the  feast  of  eloquence  and  music 
which  was  there  enjoyed  for  several  hours. 

Two  days  after  the  issue  of  the  procla- 
mation, a  large  body  of  people  assembled 
before  the  White  House,  in  Washington, 
with  a  band  of  music,  and  called  for  the 
president.  He  appeared,  and  made  an 
address  of  thanks  to  them  for  their  cour- 
tesy, in  which,  alluding  to  the  proclama- 
tion, he  said,  "What  I  did,  I  did  after  a 
very  full  deliberation,  and  under  a  heavy 
and  solemn  sense  of  responsibility.  I  can 
only  trust  in  God  I  have  made  no  mis- 
take." From  the  colored  people  of  Balti- 
more, Mr.  Lincoln  was  the  recipient  of  a 
superb  copy  of  the  Bible,  of  the  largest 
size,  and  bound  in  violet-colored  velvet. 
The  corners  were  bands  of  solid  gold,  and 
the  event  carved  upon  a  plate  also  of  gold, 
not  less  than  one-fourth  of  an  inch  thick. 
Upon  the  left-hand  cover,  was  a  design 
representing  the  president  in  a  cotton- 
field,  knocking  the  shackles  off  the  wrists 
of  a  slave,  who  held  one  hand  aloft  as  if  in- 
voking blessings  upon  the  head  of  his  ben- 
efactor,— at  whose  feet  was  a  scroll  upon 
which  was  written  "Emancipation ;  "  upon 
the  other  cover  was  a  similar  plate,  bear- 
ing the  inscription  :  "  To  Abraham  Lin- 
coln, President  of  the  United  States,  the 
friend  of  Universal  Freedom.  From  the 
loyal  colored  people  of  Baltimore,  as  a 
token  of  respect  and  gratitude.  Baltimore, 
July  4,  1864." 

But  the  greatest  interest  necessarily 
attaches  to  the  reception  which  such  an 
amazing  document  met  with  on  the  part 
of  those  who  were  or  had  recently  been 
slaves.  Although  by  the  terms  of  the 
proclamation,  the  cities  of  Norfolk  and 
Portsmouth,  Va.,  were  excluded  from  its 
operation,  the  slaves  fully  believed  that 
'  Massa  Lincoln '  had  emancipated  them  all ; 
with  this  view,  they  refused  to  work  with- 
out wages,  and,  their  former  masters  ac- 
ceding to  this,  virtual  emancipation  was 
the  result  in  that  region.  On  New  Year's 
day,  the  slaves  of  Norfolk,  Portsmouth, 
and  Gosport,  with  the  African  strangers 
gathered  there,  to  the  number  of  some 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


551 


thousands,  turned  out  en  masse,  and  by 
processions,  speeches,  liymns  and  songs  of 
jubilation,  and  by  other  demonstrations, 
celebrated  what  was  ever  afterward  to  be 
their  Fourth  of  July.  The  exultation  of 
the  slaves  was  great,  and  runny  a  notice- 
able incident  presented  itself.  "Massa," 
said  an  old  woman  to  a  stranger  near  by, 
"  I  have  had  twenty  children.  My  Massa 
and  Missus  sole  'em  all  off;  one  of  my 
gals  was  sole  to  buy  young  Missus  her 
piano.  I  used  to  stop  my  ears  when  I 
heard  her  play  on  dat  ar;  I  thought  I 
heard  niy  chile  a  crying  out  dat  it  was 
bought  wid  her  blood.  Dey  was  all  sole 
off, — I'se  not  got  one  left  to  bury  me. 
But  I'sa  free.'  and  my  ole  heart  is  glad 
agin.  I'll  go  happy  to  my  grave."  In 
one  of  the  colored  churches  in  Norfolk,  the 
preacher  took  for  his  text,  "  Stand  fast, 
therefore,  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  you  free,"  and  with  great  inge- 
nuity, and  without  irreverence,  the 
preacher  showed  how  President  Lincoln, 
in  emancipating  them,  had  stood  in  Christ's 
stead  to  them,  and  how  it  was  now  their 
duty  to  stand  fast,  and  fight  for  the  liberty 
which  he,  under  God,  had  given  them. 
Singular  enough,  there  rose  from  the 
whole  congregation  a  cry,  as  if  with  one 
voice,  "Amen !  glory  be  to  God !  we'll 
fight  till  de  cows'  tails  drop  off!  " 

In  the  Department  of  the  South,  em- 
bracing Port  Royal,  S.  C.,  and  other 
islands,  it  was  very  difficult  to  convince 
the  colored  people  that  they  were  free,  and 
that  the  government,  or  Yankees,  could  be 
in  earnest.  Christmas  was  to  most  of 
them  a  sad  day.  General  Saxton,  there- 
fore, who  spared  no  effort  to  disabuse 
their  minds  and  inspire  them  with  confi- 
dence, issued  his  proclamation  inviting  the 
people  to  assemble  at  the  head-quarters  of 
the  First  South  Carolina  Volunteers,  on 
the  first  of  January.  Missionaries,  min- 
isters, superintendents  and  teachers,  offi- 
cers and  privates,  joined  heartily  in  the 
gathering.  The  word  went  out  far  and 
near,  but  the  people  were  suspicious. 
Mischievous  01133  had  told  them  it  was  a 
trap  to  fores  them  into  the  army ;  others 


that  they  weie  to  be  collected  on  steam- 
boats that  would  run  them  to  Cuba ;  oth- 
ers that  they  were  to  be  got  away  from 
their  homes  and  sent  into  exile.  But,  at 
an  early  hour  of  the  sublimely  beautiful 
day,  the  people  began  to  arrive  at  the 
camping-ground,  and,  despite  their  fears, 
thousands  were  there.  The  proceedings 
opened  with  prayer  and  music,  after  which, 
Judge  Brisbane,  of  "Wisconsin,  but  a  son 
of  South  Carolina  who,  twenty-five  years 
previously,  set  all  his  slaves  free,  read  the 
emancipation  act  amidst  the  jubilant 
shouts  of  the  vast  multitude;  and  when, 
succeeding  this,  the  proclamation  of  Gen- 
eral Saxton  was  read,  declaring  that  the 
great  act  should  be  enforced,  twelve  deaf- 
ening cheers  burst  forth  from  the  thou- 
sands of  grateful  and  joyous  hearts  to 
whom  the  good  tidings  of  liberty  and  pro- 
tection had  thus  come.  An  original  ode 
was  then  sung  to  the  tune  of  '  Scots  wha' 
ha'  wi'  Wallace  bled,"  and  then  came  the 
crowning  feature  of  the  day,  the  presenta- 
tion by  the  Rev.  Mr.  French  of  a  splendid 
silk  flag,  with  the  embroidered  inscription: 

"  To  the  First  South  Carolina  Regiment. 
The  year  of  jubilee  has  come." 

It  was  a  very  elegant  flag,  a  gift  from 
Doctor  Cheever's  church  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  As  it  passed  from  the  hands 
of  Mr.  French,  the  negroes  struck  up  the 
national  air,  "  My  country,  'tis  of  thee," 
with  fine  effect.  Colonel  Higginson,  who 
had  received  the  flag,  stood  waiting  his 
time  to  reply,  with  the  golden  tassels  in 
his  hands.  After  an  eloquent  speech  by 
the  colonel,  he  called  the  sergeant  of  Com- 
pany A,  "Prince  Rivers,"  and  a  corporal 
of  another  company,  named  Sutton,  both 
black  men,  and,  handing  over  the  flag 
which  had  been  presented,  called  upon 
both  to  speak,  which  they  did  with  great 
acceptance.  Other  exercises  of  rejoicing 
took  place,  and  then  attention  was  paid  to 
the  physical  wants  of  the  happy  throng. 
For  this  purpose,  ten  beeves  had  been 
slaughtered  and  were  roasting  in  their 
pits ;  and  these,  with  several  hundred  gal- 
lons of  molasses  and  water, — a  favorite 
beverage  of  the  negroes, — and  a  full  supply 


652 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


of  hard  bread,  awaited  the  hungry  expect- 
ants. Thus  ended  the  grand  celebration 
of  the  emancipation  of  the  slaves  of  South 
Carolina. 

The  observance  of  the  event  in  other 
parts  of  the  south,  wherever  the  authority 
of  the  union  forces  was  present  to  permit 
it,  was  so  similar  in  its  character  and 
enthusiasm  to  what  has  already  been  nar- 
rated, that  it  is  unnecessary  here  to  extend 
the  descriptions.  By  the  army  and  its 
officers,  with  here  and  there  an  exception, 
the  proclamation  was  regarded  as  an  act  to 
which  things  had  long  been  tending,  and 
which,  under  the  circumstances  of  peril  in 
which  the  union  had  so  long  been  placed, 
was  inevitable.  Of  course,  no  such  proc- 
lamation, in  time  of  war,  could  have  any 
weight  in  the  section  of  country  at  which 
it  was  aimed,  excepting  as  the  union  mili- 
tary successes  made  it  effective.  Those 
successes  in  due  time  reached  every  por- 
tion of  the  south,  and  the  fetters  of  every 
bondman  on  American  soil  were  thus 
broken.  Congress  subsequently  passed  an 
amendment  to  the  constitution,  forever 
prohibiting  slavery  in  any  portion  of  the 
republic,  and  this  amendment,  on  being 
ratified  by  the  requisite  number  of  states, 
became  a  part  of  the  organic  law  of  the 
land. 

The  original  draft  of  the  emancipation 
proclamation,  in  the  president's  handwrit- 
ing, was  presented  by  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the 
great  Northwestern  Sanitary  Fair,  held  at 
Chicago,  in  the  autumn  of  18C3.  The  fol- 
lowing letter  accompanied  the  gift: 

EXECUTIVE  MANSION, 
WASHINGTON,  October  26,  1863. 

To  the  Ladies  having  in  charge  the 
Northwestern  Fair  for  the  Sanitary  Com- 
mission, Chicago,  Illinois: — 

According  to  the  request  made  in  your 
behalf,  the  original  draft  of  the  emancipa- 
tion proclamation  is  herewith  enclosed. 
The  formal  words  at  the  top,  and  the  con- 
clusion, except  the  signature,  you  perceive, 
are  not  in  my  handwriting.  They  were 
written  at  the  State  Department,  by  whom 
I  know  not.  The  printed  part  was  cut 


from  a  copy  of  the  preliminary  proclama- 
tion and  pasted  on,  merely  to  save  writing. 
I  had  some  desire  to  retain  the  paper; 
but  if  it  shall  contribute  to  the  relief  or 
comfort  of  the  soldier,  that  will  be  better. 
Your  obedient  servant, 

A.  LINCOLN. 

This  chief  treasure  of  that  great  fair  was 
purchased  for  three  thousand  dollars,  by 
the  Hon.  Thomas  B.  Bryan,  for  the  Chi- 
cago Soldiers'  Home,  of  which  he  was 
president.  Lithographic  copies  of  the  doc- 
ument were  also  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the 
same  institution,  and  netted  it  thousands 
of  dollars. 

One  of  the  most  important  results  of  this 
great  measure,  whether  considered  from  a 
moral,  political,  or  social  point  of  view, 
was  the  Fifteenth  Amendment  to  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  by  which 
all  citizens  were  made  equal  before  the 
law. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  Febru- 
ary, 1869,  that  congress  passed  a  resolu- 
tion in  the  following  words: 

A  resolution  proposing  an  amendment 
to  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 

Resolved,  By  the  Senate  and  House  of 
Representatives  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  in  Congress  assembled,  two- 
thirds  of  both  Houses  concurring,  that  the 
following  article  be  proposed  to  the  legis- 
latures of  the  several  States  as  an  amend- 
ment to  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  which,  when  ratified  by  three- 
fourths  of  the  said  legislatures,  shall  be 
valid  as  a  part  of  the  Constitution,  namely : 
— ARTICLE  15,  Section  1.  The  right  of 
citizens  of  the  United  States  to  vote  shall 
not  be  denied  or  abridged  by  the  United 
States,  or  by  any  State,  on  account  of  race, 
color,  or  previous  condition  of  servitude. 
Section  2.  Congress  sV.l  have  power  to 
enforce  this  article  by  appropriate  legisla- 
tion. 

In  about  one  year's  time  from  the  pas- 
sage of  this  resolution,  proclamation  was 
made  by  the  secretary  of  state,  Hon.  Ham- 
ilton Fish,  that  the  proposed  amendment 
had  been  ratified  by  the  legislatures  of  the 


PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION. 


553 


states  of  North  Carolina,  West  Virginia, 
Massachusetts,  Wisconsin,  Maine,  Louisi- 
ana, Michigan,  South  Carolina,  Pennsyl- 
vania, Arkansas,  Connecticut,  Florida, 
Illinois,  Indiana,  New  York,  New  Hamp- 
shire, Nevada,  Vermont,  Virginia,  Ala- 
bama, Missouri,  Mississippi,  Ohio,  Iowa, 
Kansas,  Minnesota,  Rhode  Island,  Ne- 
braska, and  Texas, — twenty-nine  in  all, 
and  constituting  three-fourths  of  the  whole 
number  of  states,  and  thus  becoming  valid, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  as  a  part  of 
the  constitution  of  the  United  States. 

Though  not  obligatory,  as  an  executive 
duty,  President  Grant  communicated  the 
fact  of  the  ratification  to  congress,  in  a 
special  message,  on  the  thirtieth  of  March, 
1870.  "  The  measure  " — said  the  presi- 
dent— "  which  makes  at  once  four  millions 
of  the  people  voters  who  were  heretofore 
declared  by  the  highest  tribunal  in  the 
land  not  citizens  of  the  United  States,  nor 
eligible  to  become  so,  with  the  assertion 
that  at  the  time  of  the  Declaration  of  In- 


dependence the  opinion  was  fixed  and  uni- 
versal in  the  civilized  portion  of  the  white 
race,  and  regarded  as  an  axiom  in  morals 
as  well  as  in  politics,  that  black  men  had 
no  rights  which  white  men  were  bound  to 
respect,  is,  indeed,  a  measure  of  grander 
importance  than  any  other  one  act  of  the 
kind  from  the  foundation  of  our  free  gov- 
ernment to  the  present  time.  Institutions 
like  ours,  in  which  all  power  is  derived 
directly  from  the  people,  must  depend 
mainly  upon  their  intelligence,  patriotism, 
and  industry.  I  call  the  attention,  there- 
fore, of  the  newly  enfranchised  race  to  the 
importance  of  their  striving,  in  every  hon- 
orable manner,  to  make  themselves  worthy 
of  their  new  privilege.  To  a  race  more 
favored  heretofore  by  our  laws,  I  would 
say,  withhold  no  legal  privilege  of  advance- 
ment to  the  new  citizens."  So  great  an 
event  was  not  suffered  to  pass  without  pub- 
lic demonstrations  of  joy  commensurate 
with  its  grand,  beneficent,  and  elevating 
scope,  in  almost  all  parts  of  the  country. 


LXVII. 

CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBUKG,  "  THE  GIBRALTAR  OF 
THE  MISSISSIPPI,"  BY  THE  UNION  FORCES.— 1803. 


The  Genius,  Valor,  anil  Resources  of  Both  Armies  Taskeil  to  their  Utmost. — Final  Capitulation  of  the 
City  by  General  Pemberton,  After  a  Prolonged  and  Brilliant  Siege. — Heaviest  Blow  Yet  Dealt  the 
Secession  Cause. — General  McPherson  Receives  the  Formal  Surrender. — Thirty-seven  Thousaud 
Prisoners,  Fifteen  Generals,  Arms  and  Munitions  for  Sixty  Thousand  Men,  the  Trophies. — Geograph- 
ical Importance  of  Vicksburg. — Its  Commanding  Fortifications — Farragut's  Naval  Siege  Powerless 
— Sherman's  Attack  Repulsed. — Grant  Assumes  Active  Command. — Vigorous  Operations  Undertaken. 
— His  Series  of  Victorious  Battles. — Futile  Attempt  to  Storm  Vicksburg. — Hours  of  Terrific  Can- 
nonading.— A  Systematic  Siege  Begun. — Thorough  Investment  at  all  Points. — Federal  Sapping  and 
Mining. — They  Mine  and  Blow  up  Fort  Hill. — Awful  Spectacle  of  Blood  and  Ruin. — Deadly  Strug- 
gle for  a  Foothold. — Success  of  the  Forty-fifth  Illinois. — Their  Colors  Surmount  the  Work. — Pember- 
ton Sends  a  Flag  of  Truce. — His  Interview  with  Grant. — Grant's  Terms :  "  Unconditional  Surrender." 
— The  Victors  Enter  the  City,  July  4th. — Curious  Reminiscences. 


"  No  thought  of  flighi. 
None  of  retreat,  no  unbecoming  deed 
That  antued  fear  ;  each  one  himself  relied 
As  only  in  IMS  arm  the  moment  lay 
Of  Victory!" 


OPERATIONS   AT  VICKSBURO. 


OUAVES,  infantry,  cavalry,  artillery,— offi- 
cers and  privates,— picket,  scout,  and  spy, — 
brave  legions,  led  on  by  brave  generals  of 
heroic  purpose  to  noblest  deeds, — won  glo- 
rious honor  to  American  arms,  and  to  the 
still  more  sacred  cause  of  the  American  Union, 
by  the   capture    of   the    city   of   Vicksburg,    the 
stronghold  of  Mississippi,    with  all  its  defenses 
and  munitions,  and  its  valorous  army; — an  event 
which,  occurring  on  the  fourth  of  July,  filled  the 
hearts  of  all  loyal   Americans  with   peculiar  joy, 
while  it   was  confessedly  the  heaviest  and  most 
disastrous  military    blow   which  the   confederate 
cause  had  yet  received  during  the  two  long  years 
of  most  eventful  struggle. 

Situated  on  the  Mississippi  river,  on  a  com- 
manding elevation,  four  hundred  miles  above  New 
Orleans,  and  fifty  miles  west  of  Jackson,  it  was  the  most 
important  point  on  the  river  between  Natchez  and  Memphis, 
and,  at  an  early  day,  was  strongly  fortified  by  the  confeder- 
ate authorities  of  the  state,  forts  being  erected  and  abundance 
of  artillery  supplied.  More  than  a  year  before  the  final 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG. 


555 


tapitulation  of  the  place  under  General 
Pemberton  to  General  Grant,  the  union 
forces  laid  siege  to  the  city,  and  Farragut 
demanded  the  surrender  of  the  forts  ;  the 
silencing  of  the  confederate  batteries  at 
Grand  Gulf,  was  among  the  earlier  opera- 
tions of  the  union  gun-boats,  which  also 
shelled  the  city  for  several  weeks.  Farra- 
gut  raised  the  naval  siege,  July  24, 1862. 
General  Grant  had  taken  command  of  the 
union  army  in  that  quarter  in  June,  of  the 
same  year,  and,  in  December,  organized 
his  army  into  four  grand  corps, — the  Thir- 
teenth, Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seven- 
teenth, commanded  respectively  by  Gen- 
erals McClernand,  Sherman,  Hurlbut,  and 
McPherson.  At  the  close  of  this  month, 
Sherman  started  from  Memphis,  passed 
down  the  Mississippi  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Yazoo,  some  ten  miles  above  Vicksburg, 
and  ascending  that  river,  advanced  upon 
Vicksburg  on  the  north  side,  but,  after 
three  days  of  severe  fighting,  was  com- 
pelled to  retire  with  heavy  loss.  For  a 
time,  the  attack  on  the  city  was  abandoned 
as  futile. 

Early  in  February,  1863,  General  Grant 
arrived  and  assumed  active  personal  com- 
mand of  military  operations,  which  he  con- 
ducted with  great  tact  and  vigor,  succes- 
sively defeating  his  opponents  in  engage- 
ments at  Port  Gibson,  Fourteen  Mile 
Creek,  Raymond,  Jackson,  Champion's 
Hill,  and  Big  Black  Bridge.  The  naval 
forces  co-operating  in  these  movements 
were  under  the  efficient  direction  of  Ad- 
mirals Farragut  and  Porter. 

After  thoroughly  investing  the  city  on 
all  sides,  the  union  troops  forming  a  semi- 
circle, with  both  flanks  resting  on  the 
river,  an  unsuccessful  assault  was  made, 
May  23d,  by  the  combined  land  and  naval 
forces.  The  attack  was  a  terrible  one. 
According  to  the  correspondent  of  the  Chi- 
cago Tribune,  it  was  characterized  by  the 
following  incidents:  During  the  night, 
the  gun-boats  and  mortars  lying  in  front  of 
the  city  kept  up  a  continual  fire,  and 
dropped  their  fiery  messengers  right  and 
left  without  distinction.  During  this  bom- 
bardment several  buildings  were  set  on 


fire  by  the  exploding  shells,  and  lighted 
up  the  darkness,  revealing  strange  shapes 
and  wonderful  outlines,  standing  out  in 
relief  against  the  dark  sky,  which  added 
wonderful  interest  to  the  bombardment  as 
witnessed  by  the  distant  observer.  It  is 
impossible  to  estimate  the  damage  occa- 
sioned by  thus  dropping  into  Vicksburg 
those  heavy  eleven  and  thirteen  inch  shells. 
Imagination  falls  far  short  of  its  reality. 
Before  the  union  forces  approached  the 
city,  General  Pemberton  ordered  all  the 
women  and  children  for  miles  around 
Vicksburg  to  go  within  the  intrenchments, 
assuring  them  that  in  that  way  they  would 
escape  all  danger.  The  consequence  was, 
that  there  were  a  large  number  of  non- 
combatants  in  the  city,  exposed  to  all  the 
dangers  of  siege  and  bombardment.  At 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  cannon- 
ading began,  and  continued,  with  scarcely 
a  moment's  intermission,  along  the  entire 
line,  until  ten  o'clock.  From  every  hill- 
top in  front  of  the  confederate  works, 
cannon  were  belching  forth,  and  the  fiery 
tempest  raged  fearfully.  Guns  were  dis- 
mounted, embrasures  torn  up,  parapets, 
destroyed,  and  caissons  exploded.  It  was 
a  fearful  demonstration.  For  two  long 
hours  did  this  cannonade  continue,  when 
a  general  charge  was  made.  Winding 
through  the  valleys,  clambering  over  the 
hills  everywhere,  subjected  to  a  murder- 
ous enfilading  and  cross-fire,  the  advance 
pressed  up  close  to  the  confederate  works 
— to  find  that  a  deep  ditch,  protected  by 
sharp  stakes  along  the  outer  edge,  lay 
between  them  and  the  intrenchments. 
They  planted  their  flag  directly  before  the 
fort,  and  crouched  down  behind  the  em- 
bankment, out  of  range  of  the  confederate 
fire,  as  calmly  as  possible,  to  await  devel- 
opments. The  soldiers  within  the  forts 
could  not  rise  above  the  parapet  to  fire  at 
them,  for  if  they  did,  a  hundred  bullets 
went  whizzing  through  the  air,  and  the 
adventurers  died.  The  confederates,  how- 
ever, adopted  another  plan  ;  taking  a  shell, 
they  cut  the  fuse  close  off,  lighted  it,  and 
rolled  it  over  the  outer  slope  of  the  em» 
bankmeut.  Subsequently,  with  picks  and 


556 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBUEG. 


shovels,  a  way  was  dug  into  one  fort,  and 
througli  the  breach  the  boys  walked 
bravely  in.  The  first  fort  on  the  left  of 
the  railroad  was  stormed  by  a  portion  of 
General  Carr's  division,  and  gallantly 
taken ;  the  colonel  that  led  the  charge  was 
wounded.  On  the  center  the  fire  was  per- 
sistent and  terrible.  Many  brave  officers 
were  killed  and  many  more  wounded. 
Colonel  Dollins,  of  the  Eighty-first  Illinois, 
fell  dead  while  leading  his  men  to  the 
charge.  Later  in  the  afternoon,  General 
Hansom's  brigade  charged  the  works  oppo- 
site his  position,  with  heavy  loss.  Steele 
and  Tuttle,  on  the  right,  were  also  vigor- 
ously engaged,  the  loss  sustained  by  the 
former  being  considerable. 


GENERAL  J.   C.    PEMBEKTON. 

The  result  of  this  assault  rendered  it 
quite  certain  that  Vicksburg  could  not  be 
taken  by  storm,  and  every  possible  appli- 
ance was  immediately  put  into  requisition 
by  General  Grant  to  accomplish  his  pur- 
pose by  systematic  siege,  and  sappers  and 
miners  performed  an  important  part  in 
this  great  undertaking.  The  details  of 
this  kind  of  work  are  well  understood  by 
all,  and  need  not  be  repeated  here.  Suf- 
fice it  to  say,  that  one  of  the  principal  con- 
federate forts  was  soon  reached  by  this 
subterranean  process, — the  miners  keeping 
incessantly  busy,  day  and  night,  until  they 
arrived  far  under  the  confederate  fortifica- 
tions, and  within  such  near  proximity  to 
the  enemy,  that  the  picks  and  shovels  of 
the  latter,  similarly  engaged  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  could  frequently  be  heard, — 


necessitating,  above  all  things,  incessant 
wariness  and  the  utmost  possible  expedi- 
tion. How  the  matter  was  carried  through, 
the  following  account,  made  up  from  the 
admirable  dispatches  of  Messrs.  Keim  and 
Fitzpatrick,  of  the  New  York  Herald,  will 
abundantly  show: 

On  the  morning  of  June  25th,  the  work 
of  mining  (says  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,)  was  com- 
pleted, an  immense  quantity  of  gunpowder 
was  stored  in  the  cavity  prepared  to  re- 
ceive it,  and  the  fuse  train  was  laid.  At 
noon,  the  different  regiments  of  the  Sev- 
enteenth corps,  selected  to  make  the  assault 
on  the  breach  when  it  should  have  been 
effected,  were  marshaled  in  long  lines 
upon  the  near  slopes  of  the  hills  immedi- 
ately confronting  the  doomed  fortifications, 
where,  disposed  for  the  attack,  impatiently 
awaited  the  event.  The  confederates 
seemed  to  have  discovered  that  some  move- 
ment was  on  foot,  for,  from  the  moment 
the  federal  troops  came  into  position,  until 
the  explosion  took  place,  their  sharpshoot- 
ers kept  up  an  incessant  firo  from  the 
whole  line  of  their  works. 

At  length  all  was  in  readiness  ;  the  fuse 
train  was  fired,  and  it  went  fizzing  and 
popping  through  the  zigzag  line  of 
trenches,  until  for  a  moment  it  vanished. 
Its  disappearance  was  quickly  succeeded 
by  the  explosion,  and  the  mine  under  Fort 
Hill  was  sprung.  So  terrible  a  spectacle 
is  seldom  witnessed.  Dust,  dirt,  smoke, 
gabions,  stockades,  timber,  gun-carriages, 
logs — in  fact,  everything  connected  with 
the  fort — rose  hundreds  of  feet  into  the 
air,  as  if  vomited  forth  from  a  volcano.  It 
is  described  by  all  who  saw  it  as  an  awful 
scene. 

No  sooner  had  the  explosion  taken  place 
(writes  Mr.  Keim),  than  the  two  detach- 
ments acting  as  the  forlorn  hope  ran  into 
the  fort  and  sap.  A  brisk  musketry  fire 
at  once  commenced  between  the  two  par- 
ties, with  about  equal  effect  on  either  side. 
No  sooner  had  these  detachments  become 
well  engaged  than  the  rest  of  Leggett's 
brigade  joined  them  and  entered  into  the 
struggle.  The  regiments  relieving  each 
other  at  intervals,  the  contest  now  grew 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBCRG. 


657 


severe,  both  sides,  determined  upon  holding 
their  own,  were  doing  their  best.  Volley 
after  volley  was  fired,  though  with  less  car- 
nage than  would  be  supposed.  The  Forty- 
fifth  Illinois  now  charged  immediately 
up  to  the  crest  of  the  parapet,  and  here 
suffered  its  heaviest,  losing  many  officers 
in  the  assault.  After  a  severe  contest  of 
half  an  hour,  with  varying  results,  the 
flag  of  the  Forty-fifth  appeared  vpon  the 
summit  of  the  work!  The  position  was 
gained.  Cheer  after  cheer  broke  through 
the  confusion  and  uproar  of  the  contest, 
assuring  the  troops  everywhere  along  the 
line  that  the  Forty-fifth  was  still  itself. 
The  colonel  was  now  left  alone  in  command 
of  the  regiment,  and  he  was  himself  badly 
bruised  by  a  flying  splinter.  The  regi- 
ment had  also  suffered  severely  in  the  line, 
and  the  troops  were  worn  out  by  excessive 
heat  and  hard  fighting.  Relief  was  nec- 
essary. Accordingly,  another  Illinois  reg- 
iment was  ordered  up,  and  the  Forty-fifth 
drawn  off;  this  was  at  six  o'clock  P.  M. 
After  this,  the  action  was  kept  up  briskly 
but  steadily  for  several  hours,  until  dusk, 
when  the  firing  lulled  and  the  men  took  a 
respite.  While  the  Forty-fifth  was  so 
hotly  engaged  in  the  fort,  the  Twenty-third 
Indiana  followed  its  first  detachment  into 
the  sap,  from  which  place  they  were  to 
hold  the  confederates  at  bay  during  the 
contest  for  the  fort.  The  confederates 
fought  desperately,  as  well  at  this  point  as 
the  other ;  but  the  character  of  the  engage- 
ment was  different,  tho  troops  firing  at 
each  other  over  breastworks  of  earth. 
This  regiment  did  excellent  service. 

The  explosion  of  the  mine  was  the  signal 
for  the  opening  of  the  artillery  of  the 
entire  line.^  The  left  division  of  General 
McPherson's  Seventeenth  or  center  corps 
opened  first,  and  discharges  were  repeated 
along  the  left,  through  General  Ord's 
Thirteenth  corps  and  Herron's  extreme 
left  division,  until  the  sound  struck  the 
ear  like  the  mutterings  of  distant  thunder. 
General  Sherman,  on  the  right,  also  opened 
his  artillery  about  the  same  time  and  occu- 
pied the  enemy's  attention  along  his  front. 
Every  shell  struck  the  parapet,  and,  bound- 


558 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG. 


ing  over,  exploded  in  the  midst  of  the 
opposing  forces  beyond.  The  scene  at  this 
time  was  one  of  the  utmost  sublimity. 
The  roar  of  artillery,  rattle  of  small 
arms,  the  cheers  of  the  men,  flashes  of 
light,  wreaths  of  pale  blue  smoke  over  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  field,  the  bursting  of 
shells,  the  fierce  whistle  of  solid  shot,  the 
deep  boom  of  the  mortars,  the  broadsides 
of  the  ships  of  war,  and,  added  to  all  this, 
the  vigorous  replies  of  the  confederates, 
set  up  a  din  which  beggared  all  powers  of 
description. 

After  the  possession  of  the  confederate 
fort  was  no  longer  in  doubt,  the  pioneer 
federal  corps  mounted  the  work  with  their 
shovels  and  set  to  throwing  up  earth  vig- 
orously, in  order  to  secure  space  for  artil- 
lery. A  most  fortunate  peculiarity — for 
the  union  army — in  the  explosion,  was  the 
manner  in  which  the  earth  was  thrown 
out.  The  appearance  of  the  place  was 
that  of  a  funnel,  with  heavy  sides  running 
up  to  the  very  crest  of  the  parapet,  afford- 
ing admirable  protection  not  only  for  the 
union  troops  and  pioneers,  but  turned  out 
a  ready  made  fortification  in  the  rough, 
which,  with  a  slight  application  of  the 
shovel  and  pick,  was  ready  to  receive  the 
guns  to  be  used  at  this  point. 

The  capture  of  Vicksburg  was  now  a 
foregone  conclusion,  admitted  even  by  its 
devoted  defenders  themselves,  as  appeared 
from  the  contents  of  a  confederate  mail- 
bag,  captured  just  at  this  time.  At  about 
eight  o'clock,  therefore,  on  the  morning  of 
July  3d,  flags  of  truce  appeared  before 
General  Smith's  front,  when  General 
Bowen  and  Colonel  Montgomery  were  led 
blindfolded  into  the  union  lines.  They 
bore  a  sealed  communication  from  General 
Pemberton  to  General  Grant,  in  which  the 
former  proposed  an  armistice,  with  a  view 
to  arranging  terms  for  the  capitulation  of 
Vicksburg  —  three  commissioners  to  be 
appointed  from  each  army,  for  this  pur- 
pose. General  Pemberton  added  that  he 
made  this  proposition  to  save  the  further 
effuaion  of  blood,  and  feeling  himself  fully 
able  to  maintain  his  position  for  a  yet 
indefinite  period. 


To  this  document,  General  Grant  made 
immediate  reply,  assuring  General  Pem- 
berton that  the  effusion  of  blood  could  at 
any  time  be  avoided  by  an  unconditional 
surrender  of  the  city  and  garrison — that 
men  who  had  shown  so  much  endurance 
and  courage  as  those  in  Vicksburg  would 
be  treated  with  all  the  respect  due  them  as 
prisoners  of  war  by  their  adversary, — and 
concluded  by  informing  General  Pember- 
ton that  he  did  not  favor  the  appointment 
of  commissioners  to  arrange  for  a  capitula- 
tion, as  he  had  no  other  terms  than  those 
just  indicated. 

General  Pemberton  then  solicited  a  per- 
sonal interview,  which  was  acceded  to  by 
General  Grant,  and  appointed  for  three 
o'clock  p.  M.,  General  Pemberton's  mes- 
sengers returning  with  the  answer  at 
eleven  A.  My  At  three  o'clock  precisely, 
<Jne  gun,  the  prearranged  signal,  was 
fired,  and  immediately  replied  to  by  the 
confederates.  General  Pemberton  then 
made  his  appearance  on  the  works  in 
McPherson's  front,  under  a  white  flag, 
considerably  on  the  left  of  Fort  Hill. 
General  Grant  rode  through  the  union 
trenches  until  he  came  to  an  outlet,  lead- 
ing to  a  small  green  space,  which  had  not 
been  trod  by  either  army.  Here  the  party 
halted,  until  General  Pemberton  appeared, 
accompanied  by  General  Bowen  and 
Colonel  Montgomery.  Thousands  of  sol- 
diers looked  upon  this  strange  scene.  Two 
men,  who  had  been  lieutenants  in  the 
same  regiment  in  Mexico,  now  met  as  foes, 
with  all  the  world,  in  a  certain  sense, 
looking  upon  them.  When  they  had  ap- 
proached within  a  few  feet,  Colonel  Mont- 
gomery said — 

"General  Grant,  General  Pemberton." 

They  shook  hands  and  greeted  each 
other  familiarly,  Pemberton  remarking, 
playfully,  "  I  was  at  Monterey  and  Buena 
Vista.  We  had  terms  and  conditions 
there." 

It  was  beneath  the  outspreading 
branches  of  a  gigantic  oak  that  the  confer- 
ence of  the  generals  took  place.  Here 
presented  the  only  space  which  had  no* 
been  used  for  some  purpose  or  other  bj 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG. 


559 


the  contending  hosts.  Tho  ground  was 
covered  with  a  fresh,  luxuriant  verdure; 
here  and  there  a  shrub  or  clump  of  bushes 
could  be  seen  standing  out  from  the  green 
growth  on  the  surface,  while  several  oaks 
filled  up  the  scene,  and  gave  it  character. 
Some  of  the  trees  in  their  tops  exhibited 
the  effects  of  flying  projectiles,  by  the  loss 
of  limbs  or  torn  foliage,  and  in  their 
trunks  the  indentations  of  smaller  missiles 
plainly  marked  the  occurrences  to  which 
they  had  been  silent  witnesses.  The  party 
made  up  to  take  part  in  the  conference 
was  composed  as  follows :  Major-Generals 
Grant  and  McPherson,  and  Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Smith,  of  the  union  army ;  and  Lieu- 
tenant-General Pemberton,  Major-General 
Bowen,  and  Colonel  Montgomery,  of  the 
confederate  army.  It  was  not  long  before 
the  momentous  business  which  brought 
the  party  together  was  begun  by  General 
Pemberton  saying — 


GENERAL  J.   B.   MCPHERSON. 

*  General  Grant,  I  meet  you  in  order  to 
arrange  terms  for  the  capitulation  of  the 
city  of  Vicksburg  and  its  garrison.  "What 
terms  do  you  propose  ?  " 

"  Unconditional  surrender,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Unconditional  surrender  ?  "  repeated 
General  Pemberton;  "Never,  so  long  as  I 
have  a  man  left  me  !  I  will  fight  rather." 

"Then,  sir,"  rejoined  General  Grant, 
"  you  can  continue  the  defense.  My  army 
has  never  been  in  a  better  condition  for 
the  prosecution  of  the  siege." 

During  the  passing  of  these  few  prelim- 
inaries, General  Grant  manifested  all  his 


natural  self-possession,  and  evinced  not 
the  least  sign  of  embarrassment ;  and  after 
a  short  conversation  standing,  the  two 
generals,  as  by  a  kind  of  mutual  tendency, 
wandered  off*  from  the  rest  of  the  party 
and  seated  themselves  on  the  grass,  in  a 
cluster  of  bushes,  where  alone  they  talked 
over  the  important  events  then  pending. 
Here  they  sat  more  than  an  hour.  Pem- 
berton played  with  the  grass  and  pulled 
leaves.  Grant,  as  usual,  talked  coolly, 
occasionally  giving  a  few  puffs  at  his  favor- 
ite companion — his  black  cigar.  Gener- 
als McPherson,  Smith,  and  Bowen,  and 
Colonel  Montgomery,  imitating  the  exam- 
ple of  the  commanding  generals,  seated 
themselves  at  some  distance  off,  while  the 
respective  staffs  of  the  generals  formed 
another  and  larger  group  in  the  rear. 
After  a  lengthy  conversation  the  generals 
separated.  General  Pemberton  did  not 
come  to  any  conclusion  on  the  matter,  but 
stated  his  intention  to  submit  the  matter 
to  a  council  of  general  officers  of  his  com- 
mand; and,  in  the  event  of  their  assent, 
the  surrender  of  the  city  should  be  made 
in  the  morning.  Until  morning  was  given 
him  to  consider  and  determine  upon  the 
matter,  and  send  in  his  final  reply.  The 
generals  then  rode  to  their  respective 
quarters.  It  was,  however,  agreed  that 
General  Grant  should  confer  with  his  offi- 
cers, and  transmit,  in  writing,  to  General 
Pemberton,  the  terms  he  would  accept. 
Promptly  the  note  was  sent  by  the  hands 
of  General  Logan  and  Lieutenant-Colonel 
Wilson.  It  demanded,  as  from  the  first, 
the  entire  surrender  of  the  place,  the  gar- 
rison, and  the  stores.  "  On  your  accepting 
the  terms  proposed,"  General  Grant's  note 
stated,  "  I  will  march  in  one  division  as  a 
guard,  and  take  possession  at  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning.  As  soon  as  paroles 
can  be  made  out,  and  signed  by  the  officers 
and  men,  you  will  be  allowed  to  march  out 
of  our  lines,  the  officers  taking  with  them 
their  regimental  clothing,  and  staff,  field, 
and  cavalry  officers  one  horse  each.  The 
rank  and  file  will  be  allowed  all  their 
clothing,  but  no  other  property." 

Early  the  next  morning,   the  glorious 


560 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG. 


INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  OENEEALS  GRANT  AND   PEMBEKTON. 


Fourth  of  July,  General  Pemberton's  reply 
was  returned.  He  accepted  the  terms  on 
condition  that  his  troops  should  be  per- 
mitted to  march  out  with  their  colors  and 
arms,  stacking  them  outside  of  their  works. 
To  this,  Grant  made  no  objection. 

In  his  account  of  the  grand  closing 
scene  in  this  momentous  military  transac- 
tion, Mr.  Keim  states  that  it  was  about 
one  o'clock  p.  M.,  before  matters  had  as- 
sumed such  a  state  of  completion  as  would 
admit  of  the  entrance  of  the  city  by  the 
union  army.  To  General  HcPherson  was 
accorded  the  honor  of  formally  receiving 
the  stipulated  surrender.  He  met  Pem- 
berton  half  a  mile  within  the  lines,  where 
they  were  soon  joined  by  Grant,  and  all, 
after  a  few  minutes'  parley,  rode  together 
into  town.  Upon  arriving  at  the  court- 
house, the  troops  were  drawn  up  in  line, 
facing  the  building,  and  the  national  en- 
sign raised  from  its  towering  dome.  This 
done,  the  ceremony  of  possession  was  com- 
pleted by  the  display  of  the  flags  of  the 
Forty-fifth  Illinois  infantry,  and  of  the 
head-quarters  of  the  Seventee'ith  corps. 
Upon  the  appearance  of  the  flags,  the 
troops  joined  in  singing  "Ratty  Round 
the  Flag,"  with  tumultuous  enthusiasm, 
and  cheered  vociferously — making  the  city 
ring  and  echo  to  its  very  suburbs.  In 
consideration  of  the  active  part  taken  by 
the  Seventeenth  corps  in  the  campaign 


which  culminated  in  the  capture  of  Vicks- 
burg,  that  command  was  designated  by 
General  Grant  to  take  possession  of  the 
city.  No  sooner  was  the  flag  thrown  to 
the  breeze  from  the  court-house,  than  the 
admiral's  glass  caught  sight  of  its  beauti- 
ful folds,  and  in  due  time  his  vessel 
steamed  down  to  the  city,  followed  by  all 
the  gun-boats  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
took  possession  of  a  few  feet  of  river  front. 
All  this  was  duly  done,  after  the  authority 
of  the  army  of  the  United  States  was 
secured  beyond  doubt. 

Rarely  if  ever  before  was  such  a  Fourth  • 
of  July  celebrated  as  this  of  1863.  The 
tidings  of  the  victories  of  Gettysburg  and 
Vicksburg  mingled  together,  and  in  every 
part  of  the  loyal  north  enthusiastic  demon- 
strations of  joy  were  indulged  in.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  July,  President  Lincoln  issued 
a  proclamation  appointing  August  sixth  as 
a  day  of  national  thanksgiving. 

The  result  of  this  memorable  campaign 
and  siege,  as  stated  by  General  Grant, 
was,  '  the  defeat  of  the  confederates  in  five 
battles  outside  of  Vicksburg ;  the  occupa- 
tion of ,  Jackson,  the  capital  of  Mississippi ; 
a  loss  to  the  confederate  army  of  thirty- 
seven  thousand  prisoners,  among  whom 
were  fifteen  general  officers — and  at  least 
ten  thousand  killed  and  wounded,  and 
among  the  killed  Generals  Tracy,  Tilgh- 
nwn,  and  Green,  and  hundreds,  perhaps 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBURG. 


5IJ1 


thousands,  of  stragglers,  who  can  never  be 
collected  and  reorganized.  Arms  and 
munitions  of  war  for  an  army  of  sixty 
thousand  men  have  fallen  into  our  hands; 
besides  a  large  amount  of  other  public 
property,  consisting  of  railroads,  locomo- 
tives, cars,  steam-boats,  cotton,  etc.'  The 
losses  of  the  union  army  were  about  one 
thousand  killed  and  a  little  more  than 
seven  thousand  wounded — about  one-half 
of  them  only  slightly,  and  between  five 
and  six  hundred  missing. 

In  all  respects,  the  campaign  resulting 
in  the  capture  of  Vicksburg  was  one  of  the 
most  skillful  in  the  annals  of  military 
strategy,  and  has  justly  been  pronounced 
unequaled  in  brilliancy  of  conception  and 
the  masterly  tact  with  which  it  was  exe- 
cuted. One  specially  grand  feature  in  the 
result  was,  that  by  silencing  the  confeder- 
ate batteries  that  had  so  long  controlled 
the  Mississippi,  that  most  majestic  river 
on  the  globe  was  again  thrown  open  for 
the  unrestricted  commerce  of  the  United 
States  from  Cairo  to  the  Gulf — or,  as 
President  Lincoln  expressed  it,  'The 
Father  of  Waters  again  goes  unvexed  to 
the  sea.' 

One  of  the  most  interesting  chapters  in 
the  history  of  this  campaign  is  that  con- 
tained in  a  narrative  of  General  Grant's 
interview  with  his  friend  Mr.  Dubois,  of 
Illinois,  the  facts  of  which,  as  given  some 
time  after  in  the  public  journals,  were  as 
follows : 

Early  in  April,  1863,  Generals  Grant, 
Sherman,  and  Oglesby,  Secretary  of  State 
Hatch,  and  Auditor  Jesse  R.  Dubois,  of 
Illinois,  with  some  others,  were  on  board 
the  flagship  of  Commodore  Porter's  squad- 
ron, the  party  having  been  up  the  Yazoo 
river  to  Haiues's  Bluff,  on  a  reconnoisance 
of  the  fortifications.  While  the  other 
gentlemen  were  in  the  cabin,  discussing 
public  questions,  General  Grant  and  his 
friend  Dubois  withdrew,  and  being  in 
company  together  on  the  deck,  the  follow- 
ing conversation,  in  substance,  ensued. 
General  Grant  said — 

"  Uncle  Jesse,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
have  come  to  my  wit's  end  as  regards  the 
36 


capture  of  Vicksburg.  I  really  do  not 
know  what  next  move  to  make.  I  have 
tried  everything  I  could  think  of,  and  here 
we  are  yet.  I  have  been  advised  that  we 
go  back  to  Memphis,  and  commence  an 
overland  march  from  that  point." 

"General  Grant,  you  cannot  do  that. 
If  you  take  this  army  back  to  Memphis, 
with  all  this  array  of  gun-boats  and  trans- 
ports and  all  your  material  of  war,  the 
effect  will  be  disastrous  on  the  country. 
.  .  .  .  If  you  can  do  no  better,  you 
must  storm  Vu-ksburg.  If  it  costs  the 
lives  of  forty  thousand  men,  it  must  be 
taken.  It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  think  of, 
but  it  must  be  done." 

General  Grant  replied  that  he  would 
reflect  upon  the  matter  during  the  night, 
and  let  Mr.  Dubois  know  of  his  determin- 
ation in  the  morning.  When  the  morning 
came,  General  Grant  said — 

"  Uncle  Jesse,  you  are  going  home  to- 
day ;  tell  Governor  Yates  and  the  people 
of  Illinois  for  me,  that  I  will  take  Vicks- 
burg in  sixty  days." 

"  General  Grant,  I  am  glad  to  hear  you 
say  this  ;  but  all  I  ask  you  will  allow  me 
to  tell  them  is,  that  you  will  take  Vicks- 
burg,— I  don't  care  whether  in  sixty  days 
or  six  months." 

"  /  am  bound  to  take  it.  I  have  decided 
on  my  plans.  I  will  not  tell  you  what 
they  are.  Even  with  the  best  intentions, 
you  might  disclose  them  to  the  detriment 
of  the  movement." 

They  then  parted,  and  General  Grant 
detailed  his  plan  to  General  Sherman,  who 
protested  in  writing,  but  placed  himself 
under  the  general's  orders. 

Auditor  Dubois  went  home  and  told 
Governor  Yates  that  Grant  would  take 
Vicksburg;  that  he  had  no  doubt  of  it; 
that  General  Grant  told  him  to  tell  him 
so,  and  that  he  must  tell  it  to  the  people 
as  coming  from  General  Grant.  This 
promise  of  General  Grant  was  published 
in  the  papers  at  the  time,  and  Governor 
Yates  repeated  it  from  the  stump. 

Not  the  least  interesting  incidents  in 
connection  with  this  matter,  in  view  of  the 
final  result,  are,  the  written  protest  by 


562 


CAMPAIGN  AGAINST  VICKSBUEG. 


General  Sherman  against  General  Grant's 
circuitous  march  around  Vicksburg,  and 
by  which  he  cut  himself  oft'  from  his  base 
of  supplies ;  General  Sherman's  direction 
that  the  protest  be  forwarded  to  Washing- 
ton, and  General  Grant's  never  so  forward- 
ing it;  and  afterward,  when  Vicksburg 
was  about  to  surrender,  the  tearing  up  of 
said  protest,  by  General  Grant,  in  General 
Sherman's  presence,  much  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  latter. 

A  more  humorous  incident,  and  which 
will  bear  to  be  repeated,  was  that  which 
transpired  in  the  presence  of  President 


Lincoln,  to  whom  complaint  had  been 
made  that  General  Grant  was  in  the  habit 
of  using  intoxicating  drinks  to  excess. 
"  So  I  understand  Grant  drinks  whiskey  to 
excess  ? "  interrogatively  remarked  the 
president.  "  Yes,"  was  the  reply.  "  What 
whiskey  does  he  drink?"  inquired  Mr. 
Lincoln.  "  What  whiskey  ?  "  doubtfully 
queried  his  hearers.  "  Yes.  Is  it  Bour- 
bon or  Monongahela?"  "Why  do  you 
ask,  Mr.  President?"  "Because,  if  it 
makes  him  win  victories  like  this  at  Vicks- 
burg, I  will  send  a  demijohn  of  the  same 
kind  to  every  general  in  the  army.'' 


LXVI1I. 

THREE  DAYS'  BATTLE  BETWEEN  THE  CONCENTRATE!* 

ARMIES  OF  GENERALS  MEADE  AND  LEE,  AT 

GETTYSBURG,  PA.— 1863. 


Overwhelming  Invasion  of  Pennsylvania  by  the  Confederate  Forces — The  Union  Army  Drives  Them 
with  Great  Slaughter  Across  the  Potomac. — Unsuccessful  Attempt  to  Transfer  the  Seat  of  War  from 
Virginia  to  Northern  Soil. — One  of  the  Most  Decisive  and  Important  Federal  Victories  in  the  Great 
American  Civil  Conflict. — Lee's  Army  Impatient  to  go  North. — Order  of  March  at  Last. — Consterna- 
tion in  the  Border  States. — Call  for  One  Hundred  Thousand  More  Men — Advance  of  Meade's  Army. 
— Face  to  Face  witli  the  Foe. — Engagement  Between  the  Vanguards. — Terrific  Artillery  Contests. — 
Movements  and  Counter  Movements.  —  Severe  Reverses  on  Both  Sides. —  Carnage  at  Cemetery 
Hill. — Longstreet's  Furious  Onset — Most  Destructive  Cannonade. — Gettysburg  a  Vast  Hospital. — 
Crawford's  Grand  Charge  — Standing  by  the  Batteries  ! — Hand-to-Hand  Conflict. — Following  the 
Battle-Flag. — Deadly  and  Impetuous  Fighting. — Forty -one  Confederate  Standards  Taken.  —  Un- 
bounded Joy  ol  the  Victors. — President  Lincoln's  Announcement. 


•*  this  day  hath  made 

Much  work  {(,'  tear*  in  many  a  haplere  mother, 
Whoae  aonfl  li«  Mattered  on  the  bleeding  ground." 


EE'S  vast  and  powerful  army  had  long  waited,  with  eager  and  restlesa 
expectation,  for  the  order  of  march  from   their  chieftain  which  should 

enable  them  to  transfer  the  seat  of  civil  war 
from  the  familiar  encampments  and  blood- 
stained battle-fields  of  Virginia  to  the  soil  of 
the  North.  The  plans  of  the  commanding 
general  were  in  due  time  arranged  with  this 
end  in  view,  and,  about  the  middle  of  June, 
1863,  he  began  to  move  his  troops  across  the 
Potomac,  and  soon  took  possession  of  Hagers- 
town,  Md.,  intending  immediately  to  move 
thence,  in  full  force,  direct  to  Pennsylvania. 
Such  a  movement,  on  the  part  of  the  con- 
federate army,  so  sudden  and  well  executed,  produced  great  consternation 
throughout  the  north.  President  Lincoln  issued  a  call  for  one  hundred  thousand  addi- 
tional men  from  the  loyal  states  nearest  the  theater  of  military  operations  ;  and  Gen- 
eral Meade,  who  had  just  succeeded  General  Hooker  in  command  of  the  army  of  the 
Potomac,  lost  no  time  in  advancing  his  army  northward,  as  far  as  Harrisburg,  Pa.,  the 
place  of  destination  of  Lee's  forces.  The  army  of  General  Meade  consisted  of  the  fol- 
lowing corps :  First,  under  command  of  General  Reynolds,  and  subsequently  under 


MEADE'S  HEAD-QCAKTERS. 


564 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


General  Doubleday ;  second,  under  Gen- 
eral Hancock ;  third,  under  General  Sick- 
les ;  fifth,  under  General  Sykes ;  sixth, 
under  General  Sedgwick  ;  eleventh,  under 
General  Howard  ;  twelfth,  under  General 
Slocum.  Total  number  of  men,  sixty  to 
eighty  thousand,  with  two  hundred  guns. 
The  army  of  General  Lee  consisted  of 
General  Hill's  corps,  General  Longstreet's, 
and  General  Swell's;  in  all,  about  ninety 
thousand  men,  and  two  hundred  guns. 

On  the  first  of  July,  the  advanced  corps 
of  the  union  army,  led  by  Reynolds  and 
Howard,  engaged  the  confederate  forces 
near  Gettysburg.  General  Reynolds  ap- 
proached the  town  from  the  south-east,  the 
confederates  evacuating  it  on  his  arrival. 
He  passed  through  and  out  (says  the 
account  of  a  writer  in  the  Philadelphia 
Age)  on  the  west  side  toward  Chambers- 
burg.  He  marched  several  miles,  was  met 
by  the  enemy  in  stronger  force,  and  after 
a  slight  contest  was  compelled  to  retire. 
The  confederates  pushed  him  very  hard, 
and  he  came  into  the  town  on  a  run,  his 
troops  going  along  every  available  roacl 
and  rushing  out  on  the  east  side,  closely 
pursued.  One  of  his  brigades  with  a  con- 
federate brigade  on  each  side  of  it.  All 
three  were  abreast,  running  as  hard  as 
they  could, — the  two  outside  ones  pouring 
a  heavy  fire  into  the  center,  out  of  which 
men  dropped,  killed  or  wounded,  at  almost 
every  footstep.  This  federal  brigade,  in 
running  that  terrible  gauntlet,  lost  half  its 
men.  General  Reynolds  was  killed,  and 
Gettysburg  was  lost;  but  the  federal 
troops  succeeded  in  mounting  the  Ceme- 
tery Hill,  and  the  confederates  ceased  pur- 
suing. At  night,  the  latter  encamped  in 
the  town,  and  the  union  troops  on  the 
hill.  During  Wednesday  night  and 
Thursday  morning,  the  two  armies  were 
concentrating  on  the  two  ridges,  which 
were  to  be  the  next  day's  line  of  battle, 
and  by  noon  on  Thursday  each  general 
had  a  force  of  eighty  thousand  men  at  his 
disposal.  Then  began  the  great  artillery 
contest,  the  infantry  on  both  sides  crouch- 
ing behind  fences  and  trees  and  in  rifle- 
pits.  The  federal  soldiers  in  the  cemetery 


laid  many  of  the  tombstones  on  the  ground 
to  prevent  injury,  so  that  many  escaped. 
There  was  but  little  infantrj'  fighting  on 
Thursday,  and  neither  party  made  much  im- 
pression on  the  other.  The  confederates  in 
the  other  town  erected  barricades,  and  had 
their  sharpshooters  posted  in  every  availa- 
ble spot,  picking  off  federal  soldiers  on  the 
hills  to  the  north  of  the  cemetery.  The 
cannonade  was  fierce  and  incessant,  and 
shells  from  both  sides  flew  over  and  into 
the  devoted  town.  Beyond  killing  and 
wounding,  breaking  trees  and  shattering 
houses,  and  making  an  awful  noise,  how- 
ever, this  cannonade  had  but  little  effect 
on  the  result  of  the  battle.  Both  sides 
fought  with  great  ferocity,  and  neither 
could  drive  the  other  out  of  position. 

On  Thursday  night,  fearing  that  the 
enemy  had  flank  parties  which  might  turn 
his  rear,  General  Meade  had  serious  inten- 
tions of  a  change  in  his  plan  of  movements, 
and  he  called  a  council  of  war.  The  ad- 
vice of  some  of  his  generals,  however,  and 
the  capture  of  a  courier  with  dispatches 
from  Richmond,  from  which  it  was  learned 
that  the  confederates  could  receive  no 
re-enforcements,  made  him  decide  not  to 
alter  his  programme.  On  Friday  morning, 
General  Lee  did  not  desire  to  make  the 
attack.  He  saw  the  superiority  of  the 
federal  position,  and  wished  to  entice  them 
out  of  it  and  down  into  the  valley.  With 
this  design  in  view,  he  withdrew  all  his 
sharpshooters  and  infantry  from  Gettys- 
burg. The  deserted  town  lay  there  a  very 
tempting  bait,  but  General  Meade's  men 
hid  quietly  behind  the  fences  and  trees, 
and  the  banks  upon  the  hills.  They  could 
look  down  into  the  streets  and  see  every- 
thing that  was  in  progress.  They  saw  the 
confederates  march  out  and  retire  to  the 
seminary,  but  made  no  advance,  and  the 
confederates  gained  nothing  by  the  move- 
ment. A  parting  salute  of  musketry, 
however,  from  a  knoll  north  of  the  ceme- 
tery, accelerated  the  confederate  retreat. 
For  some  time  the  town  had  scarcely  a 
soldier  in  it.  Scores  of  dead  and  wounded 
men  and  horses,  with  broken  wagons, 
bricks,  stones,  timber,  torn  clothing,  and 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBUEG. 


565 


abandoned  accoutrements,  lay  there.  The 
frightened  inhabitants  peered  out  of  their 
windows  to  see  what  the  armies  were  doing 
to  cause  such  a  lull,  and,  almost  afraid  of 
their  own  shadows,  they  hastened  away 
and  crouched  in  corners  and  cellars  at  the 
sound  of  every  shot  or  shell. 

Of  the  stirring  scenes  that  so  soon  fol- 
lowed, the  same  correspondent  says :  Gen- 
eral Lee's  evacuation,  however,  had  no 
effect.  Meade  was  neither  to  be  enticed 
into  the  town  nor  into  the  valley.  Enough 
dead  bodies  lay  in  the  fields  and  streets  to 
give  him  warning  of  what  happened  to 
poor  Reynolds  two  days  before,  and  he 
wisely  determined  to  stay  where  he  was 
and  let  events  shape  themselves.  The 
confederates  soon  became  impatient.  They 
could  wait  no  longer;  and  after  much 
solicitation  from  his  subordinates,  General 


Lee  permitted  General  Longstreet  to  send 
his  grand  division  on  a  charge  upon  the 
cemetery.  The  federal  soldiers  were  on 
the  alert.  They  were  hid  behind  their 
embankments,  some  kneeling,  and  some 
flat  on  the  ground.  The  confederate  artil- 
lery opened.  It  was  as  fierce  a  cannonade 
as  the  one  the  day  before,  but  instead  of 
being  spread  all  over  the  line,  every  shell 
was  thrown  at  the  cemetery.  Experienced 
soldiers  soon  divined  what  was  coming, 
and,  in  every  portion  of  the  federal  line, 
the  cannon  were  directed  toward  the  valley 
in  front  of  the  cemetery.  All  were  ready. 
Amidst  the  furious  fire  from  the  confeder- 


ate cannon  scarcely  a  federal  s,hot  was 
heard.  The  artillerists,  implements  in 
hand,  crouched  in  the  little  ditches  dug 
behind  their  cannon.  With  arms  loaded, 
the  infantry  awaited  the  charge.  It  soon 
came.  From  the  woods  of  short,  scrubby 
timber  and  the  rocks  near  the  seminary, 
there  rose  a  yell.  It  was  a  long,  loud, 
unremitting,  hideous  screech,  from  thou- 
sands of  voices.  At  the  yell,  the  federal 
cannon  opened.  Soon  the  confederate  col- 
umns emerged  from  the  woods.  They 
came  on  a  rush  down  the  hill,  waving  their 
arms  and  still  screeching.  They  climbed 
the  fences  and  rushed  along,  each  one  bent 
upon  getting  first  into  the  cemetery.  The 
cannon  roared,  and  grape  and  canister  and 
spherical  case  fell  thick  among  them. 
Still  they  rushed  onward,  hundreds  falling 
out  of  the  line.  They  came  within  musket- 
shot  of  the  federal  troops.  Then  the  small 
arms  began  to  rattle.  The  confederates 
approached  the  outer  line  of  works.  They 
were  laboring  up  the  hill.  As  they 
mounted  the  low  bank  in  front  of  the  rifle- 
pits,  the  federal  soldiers  retreated  out  of 
the  ditch  behind,  turning  and  firing  as 
they  went  along.  It  was  a  hand-to-hand 
conflict.  Every  man  fought  for  himself 
and  by  himself.  Myriads  of  conf .  derates 
pushed  forward  down  the  hill,  across  into 
the  works,  and  up  to  the  cemetery.  All 
were  shouting,  and  screaming,  and  swear- 
ing, clashing  their  arms  and  firing  their 
pieces.  The  confederate  shells  flew  over 
the  field  upon  the  federal  artillerists  on 
the  hills  above.  These,  almost  disregard- 
ing the  storm  which  raged  around  them, 
directed  all  their  fire  upon  the  surging 
columns  of  the  enemy's  charge.  Every 
available  cannon  on  Cemetery  Hill,  and  to 
the  right  and  left,  threw  its  shells  and 
shot  in  the  valley.  The  fight  was  terrible ; 
but,  despite  every  effort,  the  confederates 
pushed  up  the  hill  and  across  the  second 
line  of  works.  The  fire  became  hotter. 
The  fight  swayed  back  and  forth.  One 
moment  the  confederates  would  beat  the 
railings  of  the  cemetery;  then  a  rush 
from  the  federal  side  would  drive  them 
down  into  the  valley.  Then,  with  one  of 


666 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


their  horrid  screeches,  they  would  fiercely 
run  up  the  hill  again  into  the  cemetery, 
and  have  a  fierce  battle  among  the  tomb- 
stones. It  was  the  hardest  fight  of  the 
day,  and  hundreds  were  slain  tnere.  Sev- 
eral attempts  were  made  to  take  the  place, 
but  they  were  not  successful,  and  late  in 
the  afternoon,  leaving  dead  and  wounded 
behind  them,  the  confederate  forces  re- 
treated upon  their  own  hill  and  into  their 
woods  again.  They  were  not  routed. 
Th°y  jan  scarcely  be  said  to  have  been 
driven.  They  made  an  attack  and  were 
repulsed,  and,  after  renewed  attempts, 
feeling  that  it  was  useless  to  try  any  more, 
they  retreated.  It  was  now  General 
Meade's  turn  to  make  an  attack.  Though 
they  had  lost  heavily  they  felt  elated. 
They  saw  hopes  of  a  victory,  and  were 
ready  to  do  almost  anything  to  secure  it. 
Although  there  had  been  a  battle  in  the 
valley  below  Gettysburg,  yet  the  town  was 
as  quiet  and  as  much  deserted  as  ever. 
Shells  flew  over  it,  and  now  and  then  one 
of  its  houses  would  have  a  wall  cracked  or 
a  roof  broken,  but  neither  force  possessed 
it.  General  Meade  turned  his  attention 
there. 

The  day  was  waning  and  the  battle  had 
lulled,  r;nd  Meade  determined,  if  possible, 
to  drive  the  confederates  out  of  the  semin- 
ary. This  was  done,  according  to  the 
writer  already  quoted,  as  follows:  His 
troops  were  placed  in  order,  and  charged 
down  the  hill  and  into  the  town.  They 
ran  along  every  street,  chasing  a  few  of 
the  enemy  still  hid  there,  before  them. 
They  came  out  upon  the  west  side,  along 
the  Emmettsburg  and  Chambersburg 
roads,  and  ascended  the  enemy's  hills 
amidst  a  storm  of  grape  and  shell.  At 
the  seminary  the  confederates  were  not 
very  strong.  They  had  weakened  that 
portion  of  the  line  to  make  their  attack 
further  to  the  south  upon  the  cemetery. 
They  had  but  few  cannon ;  and  though 
they  resisted  some  time,  they  finally  re- 
treated from  the  edge  of  the  hill  and  aban- 
doned the  seminary.  The  federal  troops 
did  not  chase  them.  The  land  back  of  the 
seminary  was  rather  flat  and  cut  up  into 


grain  fields,  with  here  and  there  a  patch 
of  woods.  The  rifle-pits  on  the  brow  of 
the  hill  proved  an  effectual  aid  to  the  fed- 
eral soldiers  in  maintaining  their  ground; 
and  as  they  lay  behind  the  bank,  with  the 
ditch  in  front,  they  could  pick  off  the 
stragglers  from  the  retreating  enemy. 
There  was  but  little  serious  fighting  after 
that,  and  night  put  an  end  to  Friday's 
struggle,  the  confederates  having  retired 
about  a  mile  on  the  north,  near  the  semin- 
ary, and  half  a  mile  on  the  south,  at  a 
little  stream.  During  the  night,  the  dead 
in  the  streets  of  Gettysburg  were  buried, 
and  the  wounaed  on  all  parts  of  the  field 
were  collected  and  carried  to  the  rear.  On 
the  next  morning,  General  Meade  expected 
another  attack ;  but,  instead  of  making  it, 
the  confederates  retreated  further,  aban- 
doning their  entire  line  of  battle,  and  the 
pickets  reported  that  they  were  intrench- 
ing at  the  foot  of  South  Mountain.  The 
federal  army  was  terribly  crippled  and 
sadly  in  need  of  rest,  and  no  advance  was 
made,  although  pickets  were  thrown  across 
the  enemy's  old  line  of  battle,  and  toward 
the  place  where  they  were  building  in- 
trenchments.  All  the  day  was  spent  in 
feeding  and  resting  the  men.  Gettysburg 
was  turned  into  a  vast  hospital,  and  im- 
promptu ones  were  made  at  a  dozen  places 
on  the  field.  The  rain  came,  too,  and  with 
it  cool  air  and  refreshment  both  from  wind 
and  rain.  No  one  could  tell  what  the  con. 
federates  were  doing ;  every  picket  reported 
that  they  were  intrenching,  and  the  night 
of  the  fourth  of  July  closed  upon  the  field, 
the  federal  army  being  in  full  possession. 

The  gallant  charge  made  by  the  division 
under  Crawford's  command,  contributed 
very  materially  to  saving  the  left  of  the 
federal  army.  The  confederates  had 
massed  their  troops  on  Crawford's  left. 
The  third  corps,  Sickles's,  had  been  en- 
gaging the  enemy,  but  were  overpow- 
ered, and  several  guns  had  been  lost. 
Two  divisions,  of  the  fifth  corps,  Sykes's, 
had  been  also  engaged,  but  nothing  could 
withstand  the  confederate  pressure,  and 
their  troops  gave  way.  Several  thou- 
sand arms  had  been  lost.  On  came  the 


BATTLE  OF  GEJ  TYSJtiUKU. 


667 


568 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


confederates  in  a  dark  mass,  across  the 
wheat  field,  over  the  stoue  wall,  and  across 
the  ravine.  At  this  moment,  while  the 
fugitives  were  rushing  through  Crawford's 
ranks,  he  ordered  a  charge.  He  was 
drawn  up  in  line  of  battle,  and  in  column 
of  division.  His  men,  with  loud  cheers, 
rushed  forward.  Crawford  himself  rode  to 
the  front,  and,  seizing  the  flag  of  the  lead- 
ing regiment,  encouraged  the  men.  They 
dashed  in;  volley  after  volley  was  poured 
into  the  <:i  ufederate  ranks.  The  federals 
got  ahead,  an J  drove  the  confederates  back 
across  the  ravine,  over  the  stone  wall,  and 
through  the  wheat  field,  retaking  the 
unionists'  ground  and  an  immense  quantity 
of  arms.  The  left  of  the  federal  position 
was  saved  by  this  charge,  enabling  them 
to  remain  masters  of  the  field. 

A  fit  illustration  of  the  sanguinary  char- 
acter of  the  afternoon  struggle  already  de- 
scribed, is  that  given  by  Mr.  Whitelaw  Reid, 
one  of  the  gifted  correspondents  of  the  Cin- 
cinnati Gazette.  Mr.  Reid  says  that  some 
Massachusetts  batteries  —  Captain  Bige- 
low's,  Captain  PhilHps's,  and  two  or  three 
more  under  Captain  McGilvry,  of  Maine 
— were  planted  on  the  extreme  left,  ad- 
vanced now  well  down  to  the  Emmettsburg 
road,  with  infantry  in  their  front, — the 
first  division  of  Sickles's  corps.  A  little 
after  five,  a  fierce  confederate  charge  drove 
back  the  infantry  and  menaced  the  batter- 
ies. Orders  were  sent  to  Bigelow  on  the 
extreme  left,  to  hold  his  position  at  every 
\azard  short  of  sheer  annihilation,  till  a 
couple  more  batteries  could  be  brought  to 
bis  support.  Reserving  his  fire  a  little, 
then  with  depressed  guns  opening  with 
double  charges  of  grape  and  canister,  he 
smote  and  shattered,  but  could  not  break 
the  advancing  line.  His  grape  and  canis- 
ter became  exhausted,  and  still,  closing 
grandly  up  over  their  slain,  on  they  rushed. 
He  fell  back  on  spherical  case,  and  poured 
this  in  at  the  shortest  range.  On,  still 
onward,  came  the  artillery-defying  line, 
and  still  he  held  his  position.  They  got 
within  six  paces  of  the  guns — he  fired 
again.  Once  more,  and  he  blew  devoted 
soldiers  from  their  very  muzzles.  And, 


still  mindful  of  that  solemn  order,  he  held 
his  place ;  they  spring  upon  his  carriages, 
and  shoot  his  horses !  And  then,  his 
Yankee  artillerists  still  about  him,  he 
seized  the  guns  by  hand,  and  from  the 
very  front  of  that  line  dragged  two  of  them 
off.  The  caissons  were  farther  back — five 
out  of  the  six  are  saved.  That  single  com- 
pany, in  that  half  hour's  fight,  lost  thirtjr- 
three  of  its  men,  including  every  sergeant 
it  had,  and  the  captain  himself  was 
wounded.  Yet  it  was  the  first  time  it  was 
ever  under  fire.  So  they  fought  along 
that  fiery  line !  The  confederates  now 
poured  upon  PhilHps's  battery,  and  it,  too, 
was  forced  to  drag  off  the  pieces  by  hand 
when  the  horses  were  shot  down.  From  a 
new  position,  it  opened  again ;  and  at  last 
the  two  re-enforcing  batteries  came  up  on 
the  gallop.  An  enfilading  fire  swept  the 
confederate  line  ;  Sickles's  gallant  infantry 
charged,  the  confederate  line  swept  back 
on  a  refluent  tide — the  unionists  regained 
their  lost  ground,  and  every  gun  they  had 
just  lost  in  this  splendid  fight. 

Mr.  Reid,  as  an  eye  witness,  character- 
ises the  sanguinary  struggle  at  four  o'clock 
as  the  great,  desperate,  and  final  charge. 
The  confederates  seemed  to  have  gathered 
up  all  their  strength  and  desperation  for 
one  fierce,  convulsive  effort,  that  should 
sweep  over  and  wash  out  all  resistance. 
They  swept  up  as  before;  the  flower  of 
their  army  to  the  front — victory  staked 
upon  the  issue.  In  some  places,  they  lit- 
erallj-  lifted  up  and  pushed  back  the  union 
lines;  but,  that  terrible  ' position '  of  the 
federals  ! — wherever  they  entered  it,  enfi- 
lading fires  from  half  a  score  of  crests 
swept  away  their  columns  like  merest 
chaff.  Broken  and  hurled  back,  they 
easily  became  prisoners;  and  on  the  center 
and  left,  the  last  half  hour  brought  more 
prisoners  than  all  the  rest.  So  it  was 
along  the  whole  line ;  but  it  was  on  the 
second  corps  that  the  flower  of  the  confed- 
erate army  was  concentrated ;  it  was  there 
that  the  heaviest  shock  beat  upon,  and 
shook,  and  even  sometimes  crumbled,  the 
federal  line.  The  federals  had  some  shal- 
low rifle-pits,  with  barricades  of  rails  from 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


569 


the  fences.  The  confederate  line,  stretch- 
ing away  miles  to  the  left,  in  magnificent 
array,  but  strongest  here, — Pickett's  splen- 
did division  of  Longstreet's  corps  in  front, 
the  best  of  A.  P.  Hill's  veterans  in  support 
— came  steadily,  and  as  it  seemed  resist- 
lessly,  sweeping  up.  The  federal  skir- 
mishers retired  slowly  from  the  Emmetts- 
burg  road,  holding  their  ground  tenaciously 
to  the  last.  The  confederates  reserved 
their  fire  till  they  reached  this  same  Em- 
mettsburg  road,  then  opened  with  a  ter- 
rific crash.  From  a  hundred  iron  throats, 
meantime,  their  artillery  had  been  thun- 
dering on  the  union  barricades.  Hancock 
was  wounded ;  Gibbon  succeeded  to  the 
command — approved  soldier,  and  ready  for 


mere  machine  strength  of  their  combined 
action — swept  the  conlederates  on.  The 
federal  thin  line  could  fight,  but  it  had  not 
weight  enough  to  oppose  to  this  momen- 
tum. It  was  pushed  behind  the  guns. 
Right  on  came  the  confederates.  They 
were  upon  the  guns — were  bayoneting  the 
gunners — were  waving  their  flags  above 
the  federal  pieces.  But  they  had  pene- 
trated to  the  fatal  point.  A  storm  of 
grape  and  canister  tore  its  way  from  man 
to  man,  and  marked  its  track  with  corpses 
straight  down  their  line !  They  had  ex- 
posed themselves  to  the  enfilading  fire  of 
the  guns  on  the  western  slope  of  Cemetery 
Hill ;  that  exposure  sealed  their  fate.  The 
line  reeled  back — disjointed  already — in 


\ 


the  crisis.  As  the  tempest  of  fire  ap- 
proached its  height,  he  walked  along  the 
line,  and  renewed  his  orders  to  the  men  to 
reserve  their  fire.  The  confederates — 
three  lines  deep — came  steadily  up.  They 
were  in  point-blank  range.  At  last  the 
order  came !  From  thrice  six  thousand 
guns,  there  came  a  sheet  of  smoky  flame, 
a  crash,  a  rush  of  leaden  death.  The  line 
literally  melted  away ;  hut  there  came  the 
second,  resistless  still.  It  had  been  the 
unionists'  supreme  effort — on  the  instant, 
they  were  not  equal  to  another.  Up  to 
the  rifle-pits,  across  them,  over  the  barri- 
cades— the  momentum  of  their  charge,  the 


an  instant  in  fragments.  The  union 
troops  were  just  behind  the  guns.  They 
leaped  forward  upon  the  disordered  mass ; 
but  there  was  little  need  for  fighting  now. 
A  regiment  threw  down  its  arms,  and, 
with  colors  at  its  head,  rushed  ovei1  and 
surrendered.  All  along  the  field,  smaller 
detachments  did  the  same.  Webb's  bri- 
gade brought  in  eight  hundred;  Gibbon's 
old  division  took  fifteen  stand  of  colors. 
Over  the  fields,  the  escaped  fragments  of 
the  charging  line  fell  back — the  battle 
there  was  over.  A  single  brigade,  Har- 
row's, came  out  with  fifty-four  less  officers, 
and  seven  hundred  and  ninety-three  less 


570 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


men  (the  Seventh  Michigan  regiment  was 
«f  this  brigade,)  than  it  took  in.  So  the 
whole  corps  fought — so  too  they  fought 
farther  down  the  line.  It  was  fruitless 
sacrifice.  They  gathered  up  their  broken 
fragments,  formed  their  lines,  and  slowly 
marched  away.  It  was  not  a  rout,  it  was 
a  bitter,  crushing  defeat, 

Among  the  individual  instances  of  brav- 
ery narrated  of  this  terrible  combat  be- 
tween the  two  great  armies,  that  of  Henry 
Shaler,  of  Indianapolis,  will  bear  repeti- 
tion, for  he  seems  to  have  more  than 
equaled  the  self-told  mythical  performance 
of  the  Irishman  who  'surrounded'  a  half- 
dizen  of  the  enemy  and  bagged  them 
plump.  Shaler  took  mere  prisoners  in 
this  battle  than  any  other  man  in  the 
army — in  all,  twenty-five  men,  including 
one  lieutenant  and  eighteen  privates  at 
one  swoop.  He  took  them  by  strategy  of 
the  most  undoubted  kind ;  that  is,  he  sur- 
rounded them,  and  they  had  to  give  up. 
On  the  morning  of  the  fourth,  he  went  out 
with  his  'poncho'  over  his  shoulders,  so 
that  the  confederates  couldn't  see  his  coat, 
and  thus  they  thought  he  was  one  of  their 
own  men.  He  went  up  and  told  them  to 
lay  down  their  arms  and  come  and  help 
carry  some  wounded  off  the  field ;  they 
did  so.  When  he  got  them  away  from 
their  arms,  he  rode  up  to  the  lieutenant 
and  told  him  to  give  up  his  sword.  The 
lieutenant  refused  at  first,  but  Shaler  drew 
his  revolver,  and  the  lieutenant  yielded 
•without  a  shot,  and  the  whole  squad  were 
then  escorted  by  their  gallant  captor  into 
camp. 

The  heroism  of  General  Kilpatrick — 
like  that  of  Couch,  Geary,  Buford,  Birney, 
Newton,  Gregg,  Mclntosh,  Neil,  and  oth- 
ers— was  conspicuous  Irom  first  to  last. 
On  the  thirteenth,  some  nen  days  after  the 
close  of  the  conflict,  General  Kilpatrick 
was  anxious  to  make  an  advance,  but 
could  not  obtain  orders.  Some  of  the 
Pennsylvania  militia  having  been  placed 
at  his  disposal,  he  thought  he  would  try 
one  regiment  under  fire.  The  Philadel- 
phia Blues  were  selected,  and,  accompa- 
nied by  the  First  Vermont  cavalry,  a  dem- 


onstration was  made  on  the  right — the 
confederates  then  oecupying  a  fortified 
position.  The  militia  were  now  deployed, 
the  general  desiring  them  to  move  to  the 
crest  of  a  knoll,  where  the  bullets  were 
flying  pretty  lively.  There  was  some  hes- 
itancy at  first,  whereupon  a  battle-flag  pre- 
sented to  the  division  by  the  ladies  of 
Boonsboro'  was  sent  to  the  front.  Ser- 
geant Judy,  bearer  of  the  flag,  cried  out — 

"  This  is  General  Kilpatrick' s  battle- 
flay  ;  jollow  it !  " 

The  militia  obeyed  the  summons 
promptly,  and  fell  some  distance  in  front 
of  the  line,  and  it  was  supposed  for  some 
time  that  the  enemy  had  captured  the  flag; 
but  at  night,  when  Judy  was  brought  in 
on  a  litter,  he  proudly  waved  the  battle- 
flag.  The  novelty  of  being  thus  under 
fire  for  the  first  time  was  keenly  felt  by 
the  militia.  About  the  first  man  touched 
had  the  top  of  his  head  grazed  just  close 
enough  to  draw  blood.  He  halted — threw 
down  his  musket  —  truly  an  astonished 
man  !  One  or  two  officers  and  a  dozen  or 
more  privates  ran  hurriedly  to  see  what 
the  matter  was.  Running  both  hands  over 
his  pate,  and  seeing  blood,  he  exclaimed, 
"  A  ball !  a  ball  ! " — while  the  others  stood 
on  agape  with  astonishment,  until  the 
shrill  voice  of  the  general  sounded  in  their 
ears  :  "  Move  on  there  !  " 

On  the  opening  movement  being  made 
to  baffle  Lee's  march  toward  Pennsylva- 
nia, the  spirit  which  animated  those  who 
had  gone  forth  in  defense  of  the  American 
Union — "man's  last,  best  hope,  of  free 
government,"  —  was  conspicuously  mani- 
fest. At  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles  from 
Gettysburg,  where  the  armies  were  mass- 
ing, were  first  caught  the  murmurs  of  the 
opening  battle,  and  from  that  time  the 
scene  was  all  enthusiasm  among  the  weary, 
foot-sore  federals,  who  counted  as  nothing 
all  the  pains  of  a  march  of  nearly  two  hun- 
dred miles,  now  that  they  were  within 
striking  distance  of  the  foe.  Most  of  the 
way,  the  ambulance  train  had  been  crowded 
with  both  officers  and  men,  weary,  worn, 
and  haggard ;  but  the  cannon's  rattle,  a* 
it  became  more  and  more  distinct,  changed 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


571 


them  in  a  twinkling  into  new  creatures. 
The  New  Jersey  brigade,  in  Sedgwick's 
corps,  was  of  this  body.  At  about  three 
o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  July  3d,  the 
head  of  the  column  arrived  on  the  battle- 
ground. As  it  came  to  a  halt,  a  poor  fel- 


8OLDIBRS'  MONUMENT  AT  GETTYSBOBG. 

low,  who  looked  the  very  image  of  death, 
hobbled  out  of  the  ambulance  in  which  he 
had    been    lying,    and,    shouldering    his 
musket,  was  just  starting  forward,  when 
the  surgeon  stopped  him  with — 
"  Where  are  you  going,  sir  ?  " 
"  To  the  front,  doctor," — and  the  brave 
fellow  tried  hard  to  stand  firm  and  speak 
boldly  as  he  saluted  the  surgeon. 

"To  the  front!     What !  a  man  in  your 
condition  ?      Why,  sir,  you  can't  march 


half  a  mile;  you  haven't  the  strength  to 
carry  yourself,  let  alone  your  knapsack, 
musket,  and  equipments.  You  must  be 
crazy,  surely." 

'•  But,  doctor,  my  division  are  in  the 
fight,"  (here  he  grasped  the  wheel  of  an 
ambulance  to  support  himself,)  "and  I  have 
a  younger  brother  in  my  company.  I 
must  go." 

"  But  I  am  your  surgeon,  and  I  forbid 
you.  You  have  every  symptom  of  ty- 
phoid fever;  a  little  over-exertion  will  kill 
you." 

"Well,  doctor,  if  I  must  die,  I  would 
rather  die  in  the  field,  than  in  an  ambu- 
lance." 

The  doctor  saw  it  was  useless  to  debate 
the  point,  and  the  soldier  went  as  he  de- 
sired. But  on  the  evening  of  the  next 
day  he  was  buried  where  he  fell — for  fall 
he  did — his  right  arm  blown  off  at  the 
elbow,  and  his  forehead  pierced  by  a  minie 
ball. 

The  impetuous  bravery  with  -which  the 
confederate  troops  fought  is  illustrated  by 
the  fact  that  every  brigadier  inPickett's  di- 
vision was  killed  or  wounded ;  out  of  twen- 
ty-four regimental  officers,  only  two  escaped 
unhurt ;  the  colonels  of  five  Virginia  reg- 
iments were  killed;  the  ninth  Virginia 
went  in  with  two  hundred  and  fifty  men, 
and  came  out  with  only  thirty-eight. 
These  data  show  that  the  total  casualties 
of  the  confederate  army,  though  never 
officially  published,  must  have  been  im- 
mense— greater,  probably,  than  those  of 
the  victorious.  The  latter,  as  given  by 
General  Meade,  were  as  follows:  two 
thousand  and  eight  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  killed;  thirteen  thousand  and  seven 
hundred  and  nine  wounded;  six  thou- 
sand and  six  hundred  and  forty-three 
missing.  The  union  army  took  forty- 
one  standards,  nearly  twenty-five  thou- 
sand small  arms,  and  about  fourteen 
thousand  prisoners. 

So  great  was  the  joy  throughout  the 
loyal  states,  as  the  tidings  of  victory 
flashed  across  the  wires,  that,  on  the  fore- 
noon of  July  4th,  President  Lincoln  offi- 
cially telegraphed  as  follows : 


572 


BATTLE  OF  GETTYSBURG. 


"The  President  announces  to  the  coun- 
try that  news  from  the  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac, up  to  10  p.  M.  of  the  3d,  is  such  as  to 
cover  that  army  with  the  highest  honor ; 
to  promise  a  great  success  to  the  cause  of 
the  Union,  and  to  claim  the  condolence 


of  all  for  the  many  gallant  fallen;  and 
that  for  this  he  especially  desires  that 
on  this  day,  He,  whose  will,  not  ours, 
should  ever  be  done,  be  everywhere  re- 
membered and  reverenced  with  profound- 
est  gratitude." 


LXIX. 

ORATORICAL  CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN 
ENGLAND,  BY  REV.  H.  W.   BEECHER.— 1863. 


His  Olympian  Speeches,  in  Defiance  of  British  Sentiment,  in  the  Great  Cities  of  the  Kingdom. — Hia 
Eloquence  Rises  to  the  Very  Crown  of  the  Occasion. — Superb  Exhibition  of  Forensic  Power  in  Liv- 
erpool.— He  Wrestles,  Single- Handed  and  Triumphantly,  for  Three  Hours,  with  a  Vast  and  Tumul- 
tuous Mob  in  that  City. — Reception  at  Exeter  Hall,  London. — Mr.  Beecher's  Tour  Undertaken  for  His 
Health. — Reaches  England,  Homeward  Bound.  —  Civil  Conflict  Raging  in  America. — Mr.  Beecher 
Urged  to  Speak  on  United  States  Affairs. — Opening  Speech  in  Manchester. — Great  Audience  of 
Seven  Thousand. — Attempts  to  Silence  Him. — Powerlessness  of  the  Opposition — Splendid  Qualities 
as  an  Orator  — Discussions  in  Glasgow  and  Edinburgh. — Battle  Waged  by  Mr.  Beecher  in  Liverpool. 
— Violent  Efforts  to  Gag  Him.  —  A  Maddened  Sea  of  Insult.  —  Taunts,  Curses,  Hisses,  Fury. — 
Stampings,  Hootings,  Tellings. — Beecher's  Pluck,  and  Good  Humor. — He  Triumphs  Over  the  Wild 
Tempest  — A  Spectacle  Never  Before  Witnessed. — Grand  Closing  Scene  in  the  British  Capital. — 
Vast  and  Excited  Assembly. — He  Carries  the  House  by  Storm. — Plaudits  and  Congratulations. 


"  A  more  remarkable  embassy  than  any  envoy  who  has  represented  us  in  Europe  since  Franklin  pleaded  Uie  cause  of  the  young  Repub- 
lic aithe  Court  of  Versailles."—  TUB  "ATLANTIC  MONTHLY.6 


ECIDEDLY  the  most  memorable  oratorical  success  ever  achieved  by  an  Amer- 
ican citizen  abroad,  in  behalf  of  the  name  and  honor  of  his  country,  was  that 
by  the   Rev.  Henry  Ward   Beecher,  in  England 
during  the  great  conflict  of  arms  then  raging  in 
the  United  States.     Leaving  his  great  parish  in 
the   city  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  in  the   summer  of 
1863,  for  a  tour   in  Europe,  with  a  view   to  the 
restoration  of  his  health,  it  was  not  until  October 
following,  soon  after  reaching  England,  with  his  face  set 
homeward,  that  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  address  a  public 
audience,  as  the  champion  of  the  American  Union,  and  de- 
fender of  the  national  government. 

Beginning  at  Manchester,  October  9th,  Mr.  Beecher  de- 
livered five  great  speeches  in  the  great  cities  of  the  king- 
dom—  Manchester,  Glasgow,  Edinburgh,  Liverpool,  and 
London, — each  speech  being  devoted  to  some  special  train  of 
thought  and  argument  bearing  upon  the  issues  involved  in 
the  momentous  contest ;  and  the  whole  series,  taken  together, 
did  more  for  the  Union  cause  in  Great  Britain  than  all  that 
had  before  been  said  or  written.  Possessing  the  faculty, 
beyond  any  other  American  orator,  of  combining  close, 
rapid,  powerful,  practical  reasoning,  with  intense  passion, — his  mind 
always  aglow  with  his  subject, — the  effect  of  Mr.  Beecher's  speaking 


574 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


is  to  kindle  sympathy,  even  if  it  does  not 
flash  conviction.  It  is  this  quality,  ac- 
cording to  the  opinion  of  those  who  are 
best  acquainted  with  Mr.  Beecher's  oratory, 
which,  combined  with  his  marvelous  power 
of  illustration  —  marvelous  alike  for  its 
intense  vividness  and  unerring  pertinency 
— and  his  great  flexibility,  whereby  Le 
adapts  himself  completely  to  the  exigency 
of  the  instant,  gives  him  a  rare  command 
over  a  popular  assemblage. 

Free  Trade  Hall  was  the  place  selected 
for  Mr.  Beecher's  appearance  in  Man- 
chester. Though  capable  of  holding  seven 
thousand  persons,  the  hall  was  densely 
crowded,  and  the  speaker  received  a  wel- 
come such  as,  in  point  of  enthusiasm,  had 
rarely  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  other  man. 
On  this  occasion,  he  gave  a  history  of  that 
series  of  political  movements,  extending 
through  half  a  century,  the  logical  and 
inevitable  end  of  which  was  open  conflict 
between  the  two  opposing  forces  of  free- 
dom and  slavery.  There  were  in  the 
meeting  a  few  hundred  opponents  who 
frequently  interrupted  Mr.  Beecher,  but 
these  checks  only  served  to  show  how 
powerless  was  the  opposition,  and  how 
forcible  was  the  impression  made  by  the 
speaker.  His  pointed  remarks  were  fre- 
quently greeted  with  rounds  of  applause, 
and  when,  at  the  close  of  his  address,  he 
read  a  telegram  just  received  from  Liver- 
pool, that  the  "  broad  arrow  "  of  the  British 
government  had  that  day  been  placed  upon 
the  suspected  steam-rams  in  the  Mersey, 
the  enthusiasm  reached  its  climax.  The 
whole  audience  rose,  vociferously  cheering, 
and  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs. 

Not  to  dwell  upon  the  scenes  character- 
izing Mr.  Beecher's  efforts  in  Glasgow 
and  Edinburgh,  it  may  be  remarked  that, 
in  Liverpool,  he  waged  such  a  battle  with 
the  vast  and  tumultuous  throng  assembled 
there  to  gas*  and  stifle  him,  as,  perhaps, 
no  other  public  speaker  in  the  world  could 
have  fought,  in  a  strange  land,  and  not 
been  utterly  vanquished.  He  here,  in  this 
great  center  of  commercial  and  manufac- 
turing interests,  labored  to  show  how 
those  interests  are  injured  by  slavery, — 


that  the  attempt  to  cover  the  fairest  por- 
tion of  the  earth  with  a  slave  population 
that  buys  nothing,  and  a  degraded  white 
population  that  buys  next  to  nothing, 
should  array  against  it  the  sympathy  of 
I  every  true  political  economist  and  every 
thoughtful  and  far-seeing  manufacturer,  as 
tending  to  strike  at  the  vital  want  of  com- 
merce, namely,  not  the  want  of  cotton,  but 
the  want  of  customers.  Amidst  the  most 
violent  attempts  to  drown  his  voice  and 
shut  his  lips,  Mr.  Beecher  remained 
master  of  the  platform,  abundantly  prov- 
ing to  the  mob  the  truth  of  his  asser- 
tion, "I  am  born  without  moral  fear.  I 
have  expressed  my  views  in  any  audience, 
and  it  never  cost  me  a  struggle.  I  never 
could  help  doing  it."  So,  too,  in  answer 
to  the  taunts  and  sarcasm  of  those  who 
wished  ill  to  the  Union  and  looked  with 
satisfaction  upon  the  evidences  of  its  ap- 
proaching dismemberment,  came  the  dec- 
laration : 

"  Standing  by  my  cradle,  standing  by 
my  hearth,  standing  by  the  altar  of  the 
church,  standing  by  all  the  places  that 
mark  the  name  and  memory  of  heroic  men 
who  poured  their  blood  and  lives  for  prin- 
ciple, I  declare  that  in  ten  or  twenty  years 
of  war  we  will  sacrifice  everything  we 
have  for  principle.  If  the  love  of  popular 
liberty  is  dead  in  Great  Britain,  you  will 
not  understand  us ;  but  if  the  love  of 
liberty  lives  as  it  once  lived,  and  has 
worthy  successors  of  those  renowned  men 
that  were  our  ancestors  as  much  as  yours, 
and  whose  example  and  principles  we 
inherit  to  make  fruitful  as  so  much  seed- 
corn  in  a  new  and  fertile  land,  then  you 
will  understand  our  firm,  invincible  deter- 
mination— deep  as  the  sea,  firm  as  the 
mountains,  but  calm  as  the  heavens  above 
us — to  fight  this  war  through  at  all  hazards 
and  at  every  cost.  " 

Throughout  all  the  tumultuous  demon- 
strations on  the  part  of  his  Liverpool 
audience,  his  pluck  and  good  humor  never 
for  a  moment  forsook  him.  His  perfect 
self-possession,  his  readiness,  his  jovial 
wit,  gave  him  the  mastery  in  the  fearful 
odds  against  which  he  had  to  battle. 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


575 


Another  orator  might  have  withered  the 
mob  with  invective,  but  he  conquered  them 
with  humor.  He  turned  the  laugh  against 
them.  He  parried  their  blows,  and  at  the 
same  time  struck  home,-  so  that  the  recoil 
made  them  wince  in  spite  of  their  bravado. 
It  was  a  grand  spectacle,  in  St.  George's 
Hall,  Liverpool,  when  he  struggled  for 
nearly  three  livelong  hours  against  that 
raging  sea  of  insult,  taunt,  irony,  imper- 
tinent questioning,  blackguardism,  curses, 
hisses,  cat-calls,  stampings,  hootings,  yell- 
ings — every  possible  manifestation  of  hate, 
every  possible  form  of  disorder  ;  but  this 
strong-winged  bird  of  the  storm  matched 
his  might  against  it — now  soaring  up  to 


In  the  course  of  this  great  and  exciting 
discussion,  the  orator  touched  upon  a  point 
or  question  frequently  asked  and  honestly 
entertained  by  those  not  acquainted  with 
the  structure  of  the  American  government. 
"  It  is  said,  '  Why  not  let  the  South  go  ?  ' 
[Hear,  hear,  and  cheers.]  '  Since  they 
won't  be  at  peace  with  you.  why  do  you 
not  let  them  separate  from  you  ?  '  Because 
they  would  be  less  peaceable  separated 
than  they  are  together.  [Hear,  hear.] 
Oh,  if  the  South  only  would  go  !  [Laugh- 
ter.] They  are  determined  to  stay — that 
is  the  trouble.  [Hear,  hear.]  We  would 
furnish  free  passage  to  every  mother's  son 
of  them,  if  they  would  go.  [Laughter.] 


REV.   a.  W.   BEECHEK  DEFENDING  THE  AMERICAN  UNION,  IN  EXETER  HALL,  LONDON. 


overcome  it — now  sinking  down  to  under- 
mine it — now  dashing  in  its  teeth — now 
half-choked  in  the  gust  of  its  fury,  but 
always  moving  onward,  and  in  the  end  rid- 
ing triumphant  on  the  very  crest  of  its 
wildest  billows.  There  was  not  a  more 
heroic  achievement  on  any  field  of  battle 
during  the  Great  American  Conflict,  than 
the  successful  delivery  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
speech  against  the  tempest  of  odds  which 
opposed  it.  This  is  the  testimony  which 
the  loyal  American  press  universally  bore 
to  the  value  of  Mr.  Beecher's  efforts  in 
vindicating  the  national  cause  so  courage- 
ously and  ably. 


But  we  say,  '  That  territory  is  ours  I ' 
[Cheers.]  Let  them  go,  and  leave  the 
nation  its  territory,  and  they  will  have  our 
unanimous  consent.  [Renewed  cheers.] 
But  I  do  not  wish  to  discuss  this  even  in 
in  this  ad  captandutn  way.  I  wish — 
because  this  seems  to  me  the  very  marrow 
of  the  matter — I  wish  to  ask  you  to  stand 
in  our  place  for  a  little  time,  and  see  this 
question  as  we  see  it,  then  afterwards 
make  up  your  judgment  as  you  think  best. 
[Hear,  hear.]  And  first,  this  war  began 
by  the  act  of  the  South — firing  at  that 
old  flag  that  had  covered  both  sections 
i  with  glory  and  protection.  [Applause. "1 


576 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


(Some  gentleman  on  the  platform  here 
offered  Mr.  Beecher  a  glass  of  water.) 
No,  thank  you  (said  Mr.  Beecher) ;  I 
want  neither  water  nor  lozenges.  [Laugh- 
ter.] Time,  patience,  and  my  own  good 
lungs,  will  make  me  heard.  I  expect  to 
be  hoarse  ;  I  am  willing  to  be  hoarse.  I 
think  that  if  I  might  but  bring  the  mother 
aad  the  daughter  heart  to  heart  and  hand 
to  hand  [loud  applause],  I  would  be  will- 
ing to  be  silent  for  a  twelvemonth  in  so 
good  a  work  as  that.  [Cheers.]  The  war 
began  under  circumstances  that  obliged 
the  North  to  join  issue  in  order  to  prevent 
actual  humiliation  and  subjugation.  .  . 
.  .  And  for  the  North  to  have  lain  down 
like  a  spaniel — to  have  given  up  the  terri- 
tory that  every  child  in  America  is  taught, 
as  every  child  in  Britain  is  taught,  to 
regard  as  his  sacred  right  and  his  trust — 
to  have  given  that  territory  up  without  a 
thought,  without  a  blow,  would  have 
marked  the  North  to  all  eternity  as  craven 
and  mean  beyond  expression."  [Loud 
cheers  and  some  hisses.] 

Equally  forcible  and  felicitous  was  the 
manner  in  which  Mr.  Beecher  met  his  oppo- 
nents on  another  point.  "  But  I  hear," 
said  Mr.  Beecher,  "  a  loud  protest  against 
war.  [Hear,  hear.]  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, Mr.  Chairman  :  There  is  a  small 
band  in  our  country  and  in  yours — I  wish 
their  number  were  quadrupled — who  have 
borne  a  solemn  and  painful  testimony 
against  all  wars,  under  all  circumstances  ; 
and  although  I  differ  with  them  on  the 
subject  of  defensive  warfare,  yet  when 
men  that  rebuked  their  own  land,  and  all 
lands,  now  rebuke  us,  though  I  cannot 
accept  their  judgment,  I  bow  with  pro- 
found respect  to  their  consistency.  [Hear, 
hear,  and  cheers.]  But  excepting  them, 
I  regard  this  British  horror  of  the  Ameri- 
can war  as  something  wonderful.  [Re- 
newed cheers  and  laughter.]  Why,  it  is 
a  phenomenon  in  itself  !  On  what  shore 
has  not  the  prow  of  your  ships  dashed  ? 
[Hear,  hear.]  What  land  is  there  with  a 
name  and  a  people  where  your  banner 
has  not  led  your  soldiers  ?  [Hear, 
hear.]  And  when  the  great  resurrection 


reveille  shall  sound,  it  will  muster  British 
soldiers  from  every  clime  and  people  under 
the  whole  heaven.  [Cheers.]  Ah,  but  it 
is  said  this  is  a  war  against  your  own 
blood.  [Hear,  hear.]  How  long  is  it 
since  you  poured  soldiers  into  Canada,  and 
let  all  your  yards  work  night  and  day  to 
avenge  the  taking  of  two  men  put  of  the 
Trent?  [Loud  applause.]  Old  England 
shocked  at  a  war  of  principle  !  She  gained 
•  her  glories  in  such  a  war.  [Cheers.] 
Old  England  ashamed  of  a  war  of  princi- 
ple !  Her  national  ensign  symbolizes 
her  history  —  the  cross  in  a  field  of 
blood.  [Cheers.]  And  will  you  tell  us — 
who  inherit  your  blood,  your  ideas,  and 
your  pluck  [cheers] — that  we  must  not 
fight  ?  "  [Cheers.] 

Exeter  Hall,  London,  was  the  scene  of 
Mr.  Beecher's  last  and,  perhaps,  greatest 
oratorical  effort,  in  defense  of  the  Ameri- 
can Union — the  undivided  nationality  of 
the  American  Republic.  This  speech  was 
delivered  under  the  auspices  of  the  Eman- 
cipation Society,  October  20th,  and  the 
meeting  was  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic 
ever  held  in  the  English  metropolis.  The 
admission  was  by  tickets,  the  lowest 
charge  for  which  was  one  shilling,  and  for 
the  reserved  seats,  of  which  there  were 
four  hundred,  the  charge  was  two  shillings 
and  sixpence.  More  than  an  hour  before 
the  time  for  the  proceedings  to  commence, 
the  main  entrance  in  the  Strand  was 
besieged  by  crowds  of  persons  anxious  to 
obtain  egress,  and,  soon  after  the  doors 
were  opened,  the  vast  hall  was  filled  to 
suffocation,  and  thousands  were  outside 
seeking  but  unable  to  obtain  admission. 

Outside,  the  scene  was  of  a  most  extraor- 
dinary description.  The  speech,  as  adver- 
tised, was  to  begin  at  seven  o'clock,  and  it 
was  announced  that  the  doors  would  be 
opened  at  half-past  six.  The  crowd,  how- 
ever, began  to  assemble  as  early  as  five 
o'clock,  and,  before  six,  it  became  so  dense 
and  numerous,  as  completely  to  block  up 
not  only  the  footway  but  the  carriage-way 
of  the  Strand,  and  the  committee  of  man- 
agement determined,  therefore,  to  throw 
open  the  doors  at  once.  The  rush  that 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


>77 


took  place  was  of  the  most  tremendous 
character,  and  the  hall,  in  every  available 
part,  became  filled  to  overflowing,  in  a 
few  minutes.  But,  notwithstanding  this, 
no  perceptible  diminution  was  made  in  the 
crowd  outside,  and,  at  halt-past  six,  there 
were  thousands  of  well-dressed  persons 
struggling  to  get  in,  despite  the  placards 
exhibited,  announcing  the  hall  to  be 
"quite  full." 

The  policemen  and  hall-keepers  were 
powerless  to  contend  against  this  immense 
crowd,  who  ultimately  filled  the  spacious 
corridors  and  staircases  leading  to  the  hall, 
still  leaving  a  prodigious  multitude  both 
in  the  Strand  and  Burleigh  street.  At  ten 
minutes  before  seven  o'clock,  Mr.  Scott, 
the  city  chamberlain,  and  the  chairman  of 
the  meeting,  accompanied  by  a  large  body 
of  the  committee  of  the  Emancipation 
Society,  arrived,  but  were  unable  to  make 
their  way  through  the  crowd,  and  a  mes- 
senger was  dispatched  to  the  Bow  street 
police  station,  for  an  extra  body  of  police. 
About  thirty  of  the  reserve  men  were 
immediately  sent,  and  these,  aided  by  the 
men  already  on  duty,  at  last  succeeded  in 
forcing  a  passage  for  the  chairman  and  his 
friends.  Mr.  Beecher  at  this  time  arrived, 
but  was  himself  unable  to  gain  admit- 
tance to  the  hall  until  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
after  the  time  appointed  for  the  commence- 
ment of  his  address.  The  reverend  gen- 
tleman bore  his  detention  in  the  crowd 
with  great  good  humor,  and  was  received 
with  a  perfect  ovation,  the  crowd  pressing 
forward  in  all  directions  to  shake  hands 
with  him.  He  was  at  last  fairly  carried 
into  the  hall  on  the  shoulders  of  thepolice- 
men,  and  the  doors  of  the  hall  were  at 
once  closed  and  guarded  by  a  body  of 
police,  who  distinctly  announced  that  no 
more  persons  would  be  admitted.'  whether 
holding  tickets  or  not.  This  had  the  effect 
of  thinning  to  some  extent  the  throng  out- 
side, but  thousands  yet  remained  there, 
eager  to  seize  any  chance  for  admission 
that  arose. 

At  a  quarter-past  seven  o'clock,  a  tre- 
mendous   burst    of   cheering  from  within 
the  building,  plainly  proclaimed  that  Mr. 
37 


Beecher  had  made  his  appearance  on  the 
platform.  The  cheering  was  taken  up  by 
the  outsiders,  and  re-echoed  again  and 
again.  The  bulk  of  the  crowd  had  now 
congregated  in  Burleigh  street,  which  was 
completely  filled,  and  loud  cries  were  raised 
for  some  members  of  the  emancipation 
committee  to  address  them,  but  the  call 
was  not  responded  to.  Several  impromptu 
speakers,  mounted  upon  the  shoulders  of 
some  workingmen  and  addressed  the  peo- 
ple in  favor  of  the  policy  of  the  federal 
government,  their  remarks  being  received 
with  loud  cheering  from  the  large  majority 
of  those  present. 

One  or  two  speakers  raised  their  voices 
in  opposition  to  the  views  which  had  been 
advocated  by  Mr.  Beecher,  but  they  were 
speedily  dislodged  from  their  position  by 
the  mass  of  the  crowd,  whose  sympathies 
were  thus  unmistakably  exhibited.  Every 
burst  of  cheering  that  resounded  from 
within  the  hall  was  taken  up  and  as 
heartily  responded  to  by  those  outside. 
This  scene  continued  without  intermission, 
until  the  close  of  the  meeting.  When 
Mr.  Beecher  and  his  friends  issued  from 
the  hall,  they  were  again  received  with 
loud  cheers  ;  and,  a  call  being  made  for  a 
cheer  for  Abraham  Lincoln,  a  response 
went  up  from  thousands  of  voices,  like  the 
noise  of  many  waters,  deep  answering  unto 
deep.  A  strong  body  of  police  were  sta- 
tioned in  the  Strand  and  Burleigh  street, 
but  no  breach  of  the  peace  occurred  calling 
for  their  interference. 

In  this  London  speech,  Mr.  Beecher 
gave  a  passing  resume  of  his  discussions 
of  the  American  question  during  the  last 
few  weeks  ;  At  Manchester,  he  attempted 
to  give  the  history  of  the  external  polit- 
ical movements  for  fifty  years  past,  so  far 
as  was  necessary  to  elucidate  the  fact  that 
the  war  was  only  an  overt  form  of  the  con- 
test between  liberty  and  slavery  which  had 
been  going  on  politically  for  half  a  cen- 
tury. At  Glasgow,  he  undertook  to  show 
that  the  condition  of  work  and  labor  ne- 
cessitated by  any  profitable  system  of 
slavery  was,  that  it  brought  labor  into 
contempt,  affixing  to  it  the  badge  of  deg- 


578 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


radation,  and  that  the  struggle  to  ex- 
tend servile  labor  across  the  American 
continent  interested  every  free  working- 
man  on  the  face  of  the  globe — the  southern 
cause  being  the  natural  enemy  of  free 
labor  and  the  laborer  all  over  the  world. 
In  Edinburgh,  he  endeavored  to  sketch 
how,  out  of  separate  colonies  and  states, 
intensely  jealous  of  their  individual  sover- 
eignty, there  grew  up  a  nation,  and  how 
in  that  nation  of  the  United  States  there 
grew  up  two  distinct  and  antagonistic 
systems  of  development,  striving  for  the 
possession  of  government  and  for  the  con- 
trol of  the  national  policy,  in  which  the 
north  gained  the  control,  and  that  the 
south  joined  the  Union  simply  and  only 
because  it  believed  the  government  would 
be  in  the  hands  of  men  who  would  give 
their  whole  influence  against  the  cause  of 
freedom.  In  Liverpool,  he  labored  to 
show  that  slavery  was,  in  the  long  run, 
hostile  to  commerce  and  manufactures  all 
the  world  over,  as  it  was  to  every  other 
interest  of  human  society ;  that  a  slave 
nation  must  be  a  poor  customer,  buying 
the  smallest  quantity  and  the  poorest 
goods,  at  the  lowest  profit,  and  that  the 
interest  of  every  manufacturing  nation 
was  to  promote  freedom,  intelligence,  and 
wealth,  among  all  nations  ;  and  that  the 
attempt  to  cover  the  fairest  portion  of  the 
earth  with  a  slave  population  which  buys 
nothing,  and  a  degraded  white  population 
which  buys  next  to  nothing,  should  array 
every  political  economist,  every  far-seeing 
manufacturer,  against  it,  as  striking  at  the 
vital  interest  of  the  manufacturer,  not  by 
want  of  cotton,  but  by  want  of  customers. 
From  beginning  to  ending,  the  orator's 
address  was  a  clear,  forcible,  and  thoroughly 
earnest  exposition  of  the  principles  under- 
lying the  great  conflict,  the  course  of 
policy  that  led  to  it,  and  the  tremendous 
issues  at  stake  in  its  decision.  Many  of 
the  points  specially  dwelt  upon — such  as 
the  legal  position  of  slavery  in  the  South 
under  the  constitution,  as  a  state  and  not 
a  Union  question,  a  matter  of  local  juris- 
diction, with  which  the  national  govern- 
ment had  nothing  to  do — were  presented 


by  Mr.  Beecher  with  such  happy  illustra- 
tions, accurate  logic,  and  fervent  zeal,  as  to 
render  them  more  broadly  intelligible  to 
the  popular  mind  than  ever  the}'  had  been 
made  before,  and  showed  the  orator  to  be 
not  only  a  practiced  and  powerful  speaker, 
but  remarkably  skilled  in  the  management 
of  large  audiences,  so  that,  by  a  happy 
mixture  of  sterling  sense,  good  humor,  and 
downright  earnestness,  combined  with  a 
rare  talent  for  effective  retort,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  carrying  his  entire  audience,  foes 
as  well  as  friends,  along  with  him. 

As  an  instance  of  the  speaker's  last 
named  faculty,  nothing  could  be  more 
apposite  than  his  plump  and  dexterous 
retort  to  an  indignation  cry  from  some  one 
in  the  audience  about  the  feting  of  the 
Russian  naval  officers  at  New  York, — Mr. 
Beecher's  sarcasm  at  the  attentions  paid 
by  the  English  to  Mr.  Mason,  the  southern 
commissioner,  being  in  his  best  vein.  "A 
gentleman  asks  me,"  said  Mr.  Beecher, 
"to  say  a  word  about  the  Russians. 
[Hear,  hear.]  Well,  what  about  the 
Russians  in  New  York  harbor  ?  [Cheers.] 
The  fact  is,  that  that  is  a  little  piece  of 
coquetry.  Don't  you  know  that  when  a 
woman  thinks  her  suitor  is  not  attentive 
enough,  she  picks  out  another,  and  flirts 
with  him  in  her  lover's  face  ?  Well, 
New  York  is  in  the  same  way  flirting  with 
Russia  at  this  moment,  but  she  has  her 
eye  on  Russia,  you  may  depend.  [Hear.] 
When  I  hear  men  say,  this  is  a  piece  of 
national  folly,  which  is  not  becoming  in  a 
people  reputed  wise  and  under  the  solemn 
circumstances  in  which  America  is  now 
placed  ;  when  I  hear  it  said,  that  while 
Russia  is  actually  engaged  in  treading 
down  the  liberties  of  Poland — [Hear, 
hear,] — it  is  not  even  decent  of  a  free 
country  like  the  Northern  States  of  Amer- 
ica to  make  believe  to  flirt  with  her 
—[Hear,  hear,  and  "  That  is  true,"]— 
well,  I  think  so  too,  and  now  you  know 
how  we  felt  when  you  flinrted  with  Mason 
at  your  Lord  Mayors  banquet  I " 

Mr.  Beecher's  justification  of  the  presi- 
dent's proclamation  of  emancipation,  as  at 
once  a  war  necessity  and  a  philanthropic 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


579 


act,  told  with  admirable  effect  upon  his 
hearers.  He  said  :  "  The  great  conflict 
between  the  north  and  the  south  when  we 
began  this  war  was,  which  should  control 
the  government  of  the  territories — slave 
institutions,  or  free  institutions.  That 
was  the  conflict.  It  was  not  emancipation 
or  no  emancipation — the  government  had 
no  business  with  the  question.  The  only 
thing  the  government  could  join  issue  on 
was,  shall  the  national  policy  be  free  or 
slave.  ...  It  was  for  this  the  north 
went  to  war.  It  produced  emancipation  ; 
but  she  went  to  war  to  save  national  insti- 
tutions, to  save  territories,  to  save  those 
laws  which,  if  allowed  to  act  through  a 
series  of  years,  would  infallibly  first  cir- 
cumscribe, then  suffocate,  and  finally  de- 
stroy slavery.  This  is  the  reason  why 


MB.  BEECHEK'S  CHURCH,  BROOKLYN,  NEW  YORK. 


that  truly  honest,  just,  and  conscientious 
magistrate,  Mr.  Lincoln — [the  remainder 
of  the  sentence  was  lost  amid  tumultuous 
cheering,  the  people  rising  and  waving 
their  hats].  How  did  the  matter  pass  to 
a  conflict  with  the  south,  in  place  of  a 
direct  attack  upon  the  institution  of 
slavery  itself  ?  Because,  in  an  ill  advised 
hour,  according  to  the  foreshadowing  of  the 
wisest  men  of  the  south,  they  mixed  the 
national  government  and  national  life  with 
the  institution  of  slavery,  and  obliged  the 
people  and  obliged  the  president,  who  was 
under  oath  to  defend  the  constitution  and 
the  national  government,  to  take  their 
choice  between  the  safety  of  the  life  of  the 
government  itself  and  slavery.  We  were 


content  to  wait  the  issue,  as  one  of  policy, 
but  when  they  threw  drown  the  gauntlet, 
and  said  that  slavery  shall  be  established 
and  extended,  we  could  not  do  any  other- 
wise than  accept  the  challenge.  [Cheers.] 
The  police  have  no  right  to  interfere  with 
you  so  long  as  you  keep  the  law,  but  when 
you  violate  the  law  they  have  a  right. 
And  so  in  constitutional  government,  it 
has  no  right  to  attack  slavery  when  slavery 
is  merely  a  state  institution ;  but  when 
that  state  institution  comes  out  of  its  own 
limits  and  attacks  other  states,  it  becomes 
a  national  enemy.  [Cheers.]  But  it  is 
said  the  president  issued  his  proclamation 
for  political  effect,  and  not  from  humanity. 
[Hear,  hear.]  "Why,  the  act  of  issuing 
the  proclamation  was  political,  but  the 
disposition  to  do  it  was  not.  [Cheers.] 
Mr.  Lincoln  is  an  officer  of  the  state,  and 
in  the  presidential  chair  has  no  more  right 
to  follow  his  private  feelings,  than  any 
one  of  your  judges  has  a  right  to  follow  his 
private  feelings  on  the  bench.  A  judge  is 
bound  to  administer  the  law,  but  when  he 
sees  that  a  rigid  administration  of  the  law 
goes  with  purity  of  justice,  with  human- 
ity, and  with  pity,  he  is  all  the  more  glad, 
because  his  private  feelings  go  with  his 
public  duties." 

But  the  most  striking  and  important 
parts  of  Mr.  Beecher's  address  were  his 
noble  and  earnest  efforts  to  promote,  to  the 
utmost  of  his  ability,  that  supreme  inter- 
national object  of  his  oratorical  efforts — a 
good  understanding  between  England  and 
America,  in  which  all  the  higher  interests 
of  civilization,  freedom,  and  progress,  are 
so  directly  involved.  In  discussing  this 
great  and  vital  question,  he  rose  to  a  pitch 
of  moral  enthusiasm  and  elevation  which 
— stranger,  as  he  was,  in  the  midst  of  his 
country's  reputed  enemies,  and  standing, 
as  he  did,  the  solitary  spokesman  for  that 
country,  in  the  presence  of  a  surging  and 
excited  multitude — presented  a  spectacle 
of  moral  and  forensic  sublimity,  rarely 
witnessed  in  any  country. 

As  the  sequel  of  his  series  of  public 
addresses  in  the  various  cities  of  the  king- 
dom, this  at  London  completed  the  dis- 


680 


CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  AMERICA'S  CAUSE  IN  ENGLAND. 


cussion  of  the  whole  round  of  points  in 
American  affairs  which  the  British  found 
it  most  difficult  to  understand.  That  the 
address  excited  a  prodigious  degree  of 
attention  in  Great  Britain  was  evident  on 
all  sides.  Its  great  effectiveness  con- 
sisted in  its  being  an  American's  present- 
ation of  the  American  question,  and  never 
before  did  an  orator  make  such  triumph- 
ant use  of  his  opportunity.  There  had 
been  symptoms  of  an  attempt  to  pack  the 
meeting — if  possible  to  fill  the  hall  with 
an  opposition  which  should  prevent  a 
hearing  for  the  speaker,  or  at  least  disturb 


him  by  unmannerly  interruption?  as  at 
Liverpool.  To  this  end,  the  walls  of  the 
city  were  placarded  with  enormous  posters, 
designed  to  excite  ill  feeling  against  Mr. 
Beecher,  and  hand-bills  of  a  similar  char- 
acter were  distributed  to  all  who  entered 
the  hall.  But  all  such  effort  to  disparage 
the  speaker  with  his  audience  was  entirely 
overwhelmed,  chiefly  by  the  hearty  enthu- 
siasm with  which  he  was  greeted  by  the 
great  majority,  while  his  good  nature,  fine 
tact,  resoluteness,  and  eat  7  address,  quite 
conquered  the  remaining  malcontents  and 
reduced  them  to  silence. 


LXX. 

COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA,  CAPTAIN  SEMMES, 
AND    THE    KEARSARGE,   CAPTAIN   WINSLOW, 
OFF    CHERBOURG.— 1864. 


The  Alabama  is  Sunk  after  an  Hour's  Engagement,  in  Sight  of  the  Two  Great  Maritime  Powers  of 
Europe. — Semmes  Throws  His  Sword  Away,  Jumps  Overboard,  and  Escapes. — Relative  Equality,  in 
Size  and  Armament,  of  the  Two  Vessels  — The  Previous  Destructive  Career  of  the  Alabama  against 
Northern  Commerce — Causeless  Raid  on  Marine  Property. — Fault  in  the  Law  of  Nations. — British 
Origin  of  the  Alabama — Her  Unmistakable  Character. — Peculiar  Model  and  Equipment — Adapted 
to  Destroy,  Fight,  or  Run. — Adroit  Shipment  of  Stores  and  Guns. — Heady  for  a  Start. — All  Hands 
Mustered  Aft. — Semmes  Reads  Aloud  His  Commission. — Cheers  for  Davis,  Semmes,  etc. — Salute 
Fired  :  Hoisting  the  Flag. — A  Long  Cruise  Terrible  Ravages. — Puts  in,  at  Cherbourg,  France. — 
The  United  States  Ship  Kearsarge  on  His  Track.— Semmes  Boldly  Offers  to  Fight. — Preliminary 
Maneuvers  of  the  Ships  —Seven  Circles  Round  Each  Other. — Semmes's  Rapid  and  Furious  Fire. — 
Superior  Gunnery  of  the  Kearsarge.— Its  Fatal  Effect  on  the  Alabama. — Incidents  of  this  Renowned 
Fight. 


"  Sink,  bum,  and  destroy  everything  which  flies  the  ensign  of  the  so-called  United  States."—  SZMMES'S  COMMISSION  FBOH  JEFFERSON 
DAVIS. 


JUSTICE,  reason,  and  law,  will  eventually  unite,  in 
all  the  states  of  Christendom,  in  exempting  the 
merchant  vessels  of  belligerent  nations,  engaged  ia 
the  transport  of  goods  on  the  high  seas,  not  contra- 
band of  war,from  capture  by  privateers.  Had  this 
wise  and  equitable  principle  prevailed  during  the 
four  years  of  the  American  Civil  Conflict,  the 
commerce  of  the  United  States  would  not  have  been 
swept  from  the  ocean  by  a  few  predatory  cruisers 
like  the  Sumter,  the  Florida,  the  Georgia,  and 
chief  of  all  the  Alabama,  the  latter  commanded  by 
C;iptimi  E;i])li:icl  Scmmcs.  i'onunly  :m  oflirci-  of 

MERCHANT  VESSEL ncl5S5?THE ALABAMA,  the  United  States  navy,  and  a  man  of  acknowledged 
professional  abilities.  No  feature  in  the  devastations  which  accompanied  that  sanguin- 
ary conflict  appears  now,  at  this  remote  view  of  the  period  when  it  occurred,  more 
causeless  and  deplorable  than  this  indiscriminate  destruction  of  merchant  shipping,  the 
hapless  crews  of  which  were  composed  largely  of  natives  of  other  countries,  and  there- 
fore in'no  wise  involved  in  or  responsible  for  the  war. 

On  this  account,  the  devastations  of  the  Alabama— so  famous  for  its  successful  career 
as  "  the  scourge  of  the  seas,"  as  well  as  for  the  grave  complications  between  England 
and  America  to  which  her  career  subsequently  gave  rise,  and  especially  for  the  sum- 


582    COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEARSARGE. 


mary  doom  which  at  last  overtook  her  in 
an  engagement  with  the  United  States 
gun-boat  Kearsarge,  commanded  by  Capt. 
John  A.  Winslow,  U.  S.  N.,  will  here 
form  the  subject  of  a  few  pages.  The 
engagement  which  at  last  sealed  her  doom, 
took  place  Sunday  forenoon,  June  19, 
1864,  off  Cherbourg,  in  the  English  chan- 
nel, in  plain  sight  of  the  two  great  mari- 
time powers  of  Europe. 

Originally  known  as  the  "290,"  this 
vessel  was  built  by  Mr.  Laird,  the  eminent 
ship-builder,  at  Liverpool,  or  Birkenhead, 
and  presented  the  following  peculiarities 
in  her  make,  appointments,  and  manage- 
ment :  Of  about  twelve  hundred  tons  bur- 
den ;  draught  some  fourteen  feet ;  engines 
by  Laird  and  Sons,  Birkenhead,  1862.  She 
was  a  wooden  vessel,  propelled  by  a  screw, 
copper  bottom,  two  hundred  and  ten  feet 
length  on  water-line,  rather  narrow,  painted 
black  outside  and  drab  inside  ;  had  a  round 
stern,  billet  head,  very  little  shear,  flush 
deck  fore  and  aft ;  a  bridge  forward  of  the 
smoke-stack  carried  two  large  black  boats 
on  cranes  amidships  forward  of  the  main 
rigging;  two  black  quarter-boats  between 
the  main  and  rnizzen  masts,  one  small 
black  boat  over  the  stern,  on  cranes  ;  the 
spare  spars,  on  a  gallows  between  the 
bridge  and  foremast,  showed  above  the 
rail. 

In  respect  to  armament,  she  carried  three 
long  thirty-two  pounders  on  a  side,  and 
was  pierced  for  two  more  amidships  ;  had 
a  one  hundred  pound  rifled  pivot  gun  for- 
ward of  the  bridge,  and  a  sixty-eight  pound 
pivot  on  the  main  deck ;  also,  a  pivot  bow- 
gun,  and  a  pivot  stern  chaser.  This  was 
her  armament  when  she  began  her  career, 
her  guns  being  of  the  well-known  Blakely 
pattern,  manufactured  in  Liverpool,  in 
1862. 

She  was  bark-rigged;  had  very  long, 
bright  lower  masts,  and  black  mast-heads ; 
yards  black,  long  yard-arms,  short  poles — 
about  one  to  two  feet — with  small  dog- 
vanes  on  each,  and  a  pendant  to  the  main ; 
studding-sail  booms  on  the  fore  and  main, 
and  wire  rigging.  Carried  on  her  fore- 
mast a  square  foresail ;  large  try-sail  with 


two  reefs,  and  a  bonnet  top-sail  with  two 
reefs,  top-gallant  sail  and  royal.  On  the 
mizzen-mast  a  very  large  spanker  and  a 
short  three-cornered  gaff  top-sail ;  a  fore 
and  foretop-mast  stay-sail  and  jib;  no 
stay-sail  to  the  main  or  mizzen  mast  bent 
or  royal  yards  aloft.  On  the  mainmast  a 
large  try-sail  with  two  reefs  and  a  bonnet. 
No  square  main-sail  bent,  top-sail  two 
reefs,  top-gallant  sail  and  royal. 

Of  her  appearance  and  management  at 
sea,  she  was  rated,  in  respect  to  speed,  at 
thirteen  knots  under  canvas  and  fifteen 
under  steam  ;  could  get  steam  in  twenty 
minutes,  but  seldom  used  it  except  in  a 
chase  or  emergency.  Had  all  national 
flags,  but  usually  set  the  St.  George's 
cross  on  approaching  a  vessel.  Her  com- 
plement of  men  varied  from  one  hundred 
to  considerably  more  than  that  number. 
A  man  was  kept  at  the  mast-head  from 
daylight  until  sunset.  Her  sails  were  of 
hemp  canvas,  made  very  reaching;  the 
top-sails  had  twenty  cloths  on  the  head 
and  thirty  on  the  foot.  The  general 
appearance  of  the  hull  and  sails  was  de- 
cidedly English.  She  was  generally  un- 
der two  top-sails,  fore  and  main  try-sails ; 
fore  and  foretop-mast  stay-sails;  some- 
times top-gallant  sails  and  jib,  but  seldom 
any  sails  on  the  mizzen  except  while  in 
charge  of  a  vessel.  She  was  very  slow  in 
stays;  generally  wore  ship.  Being  built 
expressly  for  a  privateer,  she  was  adapted, 
in  all  respects,  to  destroy,  fight,  or  run, 
according  as  the  character  of  her  opponent 
might  be. 

She  left  Birkenhead,  towards  the  end  of 
July,  ostensibly  on  a  trial  trip,  having  on 
board  a  large  party  of  ladies  and  gentle- 
men. On  getting  out  of  the  Mersey,  this 
party  was  sent  back  in  a  tug-boat,  and  the 
290,  as  had  been  previously  arranged, 
neglected  to  return  to  Birkenhead,  but 
steamed  direct  for  the  island  in  the  Atlan- 
tic where  she  was  to  take  in  her  guns, 
ammunition,  etc. 

On  leaving  England,  the  privateer  had 
a  crew  of  ninety-three  men,  for  the  most 
part  belonging  to  the  English  naval  re- 
serve, all  being  trained  gunners,  and  the 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEARSARGE.         583 


majority  old  men-of-war's  men.  She  was 
temporarily  commanded  by  Captain  Bul- 
lock, who  had  under  him  the  proper  com- 
plement of  commissioned  and  petty  officers. 
Captain  Bullock  having  learned  that  the 
Tuscarora,  a  United  States  war  vessel,  lay 
in  wait  for  him  in  St.  George's  channel, 
took  his  departure  by  what  is  known  as 
the  north  channel,  thus  eluding  pursuit; 
though,  even  had  he  been  intercepted,  the 
Tuscarora  would  have  found  herself  in  a 
dilemma,  as  the  escaped  vessel  had  a  set 
of  English  papers,  and  other  presumptive 
proofs  of  her  neutrality,  in  the  face  of 
which,  interference  might  have  been  diffi- 
cult. At  this  time,  she  carried  no  guns, 
nor  any  warlike  stores,  but  consisted 


merely  of  the  hull,  spars,  and  engines,  with 
sufficient  coal  and  other  requisites  to  ena- 
ble her  to  reach  her  destination,  which  was 
Tarissa,  one  of  the  Azores,  or  Western 
Islands,  belonging  to  Portugal.  This  des- 
tination the  vessel  duly  reached,  after  a 
favorable  run  of  eight  days,  nothing  of  any 
moment  having  occurred  to  break  the  usual 
monotony  of  a  sea  voyage. 

Some  time  before  her  departure  from 
the  Mersey,  a  large  bark  left  the  Thames, 
—clearing  for  Demerara,  West  Indies, — 
to  meet  the  privateer  at  Tarissa,  and  there 
transfer  to  the  latter  vessel  the  guns  and 
stores  destined  for  her,  and  which  formed 
the  cargo  of  the  bark.  Some  reason  re- 
quired to  be  assigned  to  the  Portuguese 
authorities  for  the  290  having  anchored  in 


this  way,  in  their  bay,  and  accordingly  the 
excuse  furnished  them  was  that  her  en- 
gines had  broken  down.  This  plea  was 
accepted  as  valid,  and,  during  the  week 
that  intervened  betwixt  the  arrival  at 
Tarissa  of  the  privateer  and  the  bark,  the 
crew  of  the  former  vessel  were  engaged 
ostensibly  in  repairing  her  engines,  but 
really  in  preparing  her  to  .receive  her  guns, 
etc.  About  the  lapse  of  a  week  from  the 
arrival  of  the  290,  the  bark  above  men- 
tioned sailed  in  and  anchored,  her  captain 
alleging  as  a  reason  to  the  Portuguese  offi- 
cials that  his  vessel  had  sprung  a  leak, 
which  would  require  to  be  repaired  ere  she 
could  resume  her  voyage ;  and  on  this 
understanding,  the  Portuguese  at  once 
placed  her  in  quarantine,  which  in 
the  Azores  lasts  three  days. 

On  the  day  after  the  bark's  arrival, 
Captain  Bullock,  being  anxious  to 
get  his  guns  on  board,  hauled  along- 
side of  the  bark,  and  erected  a  pair 
of  large  shears  to  effect  the  transfer 
of  her  cargo  from  the  bark's  hold  to 
the  privateer's  deck.  This  brought 
off  the  Portuguese  in  a  fury,  that  their 
rules  should  have  been  broken  by  the 
290  having  dared  to  communicate 
with  a  vessel  that  had  still  quarantine 
time  to  run,  and  they  angrily  de- 
manded to  know  the  reason  why 
their  regulations  had  been  infringed. 
They  were  told  that  the  bark  was  in  a 
sinking  state,  and  the  erection  of  the 
shears  was  accounted  for  by  urging  the 
necessity  of  an  immediate  transfer,  tempo- 
rarily, of  her  cargo,  that  the  leak  might 
be  reached  and  stopped ;  and  Captain  Bul- 
lock finally  succeeded  in  bearing  down  all 
opposition  by  feigning  to  get  into  a  pas- 
sion, saying  that  he  was  doing  no  more  for 
the  bark  than  any  Englishman  would  do 
for  another  in  distress.  The  Portuguese 
were  content  to  leave  the  vessel,  and  the 
transhipment  proceeded  without  further 
hindrance  from  those  on  shore. 

About  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day, 
and  when  the  transfer  was  nearly  complete, 
the  British  screw-steamer  Bahama  came 
in,  having  on  board  Captain  Semmes  and 


584.    COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEARSAEGE. 


other  late  officers  of  the  privateer  Sumter 
(cut  short  in  her  career),  besides  the  re- 
mainder of  the  290's  armament,  and  an 
addition  of  twenty  or  more  men  to  her 
crew.  On  the  Bahama's  arrival  and  an- 
chorage, on  a  somewhat  similar  pretext  to 
those  given  by  her  two  predecessors,  the 
Portuguese  apparently  lost  all  patience, 
and  peremptorily  insisted  on  the  instant  de- 
parture of  all  three  vessels.  The  Bahama 
at  once  communicated  with  the  290,  and 
having  handed  over  to  the  latter  everything 
destined  for  her,  got  up  steam  and  left, 
followed  by  the  290,  towing  the  now  empty 
bark. 

All  three  went,  not  to  sea,  as  they  had 
been  ordered  to  do,  but  to  Angra  Bay — a 
bay  in  the  same  island,  and  only  a  few 
leagues  distant  from  Tarissa  Roads.  Here 
they  remained  unmolested  until  noon  of 
the  following  day,  Sunday,  when,  for  the 
second  time,  all  three  vessels  were  ordered 
out  of  Portuguese  waters.  All  the  290's 
guns  being  now  mounted,  and  the  vessel 
otherwise  ready  for  a  cruise,  the  order  was 
obeyed,  and  all  took  their  departure,  the 
bark  as  before  in  tow  of  the  290,  which, 
having  convoyed  her  well  out  to  sea,  cast 
her  off,  and,  with  a  favoring  breeze,  she 
steered  for  Cardiff,  to  bring  out  a  further 
supply  of  coal  for  the  290's  future  use. 

The  privateer  and  the  Bahama  now 
steamed  around  the  island,  and  Captain 
Semmes,  coming  out  of  his  cabin,  ordered 
his  first  lieutenant  to  muster  the  crew  aft. 
This  having  been  done,  and  all  the  officers 
assembled  on  the  poop  in  their  full  uni- 
form, namely,  the  confederate  gray  frock- 
coat  and  trousers,  Captain  Semmes  en- 
joined silence,  and  read  his  commission  as 
post-captain  in  the  confederate  navy.  It 
was  a  document  duly  attested  at  Rich- 
mond, and  bore  the  signature  of  "Jeff 
Davis,  President  Confederate  States  of 
America."  He  then  opened  and  read  his 
sealed  orders  from  Mr.  Davis,  directing 
him  to  assume  command  of  the  confederate 
sloop-of-war  Alabama,  hitherto  known  as 
the  290,  in  which,  having  been  duly  com- 
missioned, he  was  to  hoist  the  confederate 
ensign  and  pennant,  and  "  sink,  burn,  and 


destroy  everything  which  flew  the  ensign 
of  the  so-called  United  States  of  America." 

Captain  Semmes  then  ordered  the  first 
lieutenant  to  fire  a  gun  and  run  up  the 
confederate  flag  and  pennant.  The  gun 
was  fired  by  the  second  lieutenant,  and, 
ere  its  smoke  had  cleared  away,  the  stars 
and  bars  of  the  southern  confederacy  were 
floating  on  the  breeze,  and  the  ceremony 
was  complete,  —  Semmes  declaring  the 
vessel,  henceforth  to  be  known  as  the  Ala- 
bama, to  have  been  duly  commissioned. 

The  next  step  was  formally  to  engage 
the  crew  to  serve  and  fight  under  the 
southern  flag,  which  having  been  done,  the 
men  were  addressed  by  their  captain  in  a 
stirring  speech,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
said  there  were  only  four  vessels  in  the 
United  States  navy  that  were  more  than  a 
match  for  the  Alabama ;  but,  he  added,  in 
an  English-built  heart  of  oak  as  the  Ala- 
bama was,  and  surrounded  as  he  then  saw 
himself  by  British  hearts  of  oak,  he 
wouldn't  strike  his  newly-hoisted  flag  for 
anyone  of  the  four.  This  elicited  a  hearty 
burst  of  applause  for  Davis,  the  confeder- 
acy, and  Sernmes,  and,  when  it  had  sub- 
sided, the  captain  said  that  the  Bahama 
was  on  the  point  of  leaving  for  England, 
and  intimated  that  if  any  of  his  crew 
repented  of  the  step  they  had  taken,  they 
were  free  to  return  in  her.  This  alterna- 
tive none  would  accept,  and  Captain  Bul- 
lock and  a  few  of  the  other  officers  who 
had  taken  the  290  from  England  to  the 
Azores  finding  their  occupation  gone, 
through  the  arrival  of  those  who  had  held 
similar  appointments  in  the  Sumter,  hav- 
ing gone  on  board  the  Bahama,  that  vessel 
and  the  Alabama,  amid  hearty  cheering 
from  the  crews  of  both,  parted  company, 
the  former  pursuing  her  course  back  to 
England,  and  the  latter  making  chase  for 
an  American  whaler,  which  she  soon  cap- 
tured and  burned. 

This  was  the  first  prize  taken  by 
Semmes,  in  that  long  and  successful  career 
in  the  South  Atlantic  and  Indian  oceans, 
during  which  he  inflicted  almost  untold 
damage  upon  the  merchant  marine  service 
of  the  United  States,  and  successfully 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEARSARGE. 


585 


eluding  the  most  diligent  pursuit  and  the 
best-laid  plans  of  capture. 

Nor  is  it  possible  to  conjecture  how 
much  longer  this  prosperous  career  of  the 
Alabama  would  have  continued,  but  for  the 
fortuitous  circumstance  which  suddenly 
arose,  and  which  as  suddenly  terminated 
in  her  comnlete  destruction. 

Making  good  her  escape  from  the  United 
States  naval  vessels  at  the  Capo  of  Good 
Hope  and  Straits  of  Sunda,  and  after  com- 
mitting sundry  devastations,  the  Alabama 
returned  westward,  in  June,  1864,  and 
took  refuge  under  the  guns  of  Fort  Du 
Hornet,  off  Cherbourg,  a  French  port.  At 
the  same  time,  the  United  States  gun-boat 
Kearsarge,  Captain  Wiuslow,  was  lying  at 


Flushing,  Holland,  when  a  telegram  came 
from  Mr.  Dayton,  the  American  ambassa- 
dor at  Paris,  stating  that  the  Alabama  was 
at  Cherbourg.  The  Kearsarge  immedi- 
ately put  to  sea,  and  arrived  at  Cherbourg 
in  quick  time,  taking  the  Alabama  quite 
by  surprise  by  so  sudden  an  appearance  on 
her  track.  Through  the  consular  agent,  a 
sort  of  challenge  was  received  by  Captain 
Winslow  from  Captain  Semmes,  the  latter 
stating  that  he  would  like  to  measure  the 
strength  of  his  vessel  with  that  of  the 
Kearsarge, —  that  if  the  latter  remained 
off  the  port  he  would  come  out  and  fight 
her, — and  that  he  would  not  detain  the 
vessel  long. 

After    cruising    off    the   port  for  five 


days,  until  Sunday,  June  19th,  at  about 
half-past  ten  o'clock,  in  the  forenoon,  Cap- 
tain Wiuslow  descried  the  starry  ensign 
of  the  Alabama  floating  in  the  breeze,  as 
she  carne  boldly  out  of  the  western  en- 
trance, accompanied  by  the  French  iron^ 
clad  steamer  Couronne  and  the  English 
yacht  Deerhound,  the  latter  having  on 
board  its  owner,  Mr.  Lancaster — a  member 
of  the  Royal  Yacht  Club — together  with 
his  wife  and  family.  The  Couronne  re- 
tired into  port,  after  seeing  the  combatants 
outside  of  French  waters.  Captain  Wins- 
low  had  previously  had  an  interview  with 
the  admiral  of  Cherbourg,  assuring  him 
that,  in  the  event  of  an  action  occurring 
with  the  Alabama,  the  position  of  the 
vessels  should  be  so  far  oft'  shore  that  no 
question  would  be  advanced  about  the  line 
of  jurisdiction.  When  the  Alabama  was 
first  descried,  the  Kearsargo  was  about 
three  miles  from  the  entrance  of  the  har- 
bor, and,  to  make  certain  that  none  of  the 
maneuvers  of  battle  took  place  within  the 
French  waters,  as  well  as  to  draw  the  Ala- 
bama so  far  off  that,  if  disabled,  she  could 
not  flee  in  to  the  shore  for  protection  from 
her  French  allies  or  sympathizers,  the 
Kearsarge  stood  to  seaward  until  she  had 
attained  the  distance  of  about  seven  miles 
from  the  shore. 

At  ten  minutes  before  eleven,  the  Kear- 
sargo came  quick  about  and  approached 
the  Alabama.  When  within  about  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile,  the  Alabama  opened 
her  guns  with  her  starboard  broadside. 
The  Kearsarge  made  no  reply  for  some 
minutes,  but  ranged  up  nearer,  and  then 
opened  her  starboard  battery,  fighting  six 
guns,  and  leaving  only  one  thirty-two 
pounder  idle.  The  Alabama  fought  seven 
guns,  working  them  with  the  greatest 
rapidity,  sending  shot  and  shell  in  a  con- 
stant stream  over  her  adversary.  Both 
vessels  used  their  starboard  batteries,  the 
two  being  maneuvered  in  a  circle  about 
each  other  at  a  distance  of  from  five  hun- 
dred to  one  thousand  yards.  Seven  com- 
plete circles  were  made  during  the  action, 
which  lasted  a  little  over  one  hour.  At 
the  last  of  the  action,  when  the  Alabama 


586        COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEARSARGE. 


would  have  made  off,  she  was  near  five 
miles  from  the  shore ;  and,  had  the  action 
continued  from  the  first  in  parallel  lines, 
with  her  head  in  shore,  the  line  of  juris- 
diction would,  no  doubt,  have  been  reached. 

From  the  first,  the  firing  of  the  Ala- 
bama was  rapid  and  wild;  toward  the 
close  of  the  action,  the  firing  became  bet- 
ter. The  Kearsarge  gunners,  who  had 
been  cautioned  against  firing  rapidly,  with- 
out direct  aim,  were  much  more  deliberate ; 
and  the  instructions  given  to  point  the 
heavy  guns  below  rather  than  above  the 
water-line,  and  clear  the  deck  with  lighter 
ones,  was  fully  observed. 

Captain  Winslow  had  endeavored,  with 
a  port  helm,  to  close  in  with  the  Alabama ; 
but  it  was  not  until  just  before  the  close 
of  the  action,  that  he  was  in  position  to 
use  grape.  This  was  avoided,  however,  by 
the  Alabama's  surrender.  The  effect  of 
the  training  of  the  Kearsarge's  men  was 
evident;  nearly  every  shot  from  their 
guns  told  fearfully  on  the  Alabama,  and  on 
the  seventh  rotation  in  the  circular  track, 
she  winded,  setting  fore-trysail  and  two 
jibs,  with  head  in  shore.  Her  speed  was 
now  retarded,  and  by  winding  her  port 
broadside  was  presented  to  the  Kearsarge, 
with  only  two  guns  bearing,  not  having 
been  able  to  shift  over  but  one.  Captain 
Winslow  now  saw  that  she  was  at  his 
mercy,  and  a  few  more  guns  brought  down 
her  flag,  though  it  was  difficult  to  ascer- 
tain whether  it  had  been  hauled  down  6r 
shot  away ;  but  a  white  flag  having  been 
displayed  over  the  stern,  the  fire  of  the 
Kearsarge  was  reserved. 

Two  minutes  had  not  more  than  elapsed 
before  the  Alabama  again  opened  fire  on 
the  Kearsarge,  with  the  two  guns  on  the 
port  side.  This  drew  Captain  Winslow's 
fire  again,  and  the  Kearsarge  was  immedi- 
ately steamed  ahead  and  laid  across  her 
bows  for  raking.  The  white  flag  was  still 
flying,  and  the  Kearsarge's  fire  was  again 
reserved.  Shortly  after  this,  her  boats 
were  to  be  seen  lowering,  and  an  officer  in 
one  of  them  came  alongside  and  stated  that 
the  ship  had  surrendered,  and  was  fast 
sinking.  In  twenty  minutes  from  this 


time  the  Alabama  went  down,  her  main- 
mast, which  had  been  shot,  breaking  near 
the  head  as  she  sank,  and  her  bow  rising 
high  out  of  the  water,  as  her  stern  rapidly 
settled. 

At  precisely  twenty-four  minutes  past 
twelve,  twenty  minutes  after  her  furnace 
fires  went  out,  the  Alabama  being  on  the 
point  of  making  her  final  plunge,  the  word 
went  forth  for  every  man  to  take  care  of 
himself,  which  they  did  by  jumping  over- 
board, Semmes  throwing  his  sword  into  the 
ocean  and  then  taking  a  swim  himself, 
making  for  the  Deerhound,  which  rescued 
him  and  thirteen  other  officers.  None  of 
the  men  who  had  been  killed  were  left  to 
sink;  of  the  twenty-one  wounded,  some 
were  in  the  quarter-boats  with  the  boys, 
and  others  on  board  the  Kearsarge ;  the 
rest  of  the  crew  were  all  afloat,  and  some 
of  them  drowning.  Every  available  boat 
of  both  vessels  was  now  employed  in  their 
rescue  ;  and  besides  these,  the  Deerhound 
and  a  French  pilot-boat  shared  in  this 
humane  service.  In  this  way,  one  hun- 
dred and  nineteen  were  saved,  the  greater 
number  by  the  boats  of  the  Keursarge. 
Semmes's  three  waist-boats  had  been  torn 
to  shreds  in  the  fight,  and  he  had  left  only 
two  quarter-boats ;  these  were  filled  with 
th3  wounded  and  with  boys  unable  to 
swim. 

The  chances  of  this  conflict,  estimated 
from  the  relative  strength  and  speed  of 
the  two  vessels,  were  nearly  equally  bal- 
anced. Thus,  the  length  over  all,  of  the 
Alabama,  was  two  hundred  and  twenty 
feet,  and  of  the  Kearsarge,  two  hundred 
and  fourteen ;  the  Alabama's  lengtb  on 
water-line,  two  hundred  and  ten  feet,  and 
of  the  Kearsarge,  one  hundred  and  ninety- 
eight;  the  Alabama's  beam  was  thirty-two 
feet,  being  one  less  than  the  Kearsarge's ; 
depth  of  the  Alabama,  seventeen  feet,  or 
one  more  than  the  Kearsarge;  the  two 
engines  of  the  Alabama  were  of  three  hun- 
dred horse-power  each,  while  the  horse- 
power of  the  Kearsarge  was  four  hundred. 
Tonnage  of  the  Alabama,  eleven  hundred 
and  fifty ;  of  the  Kearsarge,  one  thousand 
and  thirty. 


COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA  AND  KEAKSARGE. 


The  Complete  armament  of  the  Alabama 
consisted  of  one  seven-inch  Blakely  rifle, 
one  eight-Inch  smooth  bore  sixty-eight 
pounder,  and  six  thirty-two  pounders. 
The  armament  of  the  Kearsarge  consisted 
of  two  eleven-inch  smooth  bore  guns,  one 
thirty-pounder  rifle,  and  four  thirty^two 
pounders.  In  the  combat,  the  Kearsarge 
used  but  five  guns ;  the  Alabama,  seven. 
The  Kearsarge  had  one  hundred  and  sixty- 


from  the  Alabama  struck  these  chains,  and 
fell  harmlessly  into  the  water.  The  Ala- 
bama, it  was  estimated,  discharged  three 
hundred  and  seventy  or  more  shot  and 
shell,  but  inflicted  no  serious  damage  on 
the  Kearsarge  ;  some  thirteen  or  fourteen 
took  effect  in  and  about  the  hull,  and  six- 
teen or  seventeen  about  the  masts  and 
rigging.  The  Kearsarge  fired  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy-three  projectiles,  oi 


NAVAL  CONTEST  BETWEEN  THE  KEARSARGE  AND  ALABAMA. 


two  men,  including  officers ;  the  Alabama, 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty. 

For  five  days  the  Alabama  had  been  in 
preparation.  She  had  taken  in  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  tons  of  coal,  which  brought 
her  down  in  the  water.  The  Kearsarge 
had  only  one  hundred  and  twenty  tons  in; 
but,  as  an  offset  to  this,  her  sheet-chains 
were  stowed  outside,  stopped  up  and  down, 
as  an  additional  preventive  and  protection 
to  her  more  empty  bunkers.  Two  shots 


which  one  alone  killed  and  wounded  eight- 
een of  the  Alabama's  men,  and  disabled 
one  of  her  guns. 

On  board  the  Kearsarge,  three  men 
were  badly  wounded,  one  of  them — Wil- 
liam Gowin,  of  Michigan  —  mortally. 
Though  struck  quite  early  in  the  action, 
by  a  fragment  of  a  shell,  which  badly  shat- 
tered his  leg,  near  the  knee-pan,  Gowin 
refused  assistance,  concealed  the  extent  of 
his  injury,  and  dragged  himself  from  the 


688        COMBAT  BETWEEN  THE  ALABAMA1  AND  KEARSARGE. 


after  pivot  gun  to  the  fore-hatch,  unwilling 
to  take  any  one  from  his  station.  During 
the  progress  of  the  action,  he  comforted 
his  suffering  comrades  by  assuring  them 
that  "  Victory  is  ours  !  "  Whenever  the 
guns'  crews  cheered  at  the  successful  effect 
of  their  shot,  Gowin  waved  his  hat  over 
his  head  and  joined  in  the  shout.  When 
brought  -.  t  length  to  the  surgeon,  he  ap- 
peared with  a  smile  on  his  face,  though 
suffering  acutely  from  his  injury.  He 
said,  "  It  is  all  right,  and  I  am  satisfied, 
for  we  are  whipping  the  Alabama.  I  wil- 
lingly will  lose  my  leg  or  life,  if  it  is  nec- 
essary." In  the  hospital,  he  was  calmly 
resigned  to  his  fate,  repeating  again  and 
again  his  willingness  to  die,  since  his  ship 
had  won  a  glorious  victory. 

The  following  conversation  with  one  of 
the  crew  of  the  Alabama,  as  given  in  the 
London  "Cornhill  Magazine,"  furnishes 
some  interesting  memorabilia  concerning 
this  remarkable  encounter : 

"But  I  thought  you  had  been  in  the 
oo"federate  navy." 

"I  was,"  said  Aleck.  "I  was  with 
Semmes  everywhere  he  went.  I  was  in 
the  naval  brigade  and  blockade-running, 
and  on  the  Alabama  all  the  while  he  com- 
manded her." 

"  But  not  when  she  sank,  I  suppose." 

"  Well,  I  was,  and  was  picked  up  with 
him  by  the  Deerhound." 

"It  was  a  pretty  sharp  fight,  wasn't 
it?" 

"  It  was  that ! " 

"  I  suppose  it  was  the  eleven-inch  shells 
that  did  her  business  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;    we  never   had   any  chance. 


We  had  no  gunners  to  compare  with  the 
Kearsarge's.  Our  gunners  fired  by  rou- 
tine, and  when  they  had  the  gun  loaded, 
fired  it  off  blind.  They  never  changed  the 
elevation  of  their  guns  all  through  the 
fight,  and  the  Kearsarge  was  working  up 
to. us  all  the  while,  taking  advantage  of 
every  time  she  was  hid  by  smoke  to  work 
a  little  nearer,  and  then  her  gunners  took 
aim  for  every  shot." 

"  Then  it  isn't  true  that  the  Alabama 
tried  to  board  the  Kearsarge  ?  " 

"No,  sir!  She  did  her  best  to  get 
away  from  her  from  the  time  the  fight 
commenced.  We  knew  well  that  if  we 
got  in  range  of  her  Dahlgren  howitzers 
she  would  sink  us  in  ten  minutes." 

'•  But  don't  you  believe  that  Semmes 
supposed  he  would  whip  the  Kearsarge 
when  he  went  out  to  fight  her  ?  " 

"No;  he  was  bullied  into  it,  and  took 
good  care  to  leave  all  his  valuables  on 
shore,  and  had  a  life  preserver  on  through 
the  fight.  I  saw  him  put  it  on,  and  I 
thought  if  it  was  wise  in  him  it  wouldn't 
be  foolish  in  me,  and  I  put  on  one  too. 
When  Semmes  saw  that  the  ship  was 
going  down,  he  told  us  all  to  swirn  who 
could,  and  was  one  of  the  first  to  jump 
into  the  water,  and  we  all  made  for  the 
Deerhound.  I  was  a  long  way  ahead  of 
Semmes,  and,  when  I  came  up  to  the 
Deerhound's  boat,  they  asked  me  if  I  was 
Semmes,  before  they  would  take  me  in.  I 
said  I  wasn't,  and  then  they  asked  me 
what  I  was  on  the  Alabama.  Said  I,  No 
matter  what  I  was  on  the  Alabama,  I  shall 
be  a  dead  man  soon  if  you  don't  take  me 
in." 


LXXI. 


ADMIRAL    FARRAGTJT'S   ACHIEVEMENTS   AT    NEW   OR- 
LEANS IN  1862,  AND  AT  MOBILE  BAT  IN  1864  ;  AND 
ADMIRAL    PORTER'S    CROWNING-    VICTORY 
IN    1865,  AT    FORT    FISHER.— 1864. 


His  Astonishing  Feat  of  Running  Past  the  Confederate  Batteries — Fierce  and  Sanguinary  Contest 
between  the  Admiral's  Flagship,  the  Hartford,  and  Admiral  Buchanan's  Monster  Ram,  the  Ten- 
nessee.— The  Latter  Proves  Herself,  for  a  Time,  a  Match  for  the  Whole  Union  Fleet — Farragut'a 
Overwhelming  Victory. — Farragut  Pressed  to  Join  the  South. — His  Unswerving  Fidelity  to  the  Old 
Flag. — High  Trust  Committed  to  Him. — Sailing  of  His  Great  Fleet. — Bold  and  Successful  Plan  of 
Battle. — Admiral  Porter's  Splendid  Services. — Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip  Wrecked. — New  Orleans 
Again  Under  the  United  States  Flag.— Another  Theater  of  Naval  Operations.— Forts,  Rams,  Iron- 
Clade,  etc.,  to  Fight— Powerful  Build  of  the  Tennessee. — Makes  for  Her  Antagonist  at  Full  Speed- 
Intended  Running  Down  of  the  Hartford. — Farragut's  Masterly  Maneuvers. — Unexpected  Feature  in 
His  Tactics. — Deadly  Contact  of  the  Various  Craft — Tremendous  Cannonade. — The  "  Glory  "  and 
Horrors  of  War.— Stubborn  Bravery  of  the  Great  Ram.— Crippled  at  Last:  The  White  Flag. — The 
Stars  and  Stripes  on  Her  Staff — Buchanan  Yields  His  Sword. 


*  Admiral  for  admiral— flagship  for  flagship— I'll  fight  him  1 "— FAEBAOUT,  OK  THE  APPROACH  or  THE  TKKBESSKE. 


EAES  before  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war  between  the  national  govern- 
_^f^=    ment  and  the  Southern  states,  in  the  spring  of  1861,  the  name  of  David  G. 
Farragut  was  one  of  the  most  illustrious  on  the  roll  of  the  United  States 

Navy,  for  those  sterling  qualities,  both  as  a 
man  and  officer,  which  command  univers&l 
respect.  Having  in  mind,  therefore,  his  South- 
ern birth,  and  his  presumed  sympathy  with 
the  disunion  movement  for  a  Southern  confed- 
eracy, he  was  invited  by  those  representing  the 
latter  cause  to  join  his  fortune  to  theirs.  He 
promptly  declined.  The  effort  to  change  hia 
purpose  was  repeated.  He  was  urged  by  every 
consideration  that  it  was  supposed  could  influ- 
ence his  action,  to  side  with  his  native  south ; 
he  still  refused.  The  men  who  made  these 
proposals  well  knew  Farragut.  They  knew 
him  better  than  his  own  government  then  did, 
— knew  the  lion-like  qualities  that  slumbered 
beneath  his  modest  and  habitually  retiring 
demeanor,  and  the  achievements  of  which  he 
was  capable  when  the  latent  powers  of  the 
man  should  be  roused  to  active  energy.  As  a 
last  effort  to  win  him  over,  they  offered  him 
any  position  which  he  should  be  pleased  to 
FABBAOUT-S  riAcniiiiF  "HAKxrottD."  name.  This  mercenary  assault  upon  his  ley 


590 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


alty  was  more  than  his  nature  could  endure, 
and,  with  a  sudden  and  sailor-like  burst  of 
indignation,  he  replied,  as  he  pointed  to 
the  emblem  of  the  republic,  which  floated 
near  him, — 

"Gentlemen,  your  efforts  are  useless. 
I  tell  you  I  would  see  every  man  of  you 
— — •,  before  I  would  raise  my  arm  against 
that  flag  ! " 

That  flag  he  nobly  upheld  in  more  than 
one  fierce  conflict,  during  the  ensuing 
four  years,  conferring  the  brightest  and 
widest  luster  on  his  country's  renown, 
and  sharing,  with  his  eminent  colleagues, 
Porter,  Foote,  Dupont,  Gillmore,  Golds- 
borough,  Bailey,  Boggs,  Worden,  Wins- 
low,  and  others,  the  honors  of  a  grateful 
country. 

Before  presenting  the  narrative  of  his 
superb  achievements  in  Mobile  harbor,  in 
1864,  some  account  of  the  brilliant  and 
terrible  operations  on  the  Mississippi,  in 
the  spring  of  1862,  will  be  interesting. 
Knowing  the  qualifications  of  Farragut, 
the  government  put  him  at  the  head  of 
the  great  naval  expedition  which,  in  con- 
junction with  General  Butler's  army,  was 
to  undertake  the  capture  of  New  Orleans. 
This  task  he  prosecuted  in  a  manner 
which  fully  justified  the  confidence  reposed 
in  his  indomitable  heroism  and  splendid 
executive  abilities,  and  the  prize  obtained 
was  one  of  the  richest  and  most  important 
ever  presented  by  a  victorious  chieftain  to 
a  grateful  and  admiring  country. 

It  was  on  the  17th  of  April,  1862,  that 
the  mortar  fleet  of  Commodore  Porter — 
one  of  the  bravest  captains  that  ever  trod 
a  man-of-war's  deck — began  the  bombard- 
ment of  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip, 
and,  on  the  24th,  Commodore  Farragut, 
with  his  entire  fleet,  ran  past  the  forts, 
encountering  a  fire  almost  unparalleled  in 
severity,  a  fleet  of  gun-boats,  including 
several  iron-clads,  fire-rafts,  obstructions 
and  torpedoes  innumerable.  The  mortar 
fleet  rained  down  shells  on  Fort  Jackson, 
to  try  and  keep  the  men  from  the  guns, 
whilst  the  steamers  of  the  mortar  fleet 
poured  in  shrapnel  upon  the  water-battery 
commanding  the  approach,  at  a  short  dis- 


tance, keeping  them  comparatively  quiet. 
The  squadron  was  formed  in  three  lines  to 
pass  the  forts,  the  divisions  being  led, 
respectively,  by  Farragut,  Bailey,  and 
Bell. 

Perfect  success  attended  the  flag-officer's 
boldly  executed  plan  of  battle.  Fort  Jack- 
son became  a  perfect  wreck  ;  everything  in 
the  shape  of  a  building  in  and  about  it 
was  burned  up  by  the  mortar  shells,  and 
over  eighteen  hundred  shells  fell  in  the 
work  proper,  to  say  nothing  of  those  which 
burst  over  and  went  around.  It  was  an 
exciting  scene  when,  on  the  morning  of 
the  24th,  that  signal  "  to  advance  "  waa 
thrown  out  from  the  flag-ship.  The  Ca- 
yuga  led  on  the  column.  They  were  dis- 
covered at  the  boom,  and  a  little  beyond 
both  forts  opened  fire.  When  close  up 
with  St.  Philip,  Bailey  opened  with  grape 
and  canister,  still  steering  on  ;  and  after 
passing  this  line  of  fire,  he  encountered 
the  "Montgomery  flotilla,"  consisting  of 
eighteen  gun-boats,  including  the  ram  Ma- 
nassas,  and  iron-battery  Louisiana.  This 
was  a  moment  of  anxietj^,  as  no  supporting 
ship  was  in  sight.  By  skillful  steering, 
however,  their  attempts  to  butt  and  board 
were  avoidod,  and  after  forcing  three  of 
them  to  surrender,  aid  came  very  oppor- 
tunely from  the  Varuna,  Captain  Boggs, 
and  the  Oneitla,  Captain  Lee. 

The  Cayuga  received  most  of  the  first 
fire,  but  was  «ot  severely  damaged.  On 
her  falling  baAk,  the  flag-ship  Hartford 
took  her  place.  The  latter  had  only  two 
guns — which  were  placed  on  the  top-gal- 
lant forecastle — *hat  could  bear  on  the 
enemy  until  within  half  a  mile.  The 
Hartford  now  sheem.1  off,  and  gave  forth 
a  most  terrible  fire.  The  Pensacola  ran 
up  after  a  while,  and  dealt  with  the  star- 
board battery,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
Brooklyn  ranged  up  and  did  gallant 
service.  The  passing  of  Forts  Jackson 
and  St.  Philip,  Farragut  describes  as  one 
of  the  most  awful  sights  and  events  he 
ever  witnessed.  The  smoke  was  so  dense 
that  it  was  only  now  and  then  anything 
could  be  seen  but  the  flash  of  the  cannon 
and  the  fire-ships  or  rafts,  one  of  which 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


591 


was  pushed  down  upon  the  Hartford  by 
the  ram  Manassas.  In  his  effort  to  avoid 
this,  Farragut  ran  his  ship  on  shore,  and 
then  the  fire-raft  was  pushed  alongside, — 
the  ship  in  a  moment  being  one  blaze  all 
along  the  port  side,  half-way  up  to  the 
main  and  mizzen  tops.  But,  by  adroit 
management,  the  flames  were  extinguished, 
and  the  Hartford  backed  off  and  got  clear 
of  the  raft.  But  all  this  time  she  was 
pouring  shells  into  the  forts,  and  they  into 
her.  At  length  the  fire  slackened,  the 


then  sent  on  beard  of  her,  but  she  was 
riddled  and  deserted,  and  after  a  while  she 
drifted  down  the  stream,  full  of  water, — 
the  last  of  eleven  that  the  union  army  had 
destroyed.  The  larger  ram,  at  Fort  Jack- 
son, was  subsequently  blown  up.  On  the 
28th,  General  Butler  landed  above  Fort 
St.  Philip,  under  the  guns  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  the  Kineo. 

So  desperate  was  the  proposed  attempt 
to  run  past  Forts  Jackson  and  St.  Philip 
regarded  at  the  time,  that  some  French 


f  OOTE 


smoke  cleared  off,  and  the  forts  had  been 
passed.  Here  and  there  was  a  confeder- 
ate gun-boat  on  fire,  trying  to  make  their 
escape,  but  they  were  fired  into  and  rid- 
dled and  soon  became  wrecks.  The  Mis- 
sissippi and  the  Manassas  made  a  set  at 
each  other  at  full  speed,  and  when  they 
were  within  thirty  or  forty  yards,  the  ram 
dodged  the  Mississippi  and  ran  on  shore, 
when  the  latter  poured  her  broadside  into 
her,  knocked  away  her  smoke-stack,  and 


and  English  officers,  who  had  been  to  New 
Orleans  and  inspected  the  fortifications, 
pronounced  such  an  undertaking  abso- 
lutely insane.  Nor  were  they  alone  in 
their  military  opinion  of  its  rashness  and 
impossibility.  It  is  related  that  when 
that  brave  veteran,  Commodore  Goldsbor- 
ough,  first  heard  the  news  of  Farragut's 
exploit, — communicated  to  him  by  a  news- 
paper correspondent  who  boarded  the 
Minnesota  at  Fortress  Monroe,  while  OP 


692 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


his  way  north  with  dispatches,  —  some- 
thing like  the  following  conversation  took 
place  : 

"Commodore,"  said  the  correspondent, 
"  I  have  the  pleasure  o£  informing  you 
that  Commodore  Farragut  has  run  past 
Forts  Philip  and  Jackson  with  his  fleet, 
and  taken  New  Orleans." 

"  Run  past  the  batteries  ?  "  exclaimed 
Commodore  Goldsborough. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  It's  not  true,  sir  —  it's  a  he  !  It 
couldn't  be  done." 

A  blunt  and  sailor-like  demand  for  the 
unconditional  surrender  of  the  city  was 
made  upon  Mayor  Monroe, — a  demand 
which,  of  course,  he  was  in  no  condition 
to  resist ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
venerable  national  flag  was  floating  over 
the  city  hall,  the  mint,  and  the  custom- 
house, and,  at  the  same  time,  all  flags 
emblematic  of  any  other  sovereignty  than 
that  of  the  United  States  were  instantly 
removed,  and  never  reappeared. 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  August, 
1864,  however,  that  the  country  was  elec- 
trified by  that  signal  achievement  by  Far- 
ragut, in  Mobile  Bay,  which  placed  him  in 
the  very  foremost  rank  among  the  naval 
heroes  of  modern  times.  Guarded  at  its 
entrance  by  two  imposing  fortifications,  of 
immense  strength,  the  bay  also  floated  at 
this  time  a  formidable  naval  fleet,  under  the 
command  of  Admiral  Buchanan,  one  of 
the  ablest  officers  in  the  confederate  serv- 
ice. For  a  long  time,  Farragut  watched 
for  his  opportunity,  and  it  came  at  last, 
under  circumstances  the  most  favorable, 
as  the  result  proved,  for  union  success. 

From  the  official  reports,  and  the  vari- 
ous accounts  furnished  by  the  reporters 
for  the  press,  the  following  sketch  of  this 
celebrated  achievement  is  prepared.  For 
some  months,  Farragut — now  holding  the 
rank  of  Rear-Admiral — had  commanded  the 
United  States  blockading  fleet  off  Mobile, 
and  it  was  with  some  impatience  that  he 
awaited  the  means  necessary  to  justify 
him  in  moving  up  and  attacking  the 
defenses  of  the  city.  Knowing  the  disad- 
vantage of  attacking  iron-cased  vessels 


with  wooden  ones,  and  that,  too,  in  the 
face  and  under  the  guns  of  heavy  fortresses, 
without  a  co-operating  land  force,  he  de- 
ferred the  movement  until  those  essential 
helps  were  provided,  though  holding  him- 
self in  readiness  to  meet,  at  any  time,  the 
fleet  of  Buchanan,  should  it  venture  out. 

In  the  summer,  Farragut  found  himself 
in  command  of  four  iron-clads  and  four- 
teen wooden  ships-of-war,  aided  by  a  small 
land  force  under  Gen.  Gordon  Granger. 
On  the  morning  of  August  5th,  therefore, 
all  things  being  ready,  he  went  up  the 
bay,  passing  between  Forts  Morgan  and 
Gaines,  and  encountering  the  formidable 
confederate  ram  Tennessee,  and  also  the 
gun-boats  of  the  enemy,  Selma,  Morgan, 
and  Gaines.  The  attacking  fleet  was 
under  way  by  quarter  before  six  in  the 
morning,  in  the  following  order :  The 
Brooklyn,  with  the  Octorara  on  her  port 
side ;  Hartford,  with  the  Metacomet ; 
Richmond,  with  the  Port  Royal ;  Lacka- 
wanna,  with  the  Seminole  ;  Monongahela, 
with  theTecumseh  ;  Ossipee,  with  the  Itas- 
co  ;  and  the  Oneida,  with  the  Galena.  On 
the  starboard  of  the  fleet  was  the  proper 
position  of  the  monitors  or  iron-clads. 
The  wind  was  light  from  the  south-west, 
and  the  sky  cloudy,  with  very  little  sun. 
Fort  Morgan  opened  upon  them  at  ten 
minutes  past  seven,  and  soon  after  this 
the  action  became  lively.  As  they  steamed 
up  the  main  ship  channel,  there  was  some 
difficulty  ahead,  and  the  Hartford  passed 
on  ahead  of  the  Brooklyn.  At  twenty  min- 
utes before  eight,  the  Tecumseh  was  struck 
by  a  torpedo  and  sunk,  going  down  very 
rapidly,  and  carrying  down  with  her  all 
the  officers  and  crew,  with  the  exception 
of  the  pilot  and  eight  or  ten  men,  who 
were  saved  by  a  boat r  jnt  from  the  Meta- 
comet. 

The  Hartford  had  passed  the  forts  before 
eight  o'clock,  and,  finding  himself  raked 
by  the  confederate  gun-boats,  Farragut 
ordered  the  Metacomet  to  cast  off  and  go 
in  pursuit  of  them,  one  of  which,  the 
Selma,  she  succeeded  in  capturing.  All 
the  vessels  had  passed  the  forts  by  half- 
past  eight,  but  the  confederate  ram 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


593 


Tennessee  was  still  apparently  uninjured, 
in  the  rear  of  the  union  vessels.  A  signal 
•was  at  once  made  to  all  the  fleet  to  turn 
again  and  attack  the  ram,  not  only  with 
guns,  but  to  run  her  down  at  full  speed. 
The  Monongahela  was  the  first  that  struck 
her,  but  did  not  succeed  in  disabling  her. 
The  Lackawanna  also  struck  her,  but  inef- 
fectually. The  flag-ship  gave  her  a  severe 
shock  with  her  bow,  and  as  she  passed 
poured  into  her  a  whole  port  broadside  of 
solid  nine-inch  shot  and  thirteen  pounds 
of  powder,  at  a  distance  of  not  more  than 
twelve  feet.  The  iron-clads  were  closing 
on  her,  and  the  Hartford  and  the  rest  of 
the  fleet  were  bearing  down  upon  her, 
when,  at  ten  o'clock,  she  surrendered. 
The  rest  of  the  confederate  fleet,  namely, 
the  Morgan  and  the  Gaines,  succeeded  in 
getting  back  under  the  protection  of  Fort 
Morgan.  This  terminated  the  action  of 
the  day  Admiral  Buchanan  was  himself 
badly  wounded  with  a  compound  fracture 
of  the  leg. 

On  the  following  day,  one  of  the  iron- 
clads shelled  Fort  Gaines,  and  with  such 
effect,  that  Colonel  Anderson,  the  com- 
mander, sent  a  communication  to  Farra- 
gut,  offering  to  surrender.  General  Gran- 
ger, commanding  the  military  forces,  was 
sent  for,  and  the  terms  of  capitulation 
were  signed  by  the  respective  parties  on 
board  of  the  Hartford.  From  this  time 
onward,  movements  were  in  progress  for 
capturing  Fort  Morgan,  and,  on  the  22d 
of  August,  at  day  dawn,  a  bombardment 
was  opened  from  the  shore  batteries,  the 
monitors  and  ships  inside,  and  the  vessels 
outside  the  bay.  At  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  August  23d,  a  white  flag  was 
displayed  by  the  confederates,  and,  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  fort  was  un- 
conditionally surrendered  to  the  navy  and 
army  of  the  United  States.  Fort  Powell 
had  been  already  attacked  on  the  night  of 
the  fifth,  and  blown  up. 

With  what  spirit  the  fierce  and  sanguin- 
inary  conflict  between  the  Tennessee  and 
Hartford  was  carried  on,  may  be  judged 
from  the  fact,  that,  when  it  was  reported 
to  Farragut  that  the  monster  was  bear- 
3b 


ing  down  upon  him,  he  hastened  on  deck 
with  the  remark — 

"He  is  after  me  !  let  him  come  on  if  it 
must  be  so  ;  admiral  for  admiral — -flag- 
ship for  flag-ship— Pll  fight  him!  " 

The  Tennessee  was  close  at  hand,  and 
coming  with  all  her  speed  directly  at  the 
Hartford,  evidently  with  the  intention  of 
running  her  down.  Farragut  mounted  to 
the  maintop  and  surveyed  his  ground, 
arranging  hastily  his  plan  of  battle.  This 
settled  quietly  in  his  own  mind,  he  awaited 
the  approach  of  the  monster.  Perfect 
quiet  prevailed  on  board  the  Hartford ; 
not  a  gun  was  fired ;  no  crew  was  to  be 
seen  ;  her  broadside  lay  plumply  exposed 
to  the  tremendous  blow  the  Tennessee  was 
hastening  to  give.  But,  suddenly,  there 
was  a  change ! 

When  the  monster  had  approached  near 
enough  to  answer  the  purpose  which  Far- 
ragut had  in  view,  the  helm  of  the  Hart- 
ford was  put  hard  s  port,  her  machinery 
started,  she  described  a  segment  of  a  circle, 
and,  just  as  Buchanan  had  thought  to 
strike  her  squarely  amidship  and  cut  her 
in  two, — as  he  was  capable  of  doing, — the 
towering  brow  of  the  noble  old  ship  struck 
him  a  tremendous  blow  on  his  port  quarter 
forward,  that  knocked  every  man  aboard 
his  craft  off  his  feet.  The  force  of  the 
collision  checked  the  headway  of  both  ves- 
sels. The  blow  given  by  the  Hartford 
was  a  glancing  one,  and  the  two  vessels 
came  up  broadside  to  broadside.  At  this 
moment,  a  full  broadside  from  the  Hart- 
ford was  let  go  at  her  antagonist,  but  it 
was  like  throwing  rubber  balls  against  a 
brick  wall, — nine-inch  solid  sine  though 
they  were,  and  fired  from  the  muzzles  of 
her  guns  scarcely  twelve  feet  distant. 
Simultaneously,  Buchanan  also  discharged 
his  broadside  of  four  Brookes's  rifles,  which 
passed  completely  through  the  Hartford, 
and  expended  their  force  in  the  water 
beyond. 

The  Tennessee  immediately  put  on 
steam  again,  and  started  to  try  her  strength 
with  some  other  of  the  wooden  vessels. 
The  Brooklyn  lay  nearest,  and  for  that 
ship  she  headed.  Here  she  was  met  with 


594 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


almost  precisely  the  same  reception  as 
with  the  Hartford.  Instead  of  butting 
she  received  a  butt — both  vessels  came 
together,  broadside  to  broadside ;  both 
broadsides  were  discharged,  and  the  ram 
went  on  her  way  to  try  another,  and 
another, — and  all  of  them, — but  with  no 
better  success. 

She  now  started  to  run  back  through 
the  fleet,  but  here  a  new  combination 
awaited  her.  The  monitors  had  come  up  l 
— the  appearance  of  which  seemed  for  a 
moment  to  disconcert  the  monster.  From 
the  first,  he  had  shown  a  wholesome  dread 


he  signaled  to  the  whole  fleet.  The  little 
monitor  Manhattan  appeared  directly  in 
front  of  the  ram,  to  head  him  off.  The 
rest  of  the  fleet  formed  a  circle  about  the 
monster,  and  all  commenced  paying  him 
their  heaviest  compliments.  It  was  a  ter- 
rible fire — every  ball  that  struck  the  union 
vessels  did  execution,  making  great  holes 
in  their  sides  and  reddening  their  decks 
with  blood ;  but  every  shot  that  struck  the 
Tennessee  glanced  away  like  a  rubber  ball. 
To  meet  the  exigency  at  this  critical  state 
of  affairs,  Farragut's  vessels  were  put  in 
motion,  describing  a  circle  about  the  mon- 


OKION  NAVAL  VICTORY,  IN  MOBILK  BAY. 


of  them,  and  by  skillful  maneuvering  and 
his  greater  speed  had  managed  to  avoid 
them.  Now  they  hammered  him  to  the 
utmost  of  their  ability.  The  three  had 
managed  each  to  get  a  position  in  a  differ- 
ent direction  from  each  other,  and  which- 
ever way  the  ram  turned  he  met  these 
ugly  and  invincible  foes.  At  first  he  was 
shy,  and  seemed  irresolute  as  to  what 
course  to  pursue,  but  finally  seemed  deter- 
mined to  get  out  of  the  bad  scrape  by  run- 
ning through  the  fleet  back  to  the  friendly 
protection  of  Fort  Morgan. 

Now,    then,    Admiral    Farragut's   fine 
tactics  developed  themselves,   and  which 


ster,  the  sloops  and  monitors  being  directed 
to  ram  her  every  time  they  came  around, 
which  was  done  with  deadly  effect.  Each 
vessel  chased  its  leader  about,  throwing  a 
broadside  at  the  enemy  at  every  opportun- 
ity, and  at  every  chance  getting  a  ball  a) 
her. 

In  this  way  the  plucky  fellow  was  ter 
ribly  used.  Every  time  one  of  the  sloops 
came  on  to  the  Tennessee,  the  concussion 
was  such  as  to  throw  the  crew  of  the  mon- 
ster off  their  feet.  The  frequency  with 
which  she  was  thus  rammed,  and  the  con- 
tinuous artillery  fire  that  was  rained  upon 
her,  so  demoralized  her  men,  that  thej 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


595 


are  said  to  have  begged  to  surrender,  fear- 
ing, at  every  new  shock,  that  they  would 
be  sent  to  the  bottom.  The  course  pur- 
sued by  the  vessels  was  cuch  that  the  ram 
was  unable  to  get  range  upon  any  of  them 
so  as  to  run  them  down,  thus  compelling 
the  ram  to  remain  passive.  Or,  if  she 
attempted  to  escape  the  tormentors,  an 
unlocked  for  enemy  would  come  and  strike 
her  on  the  quarter,  and  throw  her  out  of 
her  course.  During  this  melee,  the  Man- 
hattan got  one  good  shot  in  directly  at  the 
ram's  broadside.  The  huge  ball  of  iron 
struck  fairly  at  the  lower  angle  of  the 
heavy  casemates  and  penetrated  into  the 
inside,  spending  its  force  in  the  effort. 
This  was  the  only  shot  that  ever  passed 
through  her  iron.  Against  such  odds  in 
number,  such  cannonading  and  punching 
and  entanglement,  the  ram  could  not  con- 
tinue ;  and  so  the  formidable  craft — her 
smoke-stack  shot  away,  her  steering  chains 
gone,  several  of  her  port-shutters  so  jam- 
med by  the  shot  th.at  they  could  nof,  be 
opened,  and  one  of  them  battered  to 
fragments,  with  the  Chickasaw  boring 
away  at  her  stern,  and  four  other  great 
vessels  coming  at  her  full  speed — finally 
succumbed,  after  a  fight  of  somewhat  more 
than  an  hour. 

On  its  being  reported  to  Admiral  Far- 
ragut  that  the  Tennessee  had  duly  sur- 
rendered, and  that  Admiral  Buchanan 
was  wounded,  he  sent  a  staff  officer  off  to 
receive  the  confederate  admiral's  sword. 
Some  one  asked  Farragut  if  he  would  not 
go  off  himself  and  see  Buchanan.  The 
former  merely  replied,  "No,  sir,  he  is  my 
enemy."  Subsequently,  when  the  staff 
officer  returned,  with  Buchanan's  sword, 
it  was  represented  to  the  admiral  that 
Buchanan  had  expressed  a  wish  to  see 
him.  "  Well,  sir,  he  shan't  see  me  ! " 
replied  the  old  Salamander.  Then,  look- 
ing with  most  concentrated  expression  of 
countenance  upon  the  bloody  decks  of  his 
ship,  he  added — 

"  I  suppose  he  would  be  friends ;  but 
with  these  brave  men,  my  comrades,  man- 
gled, dying  and  dead  about  me,  and, 
looking  upon  the  destruction  caused 


in  the  fleet,  1  can  only  cons'rt<5r  him  an 
enemy." 

On  the  staff  officer  getting  on  board, 
Admiral  Buchanan  was  found  to  be  severely 
wounded  in  the  leg.  He  yielded  with  a 
very  bad  grace — in  fact,  it  was  said  that, 
after  receiving  his  wound,  he  gave  orders 
to  his  next  in  command  to  continue  the 
fight  as  long  as  there  was  a  man  left ;  and 
then,  when  he  found  he  could  do  no  more, 
to  run  the  vessel  ashore  and  blow  her  up. 
But  there  was  no  alternative — the  ram 
must  be  surrendered  ;  and  this  was  done. 
The  stars  and  stripes  were  hoisted  upon 
the  staff  of  the  magnificent  ram — truly 
one  of  the  most  powerful  and  perfectly 
constructed  of  her  class — greeted,  as  they 
went  up,  by  the  hearty  and  long-continued 
cheers  of  the  whole  fleet. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  devotion  of 
Admiral  Farragut's  men  to  their  com- 
mander. Thus,  after  the  Hartford  had 
hauled  off  from  her  fierce  assault  upon  the 
Tennessee,  and  as  she  was  again  pointed 
fair  for  another  blow,  and  thunderingly 
going  down  upon  her  to  dash  into  her  a 
second  time, — suddenly,  to  the  surprise  of 
all,  the  Hartford  was  herself  tremendously 
struck  by  one  of  the  heaviest  union  vessels 
which  was  also  coming  down  upon  the  con- 
federate monster,  and  it  was  thought  for  a 
brief  moment,  so  fearful  was  the  blow, 
that  she  must  go  down.  Immediately, 
and  high  above  the  din  of  battle,  hoarse, 
anxious  voices  were  heard  crying — 

"  Tho  admiral  I  the  admiral !  save  the 
admiral!  Get  the  admiral  out  of  the 
ship!" 

The  brave  men  utterly  forgot  them- 
selves— thought  not  a  moment  of  their 
own  safety,  but  only  of  their  glorious  old 
admiral.  Nothing,  certainly,  could  better 
illustrate  the  attachment  and  devotion  of 
the  whole  squadron  for  their  admiral  than 
this.  When  they  themselves  were  in 
imminent  peril  of  death,  they  only  cared 
for  him  !  Finding  the  vessel  would  float, 
notwithstanding  the  possible  serious  re- 
sults ultimately,  the  brave  old  admiral 
turned  to  his  gallant  fleet-captain  with  the 
order — 


596 


ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


"  Go  on  with  speed  !     Ram  her  again  ! " 

Onward  the  Hartford  sped,  determined 
to  '  do  and  die,'  if  need  be  ;  but,  just  before 
she  reached  her,  the  white  flag  of  surren- 
der was  hoisted  above  the  discomfited 
Tennessee,  and  soon  all  the  victory,  over 
one  of  the  bravest  of  foes,  was  with  Far- 
ragut  and  his  noble  men. 

A  little  incident  in  this  contest  may 
also  be  cited  here,  as  illustrating  his  high 
personal  qualities  as  a  man  and  officer, — 
exhibiting,  too,  as  it  does,  one  of  the 
secrets  of  his  courage  and  self-command, 
no  matter  what  the  stress  or  pressure  of 
circumstances  around  him: 

"Admiral,"  said  one  of  his  officers,  the 
night  before  the  battle,  "  won't  you  con- 
sent to  give  Jack  a  glass  of  grog  in  the 
morning — not  enough  to  make  him  drunk, 
but  just  enough  to  make  him  fight  cheer- 
fully?" 

"  Well,"  replied  the  admiral,  "  I  have 
been  to  sea  considerable,  and  have  seen  a 
battle  or  two,  but  I  have  never  found  that 
I  wanted  rum  to  enable  me  to  do  my 
duty.  I  will  order  two  cups  of  good  coffee 
to  each  man,  at  two  o'clock,  and  at  eight 
o'clock  I  will  pipe  all  hands  to  breakfast 
in  Mobile  Bay." 

The  descriptions  of  this  great  naval 
action  usually  represent  Admiral  Farra- 
gut  as  having  tied  himself  among  the  rig- 
ging, or  at  the  mast-head,  of  his  ship,  and 
there  observing  the  battle  and  giving  his 
directions.  Concerning  this,  he  was  on  a 
subsequent  occasion  inquired  of  by  one  of 
the  gentle  sex,  as  follows : 

"Admiral,"  said  the  lady,  "  do  tell  me  if 
it  was  true,  as  they  said,  that  you  were 
lashed  to  the  mast,  down  at  Mobile  Bay  ?  " 

"Ah  !  "  said  the  admiral,  good  natur- 
edly,  "I'll  tell  you  all  about  that.  You 
know  that  in  a  fight  the  smoke  of  the  guns 
lies  on  the  water,  and,  naturally,  I  would 
want  to  see  over  it,  to  know  what  was 
going  on.  Well,  I  would  jump  upon  a 
box  —  so  high  "  (indicating  with  his 
hand)  ;  then  I  would  get  up  a  little 
higher ;  and  by-and-by  I  got  up  to  where 
they  said.  I  suppose  I  was  two  hours  get- 
ting as  high  as  that.  I  had  a  little  rope 


that  I  lashed  around  me,  just  to  keep  from 
falling,  in  case  I  should  get  hurt.  Every 
one,  you  know,  is  liable  to  get  hurt  in  a 
fight." 

Up  to  the  time  of  the  surrender  of  Fort 
Morgan,  the  union  loss  in  all  was  one  ship 
sunk  by  a  torpedo,  one  burned  through 
infraction  of  orders,  and  three  hundred 
and  thirty  men  killed  and  wounded,  half 
of  whom  were  killed  by  drowning  or  the 
fire  of  the  enemy.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  unionists  took  about  fifteen  hundred 
prisoners,  captured  the  two  best  vessels  of 
the  confederates,  forced  them  to  burn  the 
gun-boat  Gaines,  and  drove  the  rest  of 
their  fleet  beyond.  Three  forts,  with 
one  hundred  guns  of  heavy  caliber,  with  all 
their  material,  were  unconditionally  sur- 
rendered to  the  victors.  The  United 
States  steamer  Oneida  suffered  more  than 
any  other  vessel. 

The  ram  Tennessee  varied  somewhat  in 
form  from  the  grim  old  Merrimac,  Bu- 
chanan's first  monster.  The  Tennessee's 
armor  consisted  of  two  and  a  half  inch 
iron,  in  bars  eight  inches  wide,  crossing 
each  other,  and  bolted  down  with  one  and 
three-quarter  inch  bolts,  making  five  inches 
of  solid  iron.  This  again  was  backed  by 
two  feet  of  solid  oak  throughout  the  entire 
portion  of  the  boat  above  the  water-line, 
and  extending  some  feet  even  below  that. 
From  her  forward  casemates  forward,  in- 
cluding her  pilot-house,  an  additional  inch 
of  iron  was  given  her,  making  six  inches 
of  plating,  and  an  additional  foot,  making 
three  feet  of  wooden  backing,  at  this  part 
of  the  boat.  What  may  be  called  her  gun- 
room occupied  about  two-thirds  of  her 
length,  and  was  constructed  with  a  flat 
top,  composed  of  two  and  a  half  by  eight- 
inch  iron  bars,  crossed  and  bolted  together, 
forming  a  close  lattice-work  above  her 
gunners,  and  affording  ventilation  while 
in  action.  Her  ports,  two  on  either  side, 
and  onb  fore  and  aft,  were  closed  by 
means  of  iron  shutters,  which  revolved 
upon  a  pivot  in  the  center  of  one  side, 
and  were  worked  by  means  of  a  cog-wheel 
on  the  inside,  in  a  very  simple  and  expe- 
ditious manner.  In  all  her  qualities  of 


ADMIRAL  FAERAGUT'S  ACHIEVEMENTS. 


597 


construction  and  equipment,  the  Tennessee 
was  one  of  the  most  formidable  craft  that 
ever  floated. 

In  close  connection  with  this  vast  and 
splendid  series  of  achievements,  and  as 
having  a  direct  bearing  upon  the  victori- 
ous ending  of  the  war  by  the  valor  of  the 
navy,  —  in  which  operations  the  brave 
Admiral  Porter  exhibited  his  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  unquailing  courage 
and  consummate  judgment,  and  whose 
magnificent  services  would  have  long  since 
elevated  him  to  the  chief  magistracy  of 
his  country,  but  for  the  traditionally  dis- 
proportionate influence  of  the  army  in 
national  politics  and  counsels, — the  cap- 
ture of  Fort  Fisher,  N.  C.,  deserves  to  be 
here  recorded. 

According  to  the  official  report,  this 
expedition,  under  the  joint  command  of 
Admiral  Porter  and  General  Terry,  sailed 
from  Fortress  Monroe  on  the  morning  of 
January  6,  1865,  arriving  in  two  days 
at  the  rendezvous  off  Beaufort,  where, 
owing  to  the  difficulties  of  the  weather,  it 
lay  some  ten  days,  when  it  got  under  way, 
reaching  its  destination  that  evening. 
Under  cover  of  the  fleet,  the  disembarka- 


tion of  the  troops  was  effected  without 
loss.  An  immediate  reconnoissance  was 
pushed  to  within  about  five  hundred  yards 
of  the  fort,  a  small  advance  work  being 
taken  possession  of  and  turned  into  a 
defensive  line,  against  any  attempt  that 
might  be  made  from  the  fort.  This  recon- 
noissance disclosed  the  fact  that  the  front 
of  the  work  had  been  seriously  injured  by 
the  navy  fire.  Not  many  hours,  therefore, 
were  allowed  to  elapse  before  the  fort  was 
assaulted,  and,  after  most  desperate  fight- 
ing, was  captured,  with  its  entire  garrison 
and  armament.  Thus  was  secured,  by 
the  combined  efforts  of  the  navy  and 
army,  what — in  the  language  of  General 
Grant — was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and 
important  successes  of  the  war.  The  fed- 
eral loss  was  one  hundred  and  ten  killed 
and  five  hundred  and  thirty-six  wounded. 
On  the  16th  and  17th,  the  enemy,  well 
knowing  the  nerve  and  prowess  of  Por- 
ter, abandoned  and  blew  up  Fort  Caswell, 
and  their  works  on  Smith's  Island,  which 
were  at  once  occupied  by  the  federal 
forces,  —  thus  giving  to  the  latter  the 
entire  control  of  the  mouth  of  the  Cape 
Fear  river. 


LXXII. 

GRAND   MARCH   OF   THE  UNION   ARMY,  UNDER   GEN. 
SHERMAN,  THROUGH    THE    SOUTH.— 1864. 


Generals  and  Armies  Baffled,  and  States  and  Cities  Conquered,  Without  a  Serious  Disaster  to  the  Vic- 
tors.— Display  of  Military  Genius  Unsurpassed  in  Any  Age  or  Country. — The  Southern  Confederacy 
Virtually  Crushed  Within  the  Coils  of  this  Wide-Sweeping,  Bold,  and  Resistless  Movement. — The 
Great  Closing  Act  in  the  Campaign. — Sherman's  Qualities  as  a  Commander. — His  Great  Military  Suc- 
cess.— His  Own  Story. — A  Brilliant  Campaign  Planned. — Brave  and  Confident  Troops. —  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  the  First  Great  Prize.— Destroys  that  City :  Starts  for  the  Coast.— Kilpatrick  Leads  the  Cav- 
alry.— Thomas  Defends  the  Border  States. — Successful  Feints  Made  by  Sherman. — Subsists  His 
Men  on  the  Enemy's  Country. — Immense  Sweep  of  the  Onward  Columns. — Savannah's  Doom 
Sealed. — Fall  of  Fort  McAllister. — Christmas  Gift  to  the  President. — Advance  Into  South  Carolina. — 
The  Stars  and  Stripes  in  Her  Capital. — All  Opposition  Powerless. — North  Carolina's  Turn  Next. — 
Swamps,  Hills,  Quagmires,  Storms,  Floods  —  Battles  Fought:  Onward  to  Raleigh. — Johnston's 
Whole  Army  Bagged. — Sherman  Described  Personally. 


•bout twe 


beg  to  present  you,  aa  a  Christ  runs  gift,  the  city  of  Savannah,  with  one  hundred  and  fifty  heavy  guns,  plenty  of  ammunition,  and 
wenty-flve  thousand  bales  of  cotton.1^— GESKBAL  HHEHMAH  TO  PKESIDEKT  Lincouf. 


ift 


ALIANT,  resolute,  and  hopeful  as  a  soldier,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  added  to  these  qualities  the  wisdom 
and  genius  of  Washington 
himself  as  a  commander.  His 
March  to  the  Sea  has  been 
universally  pronounced,  both 
in  America  and  Europe,  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  military 
results — especially  when  con- 
sidered in  connection  with  the 
slight  cost  of  life  at  which  it 
was  achieved  —  presented  in 

HEAD-QUARTERS,  ATLANTA,  OA.  ^  jong  an(J  varied  higtorv  of 

war.  It  was,  in  a  word,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  important  of  modern  campaigns, 
conducted  with  complete  success,  without  any  considerable  battle.  And  yet  it  was  his 
own  native  sagacity,  more  than  anything  else,  which  enabled  General  Sherman  to 
plan  and  execute  the  vast  undertakings  which  have  crowned  his  name  with  imperisha- 
ble honor.  "  I  have  oftentimes,"  said  General  Sherman,  in  an  address  at  West  Point, 
"  been  asked  by  friends  familiar  with  Xenophon,  Hume,  and  Jomini,  in  which  of  these 
books  I  had  learned  the  secret  of  leading  armies  on  long  and  difficult  marches,  and  they 
seemed  surprised  when  I  answered  that  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had  been  influenced  by 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


699 


any  of  them.  I  told  them  what  I  now  tell 
you,  in  all  simplicity  and  truth,  that,  when 
I  was  a  young  lieutenant  of  artillery,  I  had 
often  hunted  deer  in  the  swamps  of  the 
Edisto,  the  Cooper,  and  the  Santee,  and  had 
seen  with  my  own  eyes  that  they  could  be 
passed  with  wagons  ;  that  in  the  spring  of 
1844,  I  had  ridden  on  horseback  from 
Marietta,  Ga.,  to  the  valley  of  the  Tennes- 
see, and  back  to  Augusta,  passing  in  my 
course  over  the  very  fields  of  Altoona,  of 
Kenesaw,  and  Atlanta,  where  afterward  it 
fell  to  my  share  to  command  armies  and  to 
utilize  the  knowledge  thus  casually  gained. 
Again,  in  1849  and  1850,  I  was  in  Cali- 
fornia, and  saw  arrive  across  that  wild  belt 
of  two  thousand  miles  of  iminhabitable 
country  the  caravans  of  emigrants,  com- 
posed of  men,  women,  and  children,  who 
reached  their  destination  in  health  and 
strength;  and  when  we  used  to  start  on  a 
journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  with  a  single 
blanket  as  covering,  and  a  coil  of  dried 
meat  and  a  sack  of  parched  corn  meal  as 
food ; — with  this  knowledge  fairly  acquired 
in  actual  experience,  was  there  any  need 
for  me  to  look  back  to  Alexander  the 
Great,  to  Marlborough,  for  examples?" 
But  to  all  this  kind  of  knowledge — useful, 
doubtless,  in  the  highest  degree,  General 
Sherman  added  the  possession  of  the  most 
commanding  military  genius. 

It  was  early  in  May,  1864,  that  General 
Sherman  began  the  brilliant  series  of  his 
campaigns.  The  first  objective  point  was 
Atlanta.  To  reach  that  city,  his  armies 
had  to  pass  from  the  northern  limit  to  the 
center  of  the  great  state  of  Georgia,  forcing 
their  way  through  mountain  defiles  and 
across  great  rivers,  overcoming  or  turning 
formidably  intrenched  positions  defended 
by  a  strong,  well-appointed  veteran  army, 
commanded  by  an  alert,  cautious,  and  skill- 
ful general.  The  campaign  opened  on  the 
sixth  of  May,  and  on  the  second  of  Septem- 
ber the  national  forces  entered  Atlanta. 

For  some  time  previously  to  the  opening 
movement,  says  General  Sherman's  report, 
the  union  armies  were  lying  in  garrison 
seemingly  quiet,  from  Knoxville  to  Hunts- 
ville,  and  the  enemy  lay  behind  his  rocky- 


faced  barrier  at  Dalton,  proud,  defiant, 
and  exulting.  He  had  had  time  since 
Christmas  to  recover  from  his  discomfiture 
at  Mission  Ridge,  with  his  ranks  filled, 
and  a  new  commander-in-chief,  and  second 
to  none  in  the  confederacy  in  reputation 
for  skill,  sagacity,  and  extreme  popularity. 
All  at  once,  the  union  armies  assumed  life 
and  action,  and  appeared  before  Dalton. 
Threatening  Rocky  Face,  they  threw 
themselves  upon  Resaca,  the  enemy  only 
escaping  by  the  rapidity  of  their  retreat, 
aided  by  the  numerous  roads  with  which 
they  only  were  familiar.  Again  the  con- 
federate army  took  post  in  Altoona,  but 
found  no  rest,  for,  by  a  circuit  towards 
Dallas  and  subsequent  movement  to  Ac- 
worth,  the  union  army  gained  the  Al- 
toona Pass.  Then  followed  the  eventful 
battles  about  Kenesaw,  and  the  escape  of 
the  confederates  across  the  Chattahoochee 
river.  The  crossing  of  the  Chattahoochee 
and  breaking  of  the  Augusta  road  was 
handsomely  executed  by  Sherman's  army. 
It  was  at  this  stage  of  proceedings,  that  the 
confederate  authorities  became  dissatisfied 
with  Johnston  as  commander,  and  selected 
one  more  bold  and  rash, — General  Hood. 
New  tactics  were  adopted  by  the  latter. 
He  first  boldly  and  rapidly,  on  the  twen- 
tieth of  July,  fell  on  the  union  right,  at 
Peach  Tree  creek,  and  lost.  Again,  on 
the  22d,  he  struck  the  extreme  union  left, 
and  was  severely  punished;  and  finally, 
again  on  the  28th,  he  unsuccessfully  re- 
peated the  attempt  on  the  union  right. 
Sherman  slowly  and  gradually  drew  his 
lines  about  Atlanta,  feeling  for  the  rail- 
road which  supplied  the  confederate  army 
and  made  Atlanta  a  place  of  importance. 
The  enemy  met  these  efforts  patiently  and 
skillfully,  bu.t  at  last  Hood  made  the  mis- 
take which  Sherman  had  waited  for  so 
long,  sending  his  cavalry  to  the  union 
rear,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  recall.  In- 
stantly Sherman's  cavalry  was  on  Hood's 
only  remaining  road,  with  the  principal 
army  following  quietly,  and  Atlanta  fell 
into  Sherman's  possession,  as  the  fruit  of 
well-concerted  measures,  backed  by  a  brave 
and  confident  army. 


600 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


Hood's  plan  was,  to  force  General  Sher- 
man from  Georgia,  by  cutting  off  his  com- 
munications, and  invading  Tennessee  and 
Kentucky.  Pursuant  to  this  plan,  Hood, 
by  a  rapid  march,  gained  and  broke  up,  at 
Big  Shanty,  the  railroad  that  supplied 
Sherman's  army,  advanced  to  Daltou,  and 
thence  moved  toward  Tennessee.  Hood 
was  followed  from  Atlanta  by  Sherman  far 
enough  north  to  cover  his  own  purpose  and 
assure  him  against  Hood's  interrupting 
the  march  to  the  sea-coast  which  he  had  in 
contemplation.  The  task  of  encountering 
Hood's  formidable  movements,  and  defend- 
ing the  border  states  from  invasion,  was 
intrusted  to  General  Thomas,  who  was 
ably  assisted  by  his  second  in  command, 
General  Schofield. 

It  appears  from  Major  Nichols's  graphic 
diary  of  the  events  connected  with  this 
great  march — the  narrative  of  his  excel- 
lent observations  as  one  of  Sherman's  staff 
officers — that  the  general,  from  his  camp 
at  Gaylesville,  while  awaiting  the  develop- 
ment of  Hood's  design,  sketched  out  the 
march  to  Goldsboro'.  Seated  in  front  of 
his  tent,  towards  the  end  of  October,  1864, 
with  his  generals  around  him,  and  the 
map  of  the  states  spread  on  his  knees 
Sherman  ran  his  finger  over  the  map,  and 
indicated  his  course  to  Savannah.  Then, 
after  pondering  on  the  map  of  South  Car- 
olina, his  finger  rested  on  Columbia,  and 
looking  up,  he  said — 

"Howard,  I  believe  we  can  go  there, 
without  any  serious  difficulty.  If  we  can 
cross  the  Salkahatchie,  we  can  capture 
Columbia." 

After  giving  expression  to  this  strik- 
ing strategic  insight,  General  Sherman 
passed  his  finger  quickly  over  rivers, 
swamps,  and  cities,  to  Goldsboro',  N.  C., 
saying — 

"  That  point  is  a  few  days'  march 
through  a  rich  country.  When  we  reach 
that  important  railway  junction — when  I 
once  plant  this  army  at  Goldsboro', — Lee 
must  leave  Virginia,  or  he  will  be  defeated 
beyond  hope  of  recovery.  We  can  make 
this  march,  for  General  Grant  assures  me 
that  Lee  cannot  get  away  from  Richmond 


without  his  knowledge,  nor  without  seri- 
ous loss  to  his  armv." 

This  prediction,  showing  at  once  the 
most  remarkable  forecast  and  most  com- 
prehensive generalship,  was  at  once  put  in 
course  of  fulfillment. 

Atlanta  having  served  its  purpose  in 
General  Sherman's  plans — a  resting-place 
on  his  way  to  Savannah,  to  Columbia,  and 
to  Richmond  if  need  be, — it  was  given  up 
to  the  flames,  that  its  workshops  might 
never  again  be  employed  in  casting  shot 
and  shell  for  the  confederacy.  The  rail- 
ways were  torn  up,  the  people  turned 
away,  and  torches  were  applied  to  the 
stores  and  magazines.  A  space  of  two 
hundred  acres  was  soon  on  fire,  and  its 
progress  watched  until  the  conflagration 
had  spread  beyond  the  power  of  man  to 
arrest  its  destructive  work,  and  then  the 


union  forces   marched  out  of  the  unfortu- 
nate  city  with  solemn  tread,  their  band 
playing  the  wild  anthem,  "John  Brown's, 
soul  goes  marching  on."     The  army  num- 
bered about  sixty-five  thousand  men. 

As  the  news  of  Sherman's  great  move- 
ment became  known  at  the  .north,  intense 
interest  was  felt  in  the  result,  and  it  may 
well  be  supposed  that  not  a  few  were  filled 
with  the  greatest  apprehensions,  in  view  of 
the  dangers  to  be  encountered.  That  the 
president,  however,  did  not  share  in  any 
such  feeling  of  alarm  in  regard  to  the 
issue,  is  shown  by  the  following  converse/- 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


601 


tion  on  the  subject,  between  him  and  a 
friend. 

Said  Mr.  Lincoln's  friend:  "Mr.  Lin- 
coln, as  Sherman's  army  advances,  the 
rebel  forces  necessarily  concentrate  and 
increase  in  number.  Before  long,  Sher- 
man will  drive  the  columns  of  Johnston, 
Bragg,  Hoke,  and  others,  within  a  few 
days'  march  of  Lee's  main  army.  May 
not  Lee  suddenly  inarch  south  with  the 
bulk  of  his  army,  form  a  junction  with 
Johnston's  troops,  and  before  Grant  can 
follow  any  considerable  distance,  strike 
Sherman's  column  with  superior  force, 
break  his  lines,  defeat  his  army,  and  drive 
his  broken  fragments  back  to  the  coast, 
and  with  his  whole  army  give  battle  to 
Grant,  and  perhaps  defeat  him  ?  " 

President  Lincoln  instantly  replied: 
"And  perhaps  not!  Napoleon  tried  the 
same  game  on  the  British  and  Prussians, 
in  1815.  He  concentrated  his  forces  and 
fell  suddenly  on  Blucher,  and  won  an  inde- 
cisive victor}*.  He  then  whirled  round  and 
attacked  the  British,  and  met  his  Water- 
loo. Bonaparte  was  hardly  inferior  to 
Lee  in  military  talents  or  experience. 
But  are  you  sure  that  Lee's  forces,  united 
with  Johnston's,  could  beat  Sherman's 
army  ?  Could  he  gain  his  Ligny,  before 
meeting  with  his  Waterloo  when  he  at- 
tacks Grant  ?  I  tell  you,  there  is  a  heap 
of  fight  in  one  hundred  thousand  western 
veterans.  They  are  a  good  deal  like  old 
Zach.  Taylor  at  Buena  Vista, — they  don't 
know  when  they  are  whipped  !  " 

In  turning  his  back  upon  Atlanta,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  divided  his  army  for  the 
great  march  into  two  wings,  General 
Howard  commanding  the  right,  and  Gen- 
eral Slocum  the  left ;  General  Kilpatrick 
handled  the  cavalry  under  Sherman's 
orders.  The  various  corps  composing  the 
wings  were  led,  respectively,  by  Generals 
Osterhaus,  Blair,  Davis,  and  Williams; 
and  Sherman  for  a  time  accompanied  one 
wing  and  then  the  other. 

On  the  13th  of  November,  Sherman's 
communications  with  the  north  ceased. 
Spreading  itself  out  like  a  fan,  the  extreme 
left  wing  swept  down  the  Augusta  road, 


and  the  extreme  right  marched  towards 
Macon,  the  space  between  being  covered 
by  two  corps,  one  from  each  wing,  and  the 
cavalry  riding  well  on  the  flanks.  Mil- 
ledgeville,  the  capital  of  Georgia,  on  the 
Oconee,  was  the  first  point  of  concentra- 
tion for  the  left  wing.  The  right  wing, 
preceded  and  flanked  by  cavalry,  went 
down  the  roads  towards  Macon,  sweeping 
away  the  small  opposing  forces  mustered 
by  Cobb  and  Wheeler,  and  advancing  as 
far  as  Griffin.  The  left  wing  went  by 
Covington  to  Madison,  and  there,  sending 
the  cavalry  towards  Augusta,  turned  south- 
ward by  way  of  Eatonton  to  Milledgeville. 
The  right,  after  maneuvering  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Macon,  crossed  the  Ocmulgee  above 
it,  and,  passing  by  Clinton,  descended 
upon  Gordon,  whence  a  branch  line  led  to 
Milledgeville. 

The  movement  of  troops  on  so  many 
points  had  confounded  the  confederates. 
The  authorities  of  Augusta  believed  their 
town  was  the  object  of  the  march ;  those 
of  Macon  were  certain  that  it  was  against 
them  the  enemy  was  coming.  In  reality, 
Sherman  had  turned  toward  Macon,  and 
had  cut  off  at  least  the  infantry  force 
there,  and  rendered  it  useless.  They 
showed  fight,  however,  attacking  a  small 
union  force,  pushed  up  to  Griswoldville  to 
protect  the  confederates  who  were  destroy- 
ing the  railroad,  and  were  punished  se- 
verely for  their  courage. 

In  a  week  after  quitting  Atlanta,  the 
left  wing  was  united  at  Milledgeville  and 
the  right  at  Gordon,  while  the  cavalry 
were  scouring  the  flanks.  In  the  mean- 
time, General  Wheeler  had  ridden  round 
the  right  flank,  and  crossing  the  Oconee, 
had  turned  to  defend  the  passage  of  the 
swampy  stream.  But  his  resistance  was 
vain.  Slocum  moved  out  from  Milledgeville 
upon  Sandersville,  and  Howard  marched 
on  both  sides  of  the  Savannah  railway, 
thrusting  Wheeler  away  from  the  bridge 
over  the  Oconee,  and  crossing  himself 
without  the  loss  of  a  man.  The  left  wing 
was  now  converging  on  Louisville,  while 
the  right  struck  across  the  country,  by 
Swainsboro',  upon  Millen.  It  was  now 


602 


SHEKMAN'S  MAKCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


>•  Mill  i*  s\»^ 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


603 


piam  that  the  confederates  had  no  troops 
strong  enough  to  interrupt  the  march,  as 
all  their  efforts  had  failed  to  arrest  the 
forward  movement  of  the  columns. 

In  this  way,  covering  a  wide  front,  now 
filing  through  swamps,  now  spreading  out 
on  a  broad  front  under  the  tufted  pines, 
now  halting  to  tear  up,  twist,  and  burn 
rails  and  sleepers,  now  collecting  cattle  and 
forage,  and  everywhere  welcomed  and  fol- 
lowed by  the  negroes,  the  army  pressed 
forward  to  its  goal.  The  left  flankers  came 
down  through  Sparta,  the  solid  body  of  the 
left  wing  marched  through  Davisboro',  the 
right  moved  steadily  forward  upon  Millen, 
while  Kilpatrick  was  in  the  front  threat- 
ening Waynesboro',  and  destroying  the 
bridges  on  the  way  to  Augusta.  At  length 
the  whole  force,  save  one  corps,  crossed 
the  Ogeechee  and  united  at  Millen. 

Here,  again,  Sherman  kept  his  oppo- 
nents in  doubt  respecting  the  course  he 
would  pursue.  At  Millen  he  threatened 
both  Augusta  and  Savannah,  and  he  made 
such  strong  demonstrations  on  the  Au- 
gusta road,  that  he  led  the  confederates  to 
fear  for  Augusta,  and  so  prevented  them 
from  concentrating  their  troops  at  Savan- 
nah. Kilpatrick,  supported  by  two  infan- 
try brigades,  very  effectually  disposed  of 
Wheeler.  The  army  halted  two  days,  and, 
refreshed  and  united,  began  on  the  second 
of  December,  its  final  march  upon  Savan- 
nah. The  whole  force,  save  one  corps, 
went  steadily  down  the  strip  of  laud  be- 
tween the  Savannah  and  the  Ogeechee, 
while  the  one  corps  on  the  right  bank, 
marching  in  two  columns,  a  day  in  ad- 
vance of  the  main  body,  effectually  pre- 
vented the  confederates  from  making  any 
stand  on  the  main  road  by  constantly 
flanking  every  position, — a  sound  precau- 
tion, though  not  needed. 

The  correspondents  who  accompanied 
this  grand  army  on  its  triumphant  march, 
have  furnished  abundant  narrative  con- 
cerning that  brilliant  consummation  of  its 
toils,  the  capture  of  Savannah.  It  was  on 
the  evening  of  December  12th,  says  one  of 
these,  that  General  Howard  relieved 
Hazen's  second  division  of  the  fifteenth 


corps,  by  a  part  of  the  Seventeenth,  and 
threw  it  across  the  Little  Ogeechee, 
toward  the  Great  Ogeechee,  with  the 
view  of  crossing  it  to  Ossabaw  Island, 
and  reducing  Fort  McAllister,  which  held 
the  river  and  the  city.  The  confederates 
had  destroyed  King's  bridge,  across  the 
Great  Ogeechee,  and  this  had  to  be  re- 
paired ;  this  was  done — one  thousand  feet 
of  bridging — during  the  night,  and,  on  the 
morning  of  the  13th,  Hazen  crossed  and 
moved  toward  the  point  where  Fort  McAl- 
lister obstructed  the  river.  Kilpatrick,  in 
the  meantime,  had  moved  down  to  St. 
Catherine's  sound,  opened  communication 
with  the  fleet,  and  asked  permission  to 
storm  Fort  McAllister;  but  Sherman 
thought  the  cavalry  unequal  to  this  feat. 

Hazen  made  his  arrangements  to  storm 
the  fort  on  the  afternoon  of  the  13th,  Gen- 
erals Sherman  and  Howard  being  at  Che- 
roe's  rice  mill,  on  the  Ogeechee,  opposite 
the  fort.  Sherman  was  on  the  roof  of  the 
mill,  surrounded  by  his  staff  and  signal 
officers,  Beckley  and  Cole,  waiting  to  com- 
municate with  Hazen,  on  the  Island. 
While  patiently  waiting  for  Hazen's  sig- 
nals, Sherman's  keen  eye  detected  smoke 
in  the  horizon,  seaward.  Up  to  this  time 
he  had  received  no  intelligence  from  the 
fleet.  In  a  moment  the  countenance  of 
the  bronzed  chieftain  lightened  up,  and  he 
exclaimed — 

"  Look !  Howard ;  there  is  the  gun- 
boat!" 

Time  passed  on,  and  the  vessel  now 
became  visible,  but  no  signal  from  the 
fleet  or  Hazen.  Half  an  hour  passed,  and 
the  guns  of  the  fort  opened  simultaneously 
with  puffs  of  smoke  that  rose  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  from  the  fort,  showing  that 
Hazen's  skirmishers  had  opened.  A  mo- 
ment after,  Hazen  signaled — 

"I  have  invested  the  fort,  and  will 
assault  immediately." 

At  this  moment,  Beckley  announced  a 
signal  from  the  gun-boat.  All  eyes  now 
turned  from  the  fort  to  the  gun-boat  that 
was  coming  to  their  assistance  with  news 
from  home.  A  few  messages  pass,  which 
apprise  that  Foster  and  Dahlgren  are 


604 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


within  speaking  distance.  The  gun-boat 
now  halts  and  asks — 

"  Can  we  run  up  ?  Is  Fort  McAllister 
ours  ?  " 

"No,"  is  the  reply;  "Hazen  is  just 
i-eady  to  storm  it.  Can  you  assist  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  is  the  response ;  "  What  will 
you  have  us  do  ?  " 

But  before  Sherman  can  reply  to  Dahl- 
gren  the  thunders  of  the  fort  are  heard, 
and  the  low  sound  of  small  arms  is  borne 
across  the  three  miles  of  marsh  and  river. 
Field  glasses  are  opened,  and,  sitting  flat 
upon  the  roof,  the  hero  of  Atlanta  gazes 
away  off  to  the  fort.  "  There  they  go 
grandly — not  a  waver,"  he  remarks. 

Twenty  seconds  pass,  and  again  he  ex- 
claims— 

"  See  that  flag  in  the  advance,  Howard ; 
how  steadily  it  moves ;  not  a  man  falters. 
*  *  There  they  go  still ;  see  the  roll  of 
musketry.  Grand,  grand  !  " 

Still  he  strained  his  eyes,  and  a  moment 
after  spoke  without  looking  up — 

"  That  flag  still  goes  forward ;  there  is 
no  flinching  there." 

A  pause  for  a  minute. 

"  Look  ! "  he  exclaims,  "  it  has  halted. 
They  waver — no,  it's  the  parapet !  There 
they  go  again;  now  they  scale  it;  some 
are  over.  Look !  There's  a  flag  on  the 
works!  Another;  another.  It's  ours. 
The  fort's  ours  ! " 

The  glass  dropped  by  his  side  ;  and  in 
an  instant  the  joy  of  the  great  leader  at 
the  possession  of  the  river  and  the  open- 
ing of  the  road  to  his  new  base  burst  forth 
in  words — 

"  As  the  old  darkey  remarked,  dis  chile 
don't  sleep  dis  night !  " — and  turning  to 
one  of  his  aids,  he  added,  "  Have  a  boat 
for  me  at  once ;  I  must  go  there  ! " — 
pointing  to  the  fort  from  which  half  a 
dozen  battle-flags  floated  grandly  in  the 
sunset. 

But  this  dramatic  scene  is  thus  graphi- 
cally delineated  by  another  correspondent, 
who  brings  the  narrative  down  to  the  cul- 
minating and  crowning  event.  The  United 
States  revenue  cutter  Nemaha,  Lieutenant 
Warner,  General  Foster's  flag-boat,  left 


Hilton  Head,  on  the  morning  of  December 
12th,  to  go  down  the  coast  with  General 
Foster  and  staff,. to  endeavor  to  open  com- 
munication with  General  Sherman,  going 
through  to  Fort  Pulaski  and  thence 
through  the  marsh  to  Warsaw  Sound, 
looking  toward  the  main  canal  to  discover 
some  traces  of  Sherman's  advance.  None 
were  observed,  so  Foster  proceeded  outside, 
and  entered  Ossabaw  Sound,  where  the 
gun-boat  Flag,  on  blockading  duty,  was 
communicated  with.  Lieutenant  Fisher 
was  here  left  on  board  the  Flag,  to  proceed 
with  his  party  up  the  Ogeechee,  and  en- 
deavor to  jienal  to  Sherman,  if  he  should 
approach  the  coast  at  that  point. 

The  Nemaha  returned  to  Warsaw,  and 
moved  up  the  Wilmington  river,  anchor- 
ing just  out  of  range  of  a  confederate  bat- 
tery. During  the  night,  rockets  were 
thrown  up  by  Captain  Merrill,  chief  of  ths 
signal  corps,  to  announce  his  presence  to 
General  Sherman's  signal  officers,  but 
elicited  no  response. 

Lieutenant  Fisher  was  more  successful. 
The  Flag  fired  six  guns  in  rapid  succes- 
sion, from  a  heavy  gun,  as  a  signal,  and 
then  Lieutenant  Fisher  threw  up  several 
rockets  and  closely  examined  the  horizon 
over  the  mainland  for  the  response.  At 
about  three  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 
13th,  after  a  rocket  had  been  discharged 
from  the  Flag,  a  little  stream  of  light  was 
observed  to  shoot  up  in  the  direction  of  the 
Ogeechee,  and  quickly  die  away.  Another 
rocket  was  immediately  sent  up  from  the 
flag-ship,  and  a  second  stream  of  light  was 
seen  in  the  same  position  as  the  first.  It 
then  became  a  question,  whether  or  not 
they  were  confederate  signals  to  deceive 
the  federal  officers. 

At  about  seven  o'clock,  the  navy  tug 
Dandelion,  acting  master  Williams,  took 
Lieutenant  Fisher  and  his  party,  and  Cap- 
tain Williamson,  of  the  flag-ship,  and  pro- 
ceeded up  the  Ogeechee,  to  a  point  within 
sight  of  Fort  McAllister  and  the  batteries 
on  the  Little  Ogeechee.  Here  Lieutenant 
Fisher  took  a  small  boat  and  proceeded  up 
as  far  as  possible  without  drawing  the 
enemy's  fire.  A  careful  reconnoissance 


SHERMAN'S  MAECH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


G05 


was  made  jf  the  fort  and  the  surrounding 
woods,  from  which  came  the  reports  of 
musketry,  and  the  attention  of  the  garrison 
seemed  to  be  directed  inland  entirely.  A 
flag,  which  seemed  like  that  of  the  Union, 
was  seen  flying  from  a  house  four  miles  off, 
and  on  more  careful  examination  the  stars 
were  plainly  visible,  and  all  doubt  of  the 
character  of  the  fl.ig  was  at  once  removed. 
It  ivas  the  flag  t/iat  had  floated  over  Gen- 
eral Howard's  head-quarters  at  Atlanta, 
and  now  flamed  out  on  the  sea-coast, 
within  eiffht  miles  of  the  city  of  Savan- 
nah. Lieutenant  Fisher  at  once  returned 
to  the  tug,  and  moved  up  to  an  opening 
out  of  range  of  Fort  McAllister,  when, 
from  the  top  of  the  pilot-house  of  the  Dan- 
delion, the  American  flag  could  be  dis- 
tinctly seen.  A  white  signal  flag  was  at 
once  raised  by  Lieutenant  Fisher,  and  at 
once  a  signal  flag  of  like  nature  was  waved, 
and  communication  opened.  Lieutenant 
Fisher  signaled — 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  McClintock,  chief  signal  officer  of 
General  Howard,"  was  signaled  back. 

A  message  was  at  once  sent  to  General 
Sherman,  tendering  all  aid  from  General 
Foster  and  Admiral  Dahlgren.  General 
Sherman  then  signaled  that  he  was  invest- 
ing Fort  McAllister,  and  wanted  to  know 
if  the  boat  could  help  with  her  heavy  guns. 
Before  any  reply  could  be  given,  Sherman 
had  signaled  to  Hazen,  of  the  fifteenth 
corps,  to  take  the  fort  immediately.  In 
five  minutes  the  rally  had  been  sounded 
by  the  bugles.  One  volley  of  musketry 
was  heard,  and  the  next  moment  the  three 
brigade  flags  of  Hazen's  troops  were 
placed,  almost  simultaneously,  on  the  par- 
apets of  Fort  McAllister.  The  fort  was 
captured  in  twenty  minutes  after  General 
Sherman's  order  to  take  it  was  given. 
Sherman  then  sent  word  that  he  would  be 
down  that  night,  and  to  look  out  for  his 
boat.  The  tug  immediately  steamed  down 
to  Ossabaw  Sound,  to  find  General  Foster 
or  Admiral  Dahlgren  ;  but  they  not  being 
there,  dispatches  were  sent  to  them  at 
Warsaw,  announcing  General  Sherman's 
intended  visit,  and  the  tug  returned  to  its 


old  position.  While  approaching  the  fort 
again  a  small  boat  was  seen  coming  down. 
It  was  hailed  with — 

"What  boat  is  that  ?  "  and  the  welcome 
response  came  back — 

"Sherman." 

It  soon  came  alongside,  and  out  of  the 
little  dug-out,  paddled  by  two  men,  stepped 
General  Sherman  and  General  Howard, 
and  stood  on  the  deck  of  the  Dandelion. 
The  great  leader  was  received  with  cheer 
after  cheer. 

The  city  of  Savannah,  strongly  fortified, 
and  garrisoned  by  a  large  force  under  Gen- 
eral Hardee,  was  summoned,  but  surrender 
was  refused.  Preparations  for  assault 
were  made,  and,  during  the  night  of  De- 
cember 20th,  Hardee  evacuated  the  city, 
and,  with  a  large  part  of  his  garrison, 
escaped  under  cover  of  darkness.  The 
union  army  soon  after  entered  the  city, 
and  General  Sherman  thus  announced 
to  President  Lincoln  this  splendid  tri- 
umph : 

"  /  bey  to  present  you,  as  a  Christmas 
yift,  the  city  of  Savannah,  with  150  heavy 
guns,  and  plenty  of  ammunition,  and  also 
about  25,000  bales  of  cotton." 

Waiting  at  Savannah  only  long  enough 
to  refit  and  recruit,  Sherman  again  began 
a  march  which,  for  peril,  labor,  and  results, 
will  compare  with  any  ever  made  by  an 
organized  army.  The  floods  of  the  Savan- 
nah, the  swamps  of  the  Combahee  and 
Edisto,  the  high  hills  and  rocks  of  the 
Santee,  the  flat  quagmires  of  the  Pedee 
and  Cape  Fear  rivers,  were  all  passed  in 
mid-winter,  with  its  floods  and  rains,  in 
the  face  of  an  accumulating  enemy. 

On  the  morning  of  February  17th,  Gen- 
eral Sherman  entered  Columbia,  the  capi- 
tal of  South  Carolina.  In  about  a  month 
fron  this  time,  and  after  fighting  battles 
at  Averysboro'  and  Bentonville,  he  made 
a  junction  with  General  Terry's  forces  at 
Goldsboro',  K  C.,  and  from  this  point 
pushed  onward  to  Ealeigh,  where,  on  the 
26th  of  April  he  received  the  surrender  of 
the  confederate  army  under  Johnston, — the 
only  remaining  formidable  confederate 
army  in  existence  at  that  time  east  of  the 


606 


SHERMAN'S  MARCH  THROUGH  THE  SOUTH. 


Mississippi  river, — thus  virtually  crushing 
the  southern  confederacy.  Indeed,  it  was 
Sherman's  intention  not  to  stop  short  of 
Richmond,  and  only  the  great  events  con- 
summated a  short  time  previously  at  that 
important  point,  under  Grant's  masterly 
generalship,  rendered  this  part  of  the  pro- 
gramme unnecessary. 

At  this  time,  the  great  warrior,  as  de- 
scribed by  his  accomplished  aid-de-camp, 
Major  Nichols,  was  in  person  nearly  six 
feet  in  height,  with  a  wiry,  muscular,  and 
not  ungraceful  frame.  His  age  only  forty- 
seven  years,  but  his  face  furrowed  with 
deep  lines,  indicating  care  and  profound 
thought.  With  surprising  rapidity,  how- 
ever, these  strong  lines  disappeared  when 
he  talked  with  women  and  children.  His 
eyes  dark  brown,  and  sharp  and  quick  in 
expression ;  his  forehead  broad  and  fair, 
and  sloping  gently  at  the  top  of  the  head, 
the  latter  being  covered  with  thick  and 
light  brown  hair,  closely  trimmed ;  his 
beard  and  moustache,  of  a  sandy  hue, 
were  also  closely  cut.  Of  an  iron  consti- 
tution, exposure  to  cold,  rain,  or  burning 
heat,  seemed  to  produce  no  effect  upon  his 
powers  of  endurance  and  strength.  Under 
tne  most  harassing  conditions,  he  exhibited 


no  signs  of  fatigue.  When  in  the  field  he 
retired  earl}',  but  at  midnight  he  might  be 
found  pacing  in  front  of  his  tent,  or  sitting 
by  the  camp-fire  smoking  his  cigar.  He 
would  fall  asleep  as  easily  and  as  quickly 
as  a  little  child, — by  the  roadside  or  upon 
wet  ground,  on  the  hard  floor  or  when  a 
battle  stirred  the  scene  ;  but  the  galloping 
of  a  courier's  horse  down  the  road  would 
instantly  awaken  him,  as  well  as  a  voice 
or  movement  in  his  tent.  As  showing  his 
thorough  military  spirit,  it  is  related  of 
him,  that,  before  the  fall  of  Atlanta,  ho 
refused  a  commission  of  major-general  in 
the  regular  army,  saying,  "These  positions 
of  so  much  trust  and  honor  should  be  held 
open  until  the  close  of  the  war.  They 
should  not  be  hastily  given.  Important 
campaigns  are  in  operation.  At  the  end, 
let  those  who  prove  their  capacity  and 
merit  be  the  ones  appointed  to  these  high 
honors."  The  great  captain  was  in  a 
short  time  made  lieutenant-general,  and, 
subsequently,  on  the  accession  of  General 
Grant  to  the  presidency,  he  oecai^e  GEN- 
ERAL OF  THE  AKMY, — a  military  rank 
and  title  conferred  only  upon  three  per- 
sons, since  the  founding  of  the  republic, 
namely,  WASHINGTON,  GRANT,  SHEKMAN. 


LXXIII. 

FALL  OF  RICHMOND,  VA.,  THE  CONFEDERATE 
CAPITAL.— 1865. 


The  Entrenched  City  Closely  Encompassed  for  Months  by  General  Grant's  Brave  Legions  and  Walls  of 
Steel.— Flight  of  Jefferson  Davis,  and  Surrender  of  General  Lee's  Army.— Overthrow  of  the  Four 
Years'  Gigantic  Rebellion.— The  -(Egis  and  Starry  Ensigns  of  the  Republic  Everywhere  Dominant- 
Transports  of  Joy  Fill  the  Land.— A  Nation's  Laurels  Crown  the  Head  of  the  Conqueror  of  Peace. 
—Memorable  Day  in  Human  Affairs.— Momentous  Issues  Involved  —Heavy  Cost  of  this  Triumph. 
—Without  it,  a  Lost  Republic  — Unequaled  Valor  Displayed.— Sherman's  Grand  Conceptions.— 
Sheridan's  Splendid  Generalship.— Onward  March  of  Events.— Strategy,  Battles,  Victories.— Lee'a 
Lines  Fatally  Broken.— Approach  of  the  Final  Crisis  —Richmond  Evacuated  by  Night.— Retreat 
of  Lee:  Vigorous  Pursuit.— His  Hopeless  Resistance  to  Grant —Their  Correspondence  and  Inter- 
Tie  w. The  Two  Great  Generals  Face  to  Face.— What  was  Said  and  Done. — Announcing  the  Result. 

—Parting  of  Lee  with  His  Soldiers.— President  Lincoln's  Visit  to  Richmond  —Raising  the  United 
States  Flag  at  Fort  Sumter. — Davis  a  Prisoner  in  Fortress  Monroe. 


MI  prooow  to  4(tht  it  oat  on  thii  lin«.  if  it  takes  all  summer."—  OBSEEAL  GIAHT'I  DufATCH  FKOM  THE  FIELD. 


'EEXES  crossing  the  Hellespont  with  his  miles  of 
troops  and  flotilla,  and  over  which  vast  concourse, 
he  wept,  it  is  said,  as  it  passed  iu  review,  was  not 
a  more  memorable  illustration  of  the  pomp  and 
circumstance  of  war,  than  that  which  was  exhibit- 
ed in  1864  and  1866  by  the  Union  army  under  Gen- 
eral Grant,  which,  like  a  wall  of  steel,  beleagvor- 
ed  the  entrenched  city  of  Kichmond — the  strong- 
hold of  his  country's  foes, —  and  brought  it,  in 
April  of  the  last-named  year,  to  submission  and 
surrender ;  and  with  which  event,  the  hosts  that 
had  been  gathered  by  a  powerful  confederacy  for 
the  overthrow  of  the  republic,  melted  away  in 
defeat  and  disaster,  the  disunion  chieftains  became 
fugitives,  and  the  long  strife  of  arms  ceased 
throughout  the  nation.  This  event  has  been  j.-stly 
characterized  as  far  more  momentous  than  any 
other  that  is  likely  to  happen  in  our  time,  and 
which  will  always  make  1865  one  of  the  great 
years  of  history — putting  it,  in  fact,  in  the  same 
category  with  the  first  year  of  the  Christian  era, 
oE^GRlNT^ATiNG  TERMS  OF  SURRENDER,  the  year  in  which  Eome  was  sacked,  in  which 


608 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


Europe  was  saved  from  the  Saracens,  in 
which  Luther  began  to  preach  the  Reform- 
ation, in  which  Parliament  drew  the  sword 
against  Charles  I.,  and  in  which  the  first 
shot  was  fired  in  the  American  Revolu- 
tion ;  a  year,  in  short,  in  which  events 
marked  the  commencement  of  a  new  and 
important  stage  in  human  progress. 

That  the  foe  thus  vanquished  was  not 
an  inferior  one  is  shown  by  the  single  fact, 
— if  by  no  other — as  stated  by  one  of  the 
most  reliable  authorities  in  such  matters, 
that,  in  the  whole  history  of  war,  no  city 
has  been  purchased  by  a  conqueror  at  so 
heavy  a  price  as  it  cost  to  take  Richmond. 
Napoleon  took  Berlin,  Vienna,  and  Mos- 
cow, each  in  a  single  campaign,  and,  when 
the  scale  of  fortune  turned,  the  Allies 
entered  Paris  in  two  successive  years. 
Sebastopol  resisted  the  English  and  French 
armies  for  thirteen  or  fourteen  months, 
and  four  or  five  battles  were  fought  in  the 
hope  of  raising  the  siege.  For  nearly 
four  years,  Richmond  was  the  principal 
object  of  siege  and  attack  by  the  union 
armies,  and  probably  half  a  million  of  men 
were  at  different  times  employed  in  at- 
tempting its  conquest.  After  the  disas- 
ter at  Bull  Run  had  shown  the  federal 
government  the  deficiencies  of  its  military 
organization,  General  McClellan  command- 
ed an  army  of  not  far  from  two  hundred 
thousand  men  on  the  Potomac,  and  he  land- 
ed more  than  half  the  number  in  the  Pe- 
ninsula, while  his  colleagues  defended  the 
approaches  of  Washington.  The  losses  of 
the  union  army  in  the  disastrous  campaign 
of  the  Chickahominy,  and  in  the  subsequent 
defeat  of  General  Pope,  were  variously 
estimated  from  fifty  thousand  all  the  way 
up  to  one  hundred  thousand  men.  Burn- 
side's  loss,  in  his  attack  upon  the  heights 
of  Fredericksburg,  was  not  far  from  fifteen 
thousand  men,  and  about  the  same  result 
attended  the  struggle  between  Generals 
Lee  and  Hooker,  in  1863.  The  magnifi- 
cent union  victory  at  Gettysburg,  involv- 
ing so  great  a  loss  of  life,  was  included  in 
the  same  campaign.  It  was  not  till  the 
early  summer  of  1864,  that  General  Grant 
commenced  his  final  advance  upon  Rich- 


mond, and  the  battles  which  ensued  in  the 
Shenandoah  and  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Petersburg,  added  largely  to  the  record  of 
bloodshed.  Great  and  most  precious,  how- 
ever, as  was  the  cost  of  final  victory  to  the 
union  army,  its  final  defeat  instead  would 
have  been  at  the  cost  of  the  existence  of 
the  Republic  ! 

The  splendid  military  conceptions  of 
General  Sherman,  and  their  perfect  execu 
tion,  had  much  to  do  with  hastening  the 
downfall  of  Richmond  and  the  collapse  of 
the  southern  confederacy,  nor  can  the  brave 
and  effective  movement  of  General  Sheri- 
dan in  the  same  relation  be  too  highly 
eulogized  by  his  countrymen.  Of  the  lat- 
ter general's  services,  at  this  most  excit- 
ing and  momentous  crisis,  General  Grant 
says  :  "  During  the  30th,  (March,  1865.'> 
Sheridan  advanced  from  Dinwiddie  Court- 
House  towards  Five  Forks,  where  he  found 
the  enemy  in  force.  General  Warren 
advanced  and  extended  his  line  across  the 
Boydton  plank  road  to  near  the  White 
Oak  road,  with  a  view  of  getting  across 
the  latter  ;  but  finding  the  enemy  strong 
in  his  front,  and  extending  beyond  his  left, 
was  directed  to  hold  on  where  he  was  and 
fortify.  General  Humphreys  drove  the 
enemy  from  his  front  into  his  main  line  on 
the  Hatcher,  near  Burgess's  mills.  Gen- 
erals Ord,  Wright,  and  Parke,  made  exam- 
inations in  their  fronts  to  determine  the 
feasibility  of  an  assault  on  the  enemy's 
lines.  The  two  latter  reported  favorably. 
The  enemy  confronting  us,  as  he  did,  at 
every  point  from  Richmond  to  our  extreme 
left,  I  conceived  his  lines  must  be  weakly 
held,  and  could  be  penetrated  if  my  esti- 
mate of  his  forces  was  correct.  I  deter- 
mined, therefore,  to  extend  my  line  no 
further,  but  to  re-enforce  General  Sheri- 
dan with  a  corps  of  infantry,  and  thus  ena- 
ble him  to  cut  loose  and  turn  the  enemy's 
right  flank,  and  with  the  other  corps  as- 
sault the  enemy's  lines." 

With  what  soldierly  gallantry  Sheridan 
and  his  colleagues  fulfilled  the  parts  as- 
signed them  by  their  superior,  is  thus 
related  by  the  latter.  "  On  the  morning 
of  the  31st,  General  Warren  reported  fa- 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


609 


vorably  to  getting  possession  of  the  White 
Oak  road,  and  was  directed  to  do  so.  To 
accomplish  this,  he  moved  with  one  divis- 
ion, instead  of  his  whole  corps,  which  was 
attacked  by  the  enemy  in  superior  force 
and  driven  back  on  the  second  division 
before  it  had  time  to  form,  and  it,  in  turn, 
forced  back  upon  the  third  division, 
when  the  enemy  was  checked.  A  divis- 
ion of  the  second  corps  was  immedi- 
ately sent  to  his  support,  the  enemy  driven 
back  with  heavy  loss,  and  possession  of 
the  White  Oak  road  gained.  Sheridan 
advanced,  and  with  a  portion  of  his  cavalry 
got  possession  of  the  Five  Forks,  but  the 
enemy,  after  the  affair  with  the  fifth  corps, 
re-enforced  the  rebel  cavalry,  defending 
that  point  with  infantry,  and  forced  him 
back  towards  Dinwiddie  Court-House. 
Here  General  Sheridan  displayed  great 
generalship.  Instead  of  retreating  with 
his  whole  command  on  the  main  army,  to 
tell  the  story  of  superior  forces  encount- 
ered, he  deployed  his  cavalry  on  foot,  leav- 
ing only  mounted  men  enough  to  take 
charge  of  the  horses.  This  compelled  the 
enemy  to  deploy  over  a  vast  extent  of 
woods  and  broken  country,  and  made  his 
progress  slow.  At  this  juncture,  he  dis- 
patched to  me  what  had  taken  place,  and 
that  he  was  dropping  back  slowly  on  Din- 
widdie Court-House."  Never  was  the  trib- 
ute of  praise  more  worthily  bestowed, 
than  this  by  the  greatest  of  American 
heroes  upon  General  Sheridan. 

But  still  more  important  events  were 
hastening.  "On  the  morning  of  the  1st 
of  April,"  says  General  Grant,  "  General 
Sheridan,  re-enforced  by  General  Warren, 
drove  the  enemy  back  on  Five  Forks, 
where,  late  in  the  evening,  he  assaulted 
and  carried  his  strongly  fortified  position, 
capturing  all  his  artillery,  and  between 
five  and  six  thousand  prisoners.  About 
the  close  of  this  battle,  Brevet  Major- 
General  Charles  Griffin  relieved  Major- 
General  Warren,  in  command  of  the  fifth 
corps.  The  report  of  this  reached  me  after 
nightfall.  Some  apprehensions  filled  my 
mind  lest  the  enemy  might  desert  his  lines 

during   the   night,  and   by   falling   upon 
39 


General  Sheridan  before  assistance  could 
reach  him,  drive  him  from  his  position 
and  open  the  way  for  retreat.  To  guard 
against  this,  General  Miles's  division  of 
Humphrey's  corps  was  sent  to  re-enforce 
him,  and  a  bombardment  was  commenced 
and  kept  up  until  four  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, April  2d,  when  an  assault  was  ordered 
on  the  enemy's  lines.  General  Wright 
penetrated  the  lines  with  his  whole  corps, 
sweeping  everything  before  him  and  to 
the  left  towards  Hatcher's  Eun,  capturing 
many  guns  and  several  thousand  prisoners. 
He  was  closely  followed  by  two  divisions 
of  General  Ord's  command,  until  he  met 
the  other  division  of  General  Ord's  that 
had  succeeded  in  forcing  the  enemy's  lines 
near  Hatcher's  Run.  Generals  Wright 
and  Ord  immediately  swung  to  the  right, 
and  closed  all  of  the  enemy  on  that  side  of 
them  in  Petersburg,  while  General  Hum- 
phreys pushed  forward  with  two  divisions 
and  joined  General  Wright  on  the  left. 
General  Parke  succeeded  in  carrying  the 
enemy's  main  line,  capturing  guns  and 
prisoners,  but  was  unable  to  carry  his 
inner  line.  General  Sheridan  being  advised 
of  the  condition  of  affairs,  returned  Gen- 
eral Miles  to  his  proper  command.  On 
reaching  the  enemy's  lines  immediately 
surrounding  Petersburg,  a  portion  of  Gen- 
eral Gibbon's  corps,  by  a  most  gallant 
charge,  captured  two  strong,  enclosed  works 
— the  most  salient  and  commanding  south 
of  Petersburg — thus  materially  shortening 
the  line  of  investment  necessary  for  tak- 
ing in  the  city.  The  enemy  south  of 
Hatcher's  Eun  retreated  westward  to 
Sutherland's  station,  where  they  were 
overtaken  by  Miles's  division.  A  severe 
engagement  ensued  and  lasted  until  both 
his  right  and  left  flanks  were  threatened 
by  the  approach  of  General  Sheridan,  who 
was  moving  from  Ford's  station  towards 
Petersburg,  and  a  division  sent  by  Gen- 
eral Meade  from  the  front  of  Petersburg, 
when  he  broke  in  the  utmost  confusion, 
leaving  in  our  hands  his  guns  and  many 
prisoners.  This  force  retreated  by  the 
main  road  along  the  Appomattox  river. 
During  the  night  of  the  second,  the  enemy 


610 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


611 


evacuated  Petersburg  and  Richmond,  and 
retreated  toward  Danville.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  3d,  pursuit  was  commenced. 
General  Sheridan  pushed  for  tlje  Danville 
road,  keeping  near  the  App.omattox,  fol- 
lowed by  General  Meade  with  the  second 
and  sixth  corps,  while  General  Ord  moved 
for  Burkesville  along  the  South  Side  road, 
the  ninth  corps  stretched  along  that  road 
behind  him," — these  combined  movements 
being  made  with  such  rapidity  and  effec- 
tiveness, that  Lee's  army  could  have  no 
expectation  of  escape  founded  upon  any 
reasonable  probability. 

By  the  night  of  Tuesday,  April  4th, 
Sheridan  and  the  fifth  corps  had,  by  a 
march  of  thirty-six  miles,  gained  a  position 
west  of  Lee,  near  Jettersville,  on  the  roai 
to  Burkesville.  This  movement  resulted 
the  next  day  in  the  capture  of  a  train  of 
three  hundred  wagons,  with  five  cannon 
and  a  thousand  prisoners.  On  Wednes- 
day, Grant,  with  the  twenty-fourth  corps, 
had  reached  Nottoway  Court-House,  and 
there  learned  by  a  dispatch  from  Sheridan 
that  Lee  had  been  intercepted.  On  Thurs- 
day, Grant  had  brought  his  army  up  to 
Sheridan's  support,  and  with  the  second, 
fifth,  and  sixth  corps,  lay  in  line  of  battle 
at  Burke's  Station,  facing  to  the  north 
and  east,  and  cutting  Lee  off  from  Dan- 
ville. Lee  then  tried  to  move  on  toward 
Lynchburg,  by  taking  a  circuitous  route 
by  way  of  Deatonsville,  toward  the  Appo- 
mattox,  which  he  hoped  to  cross,  and,  with 
the  river  between  him  and  Grant,  secure 
his  retreat.  Lee  was  compelled  to  fight 
at  Deatonsville,  where  he  was  defeated, 
his  loss  amounting  to  thirteen  thousand 
prisoners,  including  Lieutenant-General 
Ewell  and  Major-Generals  Custis  Lee, 
Kershaw,  Corse,  DeBarry,  Anderson,  Hun- 
ton,  and  Barton.  Fourteen  cannon  were 
also  taken,  and  several  hundred  wagons. 

On  Friday,  April  7th,  Grant  wrote  briefly 
to  Lee,  asking  him  to  surrender  "  that 
portion  of  the  Confederate  States  army 
known  as  the  Army  of  Northern  Virginia." 
He  said :  "  The  result  of  last  week  must 
convince  you  of  the  hopelessness  of  further 
resistance  on  the  part  of  the  army  of 


Northern  Virginia  in  this  struggle."  Lee 
replied  the  same  day,  saying  that  though 
he  was  not  entirely  of  Grant's  opin- 
ion as  to  the  hopelessness  of  further 
resistance,  he  reciprocated  the  desire  to 
avoid  useless  effusion  of  blood,  and  asked 
upon  what  terms  Grant  would  accept  the 
surrender.  On  the  8th,  Grant  again  wrote, 
declaring  that  he  should  insist  upon  but 
one  condition,  namely :  "  That  the  men 
surrendered  shall  be  disqualified  for  taking 
up  arms  again  against  the  government  of  the 
United  States  until  properly  exchanged." 
To  this,  Lee  replied  that  he  did  not  think 
the  emergency  had  arisen  to  call  for  the 
surrender,  but  desired  an  interview  at  ten 
o'clock  the  next  day,  on  the  old  stage 
road  to  Richmond,  in  respect  to  the  restor- 
ation of  peace.  On  the  ninth,  Grant 
wrote  that  he  had  no  authority  to  grant 
such  an  interview.  He  said :  "  The 
terms  upon  which  peace  can  be  had  are 
well  understood.  By  the  South  laying 
down  their  arms  they  will  hasten  that 
most  desirable  event,  save  thousands  of 
human  lives  and  hundreds  of  millions  of 
property  not  yet  destroyed." 

In  taking  the  ground  that  he  did  in  this 
correspondence,  Grant  acted  expressly 
in  accordance  with  the  views  entertained 
by  his  superiors  at  Washington.  It  ap- 
pears that  among  the  dispatches  which 
Grant  had  sent  to  the  president,  about 
this  time,  was  one  in  which  he  spoke  of  an 
application  to  be  made  by  Lee  for  an 
interview  to  negotiate  about  peace.  Mr. 
Lincoln  intimated  pretty  clearly  an  inten- 
tion to  permit  extremely  favorable  terms, 
and  to  let  his  general-in-chief  settle  them  ; 
and  this  even  to  an  extent  that  overpow- 
ered the  reticent  habits  of  his  secretary  of 
war,  who,  after  restraining  himself  as  long 
as  he  could,  broke  out  sternly,  saying — 

"  Mr.  President,  to-morrow  is  inaugura- 
tion day  If  you  are  not  to  be  the  presi- 
dent of  an  obedient  and  united  people,  you 
had  better  not  be  inaugurated.  Your 
work  is  already  done,  if  any  other  author- 
ity than  yours  is  for  one  moment  to  be 
recognized,  or  any  terms  made  that  do  not 
signify  that  you  are  the  supreme  head  of 


612 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


the  nation.  If  generals  in  the  field  are 
to  negotiate  peace,  or  any  other  chief 
magistrate  is  to  be  acknowledged  on  the 
continent,  then  you  are  not  needed,  and 
you  had  better  not  take  the  oath  of  office." 

"  Stanton,"  said  the  president  —  his 
whole  tone  changing,  "you  are  right.  Let 
me  have  a  pen." 

Mr.  Lincoln  sat  down  at  the  table  and 
wrote  as  follows  : 

"  The  President  directs  me  to  say  to 
you  that  he  wishes  you  to  have  no  confer- 
ence with  General  Lee,  unless  it  be  for 
the  capitulation  of  Lee's  army,  or  on  some 
minor  or  purely  military  matter.  He 
instructs  me  to  say  that  you  are  not  to 
decide,  discuss,  or  confer  on  any  political 
question ;  such  questions  the  president 
holds  in  his  own  hands,  and  will  submit 
them  to  no  military  conferences  or  conven- 
tions. In  the  meantime,  you  are  to  press 
to  the  utmost  j'our  military  advantages." 

The  president  now  read  over  what  he 
had  written,  and  then  said — 

"  Now,  Stanton,  date  and  sign  this  paper, 
and  send  it  to  Grant.  We  '11  see  about 
this  peace  business." 

Grant's  note  declining  any  interview  to 
consider  terms  of  peace  was  received 
by  Lee  on  the  spot  which  he  had  desig- 
nated for  the  meeting.  On  receipt  of  this, 
Lee  at  once  dispatched  another  note, 
requesting  a  personal  interview  for  the 
object  named  in  Grant's  previous  commun- 
ication— the  surrender  of  Lee's  army.  A 
flag  of  truce  proceeded  to  Appomattox 
Court-House  shortly  after  noon,  and  at 
about  two  o'clock  the  two  generals  met  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  W.  McLean.  General 
Lee  was  attended  by  General  Marshall,  his 
adjutant-general ;  General  Grant,  by  Colo- 
nel Parker,  one  of  his  chief  aids-de-camp. 
General  Grant  arrived  about  fifteen  min- 
utes later  than  General  Lee,  and  entered 
the  parlor  where  the  latter  was  awaiting 
him. 

The  two  generals  greeted  each  other 
with  dignified  courtesy,  and  after  a  few 
moments  conversation,  proceeded  to  the 
business  before  them.  Lee  immediately 
alluded  to  the  conditions  named  by  General 


Grant  for  the  surrender,  characterized 
them  as  exceedingly  lenient,  and  said  he 
would  gladly  leave  all  the  details  to  Gen- 
eral Grant's  own  discretion.  Of  this  inter- 
view, General  Grant  himself  gave  the 
following  interesting  account  to  some 
friends,  at  a  private  dinner-party  in  Wash- 
ington : 

"  I  felt  some  embarrassment  in  the  pros- 
pect of  meeting  General  Lee.  I  had  not 
seen  him  since  he  was  General  Scott's 
chief-of-staff  in  Mexico  ;  and  in  addition  to 
the  respect  I  entertained  for  him,  the 
duty  which  I  had  to  perform  was  a  dis- 
agreeable one,  and  I  wished  to  get  through 
it  as  soon  as  possible.  When  I  reached 
Appomattox  Court-House,  I  had  ridden 
that  morning  thirty-seven  miles.  I  was 
in  my  campaign  clothes,  covered  with  dust 
and  mud  ;  I  had  no  sword  ;  I  was  not  even 
well  mounted,  for  I  rode  (turning  to  Gen- 
eral Ingals,  who  was  present,)  one  of 
Ingals's  horses.  I  found  General  Lee  in  a 
fresh  suit  of  confederate  gray,  with  all  the 
insignia  of  his  rank,  and  at  his  side  the 
splendid  dress-sword  which  had  been  given 
him  by  the  state  of  Virginia.  We  shook 
hands.  He  was  exceedingly  courteous  in 
his  address,  and  we  seated  ourselves  at  a 
deal  table  in  Mr.  McLean's  front  room. 
We  talked  of  two  of  the  conditions  of  sur- 
render, which  had  been  left  open  by  our 
previous  correspondence,  one  of  which  re- 
lated to  the  ceremonies  which  were  to  be 
observed  on  the  occasion  ;  and  when  I  dis- 
claimed any  desire  to  have  any  parade, 
but  said  I  should  be  contented  with  the 
delivery  of  arms  to  my  officers,  and  with 
the  proper  signature  and  authentication  of 
paroles,  he  seemed  to  be  greatly  pleased. 
When  I  yielded  the  other  point,  that  the 
officers  should  retain  their  side  arms  and 
private  baggage  and  horses,  his  emotions 
of  satisfaction  were  plainly  visible.  We 
soon  reduced  the  terms  to  writing.  We 
parted  with  the  same  courtesies  with  which 
we  had  met.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Gen- 
eral Lee  evinced  a  feeling  of  satisfaction 
and  relief  when  the  business  was  finished. 
I  immediately  mounted  Ingals's  horse,  re- 
turned to  General  Sheridan's  head-quarters, 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


613 


and  did  not  again  present  myself  to  the 
confederate  commander." 

The  house  in  which  this  most  memora- 
ble interview  took  place  was  s.  comfortable 
and  well-built  double  brick  house,  with  a 
small  green  lawn  in  front.  The  occupant, 
Mr.  McLean,  lived  in  1861  at  Bull  Run, 
and  owned  the  farm  on  which  the  first 
and  famous  Bull  Run  battle  was  fought. 
It  was  in  consequence  of  the  disturbed 
state  of  the  country  and  the  annoyances 
to  which  he  was  subjected,  that  he  aban- 
doned his  place,  and  took  refuge  in  the 
distant  town  of  Appomattox.  Here  he 
purchased  some  land  and  settled  quietly 
down,  as  he  thought,  beyond  the  tide  of 
war.  But  fate  followed  him ;  for,  about 
four  years  after  he  left  the  Bull  Run  farm, 
the  southern  army  was  surrounded  at 
Appomattox,  and  the  last  battle  as  well  as 
the  first  was  fought  on  his  farm  !  The 
large  marble-topped  center  table,  on  which 
the  two  generals  signed  the  minutes,  was 
of  a  somewhat  antiquated  style,  and  was 
afterwards  purchased  by  General  Ord  for 
fifty  dollars.  General  Ouster  purchased 
the  other  table,  of  small  size,  on  which  the 
documents  were  prepared,  for  twenty-five 
dollars. 

After  the  interview,  General  Lee  re- 
turned to  his  own  camp,  about  half  a  mile 
distant,  where  his  leading  officers  were 
assembled,  awaiting  his  return.  He  an- 
nounced the  result  and  the  terms,  where- 
upon they  expressed  great  satisfaction  at 
the  liberal  conditions.  They  then  ap- 
proached him  in  order  of  rank,  shook 
hands,  and  assured  him  of  their  approval 
of  his  course,  and  their  regret  at  parting. 
The  fact  of  surrender  and  the  easy  terms 
were  then  announced  to  the  troops,  and 
when  General  Lee  appeared  among  them 
he  was  loudly  cheered. 

Immediately  after  the  evacuation  of 
Richmond,  General  Weitzel,  with  the 
second  brigade  of  the  third  division  of  the 
twenty-fourth  army  corps,  entered  the  city 
and  took  possession,  hoisting  the  United 
States  flag  at  every  prominent  point,  and 
on  the  next  day  President  Lincoln  visited 
the  falleu  capital.  His  appearance  was 


greeted  with  tumultuous  cheering,  though 
he  cainu  with  no  pomp  of  attendance  or 
surroundings,  and  totally  unheralded.  He 
arrived  in  a  United  States  war  vessel, 
early  in  the  afternoon,  at  the  landing 
called  the  Rocketts,  about  a  mile  below 
the  city,  and  thence,  accompanied  by  his 
young  son  and  Admiral  Porter,  -went  to 
the  city  in  a  boat.  Mr.  0.  C.  Coffin, 
(."  Carleton,")  the  accomplished  corre- 
spondent of  the  Boston  Journal,  in  giving 
an  account  of  this  presidential  visit,  says 
that  somehow  the  negroes  on  the  bank  of 
the  river  ascertained  that  the  tall  man 
•wearing  a  black  hat  was  President  Lin- 
coln. There  was  a  sudden  shout.  An 
officer  who  had  just  picked  up  fifty  negroes 
to  do  work  on  the  dock,  found  himself 
alone.  They  left  work,  and  crowded 
around  the  president.  As  he  approached, 
I  said  to  a  colored  woman, — 

"  There  is  the  man  who  made  you  free." 

"  What,  massa  ?  " 

"  That  is  President  Lincoln." 

"  Dat  President  Linkum  ?" 

"Yes." 

She  gazed  at  him  a  moment,  clapped 
her  hands,  and  jumped  straight  up  and 
down,  shouting  "  Glory,  glory,  glory  !"  till 
her  voice  was  lost  in  the  universal 
cheer. 

There  was  no  carriage  near,  so  the  presi- 
dent, leading  his  son,  walked  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  up  to  General  Weitzel's  head- 
quarters— Jefferson  Davis's  presidential 
mansion.  A  colored  man  acted  as  guide. 
Six  sailors,  wearing  their  round  blue  caps 
and  short  jackets  and  bagging  pants,  with 
navy  carbines,  were  the  advance  guard. 
Then  came  the  president  and  Admiral 
Porter,  flanked  by  the  officers  accompany- 
ing him,  and  the  correspondent  of  the 
Boston  Journal,  then  six  more  sailors  with 
carbines, — amid  a  surging  mass  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  black,  white,  and 
yellow,  running,  shouting,  and  dancing, 
swinging  their  caps,  bonnets  and  hand- 
kerchiefs. The  soldiers  saw  him  and 
swelled  the  crowd,  cheering  in  wild  enthu- 
siasm. All  could  see  him,  he  was  so  tall, 
so  conspicuous. 


614 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


One  colored  woman,  standing  in  a  door- 
way, as  the  president  passed  along  the 
sidewalk,  shouted,  "  Thank  you,  dear 
Jesus,  for  this !  thank  you,  Jesus ! " 
Another,  standing  by  her  side,  was  clap- 
ping her  hands  and  shouting,  "  Bless  de 
Lord ! "  A  colored  woman  snatched  her 
honnet  from  her  head,  whirled  it  in  the 
air,  and  screamed  with  all  her  might, 
"  God  bless  you,  Massa  Linkum  !  " 

President  Lincoln  walked  in  silence, 
acknowledging  the  salutes  of  officers  and 
soldiers,  and  of  the  citizens,  black  and 
white.  It  was  the  man  of  the  people 
among  the  people.  It  was  the  greft  de- 
liverer among  the  delivered.  General 
Shepley  met  the  president  in  the  street, 
and  escorted  him  to  General  Weitzel's 
quarters.  Major  Stevens,  hearing  that 
the  president  was  on  his  way,  suddenly 
summoned  a  detachment  of  Massachusetts 
cavalry,  and  cleared  the  way.  After  a 
tedious  walk,  the  mansion  of  Mr.  Davis 
was  reached.  The  immense  crowd  swept 
round  the  corner  of  the  street  and  packed 
the  space  in  front.  General  Weitzel 
received  the  president  at  the  door.  Cheer 
upon  cheer  went  up  from  the  excited  mul- 
titude, two-thirds  of  whom  were  colored. 
The  officers  who  had  assembled  were 
presented  to  the  president  in  the  reception 
room,  and  then  citizens  innumerable  paid 
him  their  respects ;  after  which  the  presi- 
dent took  a  ride  through  the  city,  accom- 
panied by  Admiral  Porter,  Generals  Shep- 
ley and  Weitzel,  and  others. 

All  this  took  place  only  a  few  hours 
after  the  flight  of  Davis.  Early  in  the 
forenoon  of  that  eventful  Sunday,  Lee  tel- 
egraphed to  his  chief,  that  his  lines  had 
been  broken  in  three  places  and  that  Rich- 
mond must  be  evacuated  in  the  evening. 
This  message  was  delivered  to  Davis  at 
eleven  o'clock,  while  he  was  in  church. 
He  immediately  left,  and,  arranging  his 
affairs  as  well  as  time  would  permit,  pro- 
ceeded with  his  cabinet  to  Danville.  Pol- 
lard, the  historian  of  the  southern  cause, 
states  that  the  rumor  was  caught  up  in 
the  streets  that  Richmond  was  to  be  evac- 
uated, and  was  soon  carried  to  the  ends 


of  the  city.  Men,  women,  and  children, 
rushed  from  the  churches,  passing  from 
lip  to  lip  news  of  the  impending  fall.  It 
was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  the  signs 
of  evacuation  became  apparent  to  the  in- 
credulous. Wagons  on  the  streets  were 
being  hastily  loaded  at  the  departments 
with  boxes,  trunks,  etc.,  and  driven  to  the 
Danville  depot.  Those  who  had  deter- 
mined to  evacuate  with  the  fugitive  govern- 
ment looked  on  with  amazement;  then, 
convinced  of  the  fact,  rushed  to  follow  the 
government's  example.  Vehicles  suddenly 
rose  to  a  premium  value  that  was  astound- 
ing. All  over  the  city  it  was  the  same — 
wagons,  trunks,  boxes,  bundles,  and  their 
hurrying  owners,  filling  the  streets.  By 
order  of  the  military  authorities,  all  the 
spirituous  liquor  in  the  city  was  destroyed, 
but  some  of  it  was  seized  and  used  by  the 
straggling  soldiery,  who  thereupon  commit- 
ted the  grossest  excesses.  The  great 
tobacco  warehouses  were  also,  by  mili- 
tary order,  set  on  fire,  as  were  also  the 
various  bridges  leading  out  of  the  city, 
and  the  rams  in  James  river  were  blown 
up.  The  whole  scene  was  awful  in  the 
extreme. 

At  Danville,  Davis  set  up  the  form  and 
machinery  of  his  government,  issuing  at 
once  a  stirring  address,  in  which  he  said  : 
"  We  have  now  entered  upon  a  new  phase 
of  the  struggle.  Relieved  from  the  neces- 
sity of  guarding  particular  points,  our 
army  will  be  free  to  move  from  point  to 
point,  to  strike  the  enemy  in  detail  far 
from  his  base."  Waiting  here,  in  expect- 
ation of  Lee's  arrival  with  his  army,  the 
news  of  the  surrender  of  the  latter  reached 
him  on  the  10th  of  April.  Dismayed  at 
the  tidings,  Davis  hastilj'  made  his  escape 
to  Greensboro,  N.  C.,  and  afterwards,  with 
various  haltings,  to  Charlotte,  N.  C.,  and 
thence  to  Washington  and  Irwinsville, 
Ga.,  where  he  was  captured,  May  llth,  by 
the  union  cavalry,  and  carried,  a  prisoner, 
to  Fortress  Monroe.  This  was,  in  form, 
the  close  of  the  war.  General  Johnston 
surrendered  his  army  at  Raleigh,  N.  C., 
April  26th,  to  General  Sherman.  General 
Howell  Cobb,  with,  his  militia  and  five 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


615 


generals,  surrendered  to  General  Wilson, 
at  Macon,  Ga.,  April  20th.  Gen.  Dick 
Taylor  surrendered  all  the  remaining  con- 
federate forces  east  of  the  Mississippi  to 
General  Cauby,  May  14th  ;  and,  on  the 
26th  of  the  same  month,  Gen.  Kirby  Smith 
surrendered  his  entire  command,  west  of 
the  Mississippi,  to  the  same  officer.  On 
the  14th  of  April, — just  four  years  from 
the  memorable  bombardment  and  evacua- 
tion,— the  flag  of  the  United  States  was 
planted  again  upon  Fort  Sumter,  under 
the  orders  of  the  president,  by  the  hands 
of  General  Anderson,  its  commander  in 
April,  1861. 

The  close  of  this  mighty  struggle,  assur- 
ing the  world  of  the  continued  nationality 
of  the  American  Union,  filled  the  land 
with  such  transports  and  demonstrations 
of  joy  as  were  never  before  known  among 
any  people  ;  and  the  laurels  of  the  nation 
covered  the  brow  of  GRANT,  the  hero  of 
might}'  battles — the  Conqueror  of  Peace. 
By  special  act  of  congress,  the  full  and 
supreme  rank  of  General — a  title  never 
worn  by  a  United  States  commander  since 
the  days  of  the  illustrious  Washington, — 
was  revived  and  conferred  upon  Grant; 
and,  as  the  highest  honor  in  the  gift  of 
his  countrymen,  he  was  in  18G9  transfer- 
red from  the  command  of  the  army  to  the 
exalted  position  of  President  of  the  United 
States,  in  which  station  he  remained  eight 
years. 

One  event,  in  especial,  among  the  clus- 
ter just  named  in  connection  with  the 
closing  scenes  of  the  Great  Conflict,  de- 
serves more  than  a  passing  mention  here, 
namely,  the  He-possession  of  Fort  Sumter, 
and  the  restoration  to  its  original  place  on 
that  historic  spot,  by  General  Anderson,  nf 
the  identical  flag  which,  after  an  honora- 
ble and  gallant  defense,  he  was  compelled 
to  lower  in  April,  1861. 

This  ceremony  of  re-occupation  took 
place,  as  ordered  by  President  Lincoln,  on 
Friday,  April  14th,  1865,  in  presence  of 
several  thousands  of  spectators.  Among 
the  company  were  Generals  Giilmore,  Dix, 
Washburne,  Doubleday,  Anderson,  Dela- 
field,  Grover,  Hatch,  and  Saxton,  Rev. 


Henry  Ward  Beecher,  William  Lloyd 
Garrison,  George  Thompson,  Assistant  Sec- 
retary Fox,  of  the  Navy  Department, 
Professor  Davis,  and  some  two  hundred 
officers  of  the  navy.  The  spectators  were 
convej'ed  from  Charleston  to  the  fort  by 
steamers,  and  the  ceremonies  were  ushered 
in  at  noon  with  a  song  and  chorus  entitled 
'  Victory  at  Last.' 

Prayer  was  now  offered  by  Rev.  Mat- 
thias Harris,  chaplain  United  States  Army, 
who  made  the  prayer  at  the  raising  of 
the  flag  when  Major  Anderson  suddenly 
removed  his  command  from  Fort  Moultrie 
to  Fort  Sumter,  December  27th,  1860. 
Rev.  Dr.  Storrs,  of  Brooklyn,  then  read 
selections  of  scripture,  after  which,  Adju- 
tant-General Townsend  read  Major  And"r- 
son's  dispatch,  dated  steamship  Baltic,  on 
Sandy  Hook,  April  18th,  1861,  announcing 
the  fall  of  Fort  Sumter. 

Major-General  Anderson  and  Sergeant 
Hart  then  stepped  forward  on  the  platform 
and  unfurled  the  glorious  old  banner,  amid 
the  deafening  cheers  of  the  assemblage. 
As  they  raised  the  flag,  with  an  evergreen 
wreath  attached,  the  occupants  on  the 
stage  all  joined  in  taking  hold  of  the  hal- 
yards. The  scene  of  rejoicing  that  fol- 
lowed, as  the  flag  reached  the  top  of  the 
staff,  was  indescribable.  The  enthusiasm 
was  unbounded.  There  was  a  simultane- 
ous rising,  cheering,  and  waving  of  hats 
and  handkerchiefs,  for  fully  fifteen  minutes. 
As  the  starry  emblem  floated  out  grace- 
fully to  the  strong  breeze,  the  joyful  dem- 
onstrations were  repeated,  which  were 
responded  to  by  music  from  the  bauds,  a 
salute  of  one  hundred  guns  at  Fort  Sumter, 
and  a  national  salute  from  every  fort  and 
battery  that  fired  upon  Sumter  in  April, 
1861.  When  this  was  over,  General  Ander- 
son came  forward  and  said — 

"  I  am  here,  friends  and  fellow-citizens, 
and  brother  soldiers,  to  perform  an  act  of 
duty  which  is  dear  to  my  heart,  and  which 
all  of  you  present  appreciate  and  feel.  Did 
I  listen  to  the  promptings  of  my  own 
heart,  I  would  not  attempt  to  speak  ;  but 
I  have  been  desired  by  the  secretary  of 
war  to  make  a  few  remarks.  By  the  con- 


616 


FALL  OF  RICHMOND. 


siderate  appointment  of  the  honored  secre- 
tary of  war  to  fulfill  the  cherished  wish  of 
my  heart  through  four  long  years  of  bloody 
war — to  restore  to  its  proper  place  this 
very  flag  which  floated  here  during  peace, 
before  the  first  act  of  this  cruel  rebellion 
— I  thank  God  I  have  lived  to  see  this 
day,  to  be  here  to  perform  this,  perhaps 
the  last  act  of  duty  to  my  country  in  this 
life.  My  heart  is  filled  with  gratitude  to 
Almighty  God  for  the  signal  blessings  he 
has  given  us — blessings  beyond  number. 
May  all  the  world  proclaim  '  Glory  to  God 


in  the  highest ;  on  earth,  peace  and  good 
will  toward  men.'  " 

The  <Star  Spangled  Banner'  was  then 
sung  by  the  whole  audience,  with  great 
feeling  and  effect;  after  which,  Eev. 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  delivered  a  com- 
memorative oration  of  great  eloquence  and 
power.  The  doxology,  with  devotional 
services,  closed  the  public  exercises  of  the 
day ;  and,  with  cheers  for  President  Lin- 
coin,  the  old  Flag,  the  Union,  Generals 
Grant,  Sherman,  and  others,  the  vast  inul 
titude  separated. 


LXXIV. 

ASSASSINATION    OF    PRESIDENT    LINCOLN,    AT    FORD'S 

THEATER,  WASHINGTON,  BY  J.  WILKES 

BOOTH.— 1865. 


Conspiracy  to  Murder,  Simultaneously,  all  the  Chief  Officers  of  tlie  Government  —The  Moat  Exalted 
and  Beloved  of  Mortal  Rulers  Falls  a  Victim.— A  Universal  Wail  of  Anguish  and  Lamentation 
Poured  Forth  from  the  National  Heart— Darkest  Page  in  the  History  of  the  Country.— Funeral  Cor- 
tege Through  Fifteen  States.— Tragical  Fate  of  the  Conspirators.— Object  of  this  Most  Infamous  of 
Crimes  —Singular  Time  of  its  Perpetration.— Virtual  End  of  the  Great  Civil  War.— Dawn  of  Peace : 
Universal  Joy.— President  Lincoln's  Happy  Frame  of  Mind.— How  He  Passed  His  Last  Day.— Con- 
versations on  the  Evening  of  April  14th. — Makes  an  Engagement  for  the  Morrow  — Last  Time  He 
Signed  His  Name.— Reluctantly  Goes  to  the  Theater.— Arrives  Late :  Immense  Audience. — Plans  and 
Movements  of  Booth,  the  Assassin.— The  Fatal  Shot :  A  Tragedy  of  Horrors  —Removal  of  the  Presi- 
dent to  a  Private  House. — Speechless  and  Unconscious  to  the  End  — Death-Bed  Scenes  and  Incidents. 
— The  Nation  Stunned  at  the  Appalling  News. — Its  Reception  at  the  South,  and  by  General  Lee. 

— A  Continent  in  Tears  and  Mourning.— Most 
Imposing  Obsequies  Ever  Known. — Booth's  Swift 
and  Bloody  End.— Trial  of  His  Male  and  Female 
Accomplices. 


— ••  Mourn  ye  for  him?  let  htm  be  regarded 
AB  the  most  noble  corse  that  ever  herald 
Did  follow  to  hi>  urn." 


,  E VIEWING  the  great  procession  of  events 
which  distinguish  the  ninety  years  cov- 
ered hy  our  national  existence,  up  to  the 
present  time,  there  is,  confessedly,  none 
of  the  many  during  that  period,  which 
shows  so  dark  and  terrible  a  page,— none  which  so  paralyzed  the  heart  of  the  nation,  or 
sent  such  a  thrill  of  agony  through  the  four  continents  of  the  globe,  causing  world-wide 
sorrow  and  lamentation,— as  the  assassination  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  president  of  the 
United  States,  by  John  Wilkes  Booth,  at  Ford's  Theater,  in  the  capital  of  the  nation, 
on  the  night  of  April  14th,  1865.  And  this  bloody  deed  was  but  one  act  in  the  diabol- 
ical conspiracy  which  contemplated  the  simultaneous  murder  of  the  chief  officers  of 
state,  at  the  federal  capital,  to  the  end  that  panic  might  there  seize  upon  the  govern- 
meut  and  nation,  and  treason  and  anarchy  assert  their  sway  over  a  republic  in  ruins. 

And  yet,  the  time  chosen  for  this  most  appalling  conspiracy  was  that  which  was 
marked  by  the  virtual  close  of  the  great  war  which  for  four  long  years  had  filled  the 
land  with  carnage  and  death ;  the  prowess  of  General  Grant  had  shattered  the  plans  of 
the  ablest  military  chieftains  of  the  south ;  General  Sherman  had  consummated  his 
grand  march  from  Atlanta  to  Savannah,  and  thence  through  South  Carolina ;  all  the 


MR.    LINCOLN'S   EARLV  HOME. 


6i8 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


chief  cities  of  the  south  were  occupied  by 
the  union  forces ;  Lee  had  surrendered 
his  sword,  and  President  Lincoln  had  just 
visited  the  city  of  Richmond,  so  recently 
the  confederate  stronghold ;  and  Jefferson 
Davis  was  a  fugitive,  who  had  then  barely 
escaped  capture.  The  demonstrations  of 
joy  at  the  now  certain  conclusion  of  hostil- 
ities, and  the  dawn  of  peace,  were  univer- 
sal ;  and  by  no  one,  in  all  the  land,  was 
this  joy  shared  so  fully  as  by  President 
Lincoln. 

Of  the  president's  happy  frame  of  mind, 
now  that  victory  had  everywhere  crowned 
the  federal  arms,  and  he  was  entering  on 


FOKD'8  THtATEK.   IX   WASHINGTON. 

his  second  presidential  term  under  the 
auspices  of  prospective  peace,  something 
may  be  judged  by  the  incidents  repre- 
sented to  have  transpired  in  connection 
with  his  private  and  personal  intercourse, 
during  the  last  day  of  his  life.  On  the 
morning  of  that  fatal  day,  Captain  Robert 
Lincoln,  son  of  the  president,  and  who  had 
just  returned  from  the  capitulation  of  Gen- 
eral Lee,  breakfasted  with  his  father,  and 
the  president  passed  a  happy  hour  listen- 
ing to  all  the  details.  While  thus  at 
breakfast,  he  heard  that  Speaker  Colfax 
was  in  the  house,  and  sent  word  that  he 
wished  to  see  him  immediately  in  the 


reception  room.  He  conversed  with  him 
nearly  an  hour,  on  his  future  policy  as  to 
the  south,  which  he  was  about  to  submit 
to  the  cabinet.  Afterwards  he  had  an 
interview  with  Mr.  Hale,  minister  to  Spain, 
and  with  several  senators  and  representa- 
tives. At  eleven  o'clock,  the  cabinet  and 
General  Grant  met  with  him,  and,  in  one 
of  the  most  important  and  satisfactory 
cabinet  sessions  held  since  his  first  inau- 
guration, the  future  policy  of  the  adminis- 
tration was  harmoniously  and  unanimously 
agreed  on,  Secretary  Stanton  remarking 
that  he  felt  that  the  government  was 
stronger  than  at  any  previous  period  since 
the  rebellion  commenced.  Turning  to 
General  Grant,  Mr.  Lincoln  asked  him  if 
he  had  heard  from  General  Sherman. 
General  Grant  replied  that  he  had  not,  but 
was  in  hourly  expectation  of  receiving  dis- 
patches from  him  announcing  the  sur- 
render of  Johnston.  The  president  re- 
plied : 

"  Well,  you  will  hear  very  soon,  and  the 
news  will  be  important." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ? "  inquired 
General  Grant,  somewhat  in  a  curious 
mood. 

"  Because,"  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  "  I  had  a 
dream,  last  night,  and,  ever  since  the  war 
began,  I  have  invariably  had  the  same 
dream  before  any  very  important  military 
event  has  occurred."  He  then  instanced 
Bull  Run,  Antietam,  Gettysburg,  etc.,  and 
said  that  before  each  of  those  events  he 
had  had  the  same  dream,  and,  turning  to 
Secretary  Welles,  continued,  "It  is  in 
your  line,  too,  Mr.  Welles.  The  dream  is, 
that  I  saw  a  ship  sailing  very  rapidly,  and 
I  am  sure  that  it  portends  some  important 
national  event." 

In  the  afternoon,  the  president  had  a 
long  and  pleasant  interview  with  General 
Oglesby,  Senator  Yates,  and  other  leading 
citizens  of  Illinois. 

At  about  half-past  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  Hon.  George  Ashmun,  of  Massa- 
chusetts, who  presided  over  the  Chicago 
Convention  in  1860,  called  at  the  White 
House,  and  was  ushered  into  the  parlor, 
where  Mr.  Colfax  was  seated,  waiting  for 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


619 


an  interview  with  the  president,  on  busi- 
ness which  had  a  bearing  on  his  proposed 
overland  trip.  A  few  moments  elapsed, 
when  President  Lincoln  entered  the  room, 
and  engaged  in  conversation  upon  various 
matters,  appearing  to  be  in  a  very  happy 
and  jovial  frame  of  mind.  He  spoke  of 
his  visit  to  Richmond,  and  when  they 
stated  that  there  was  much  uneasiness  at 
the  north  while  he  was  in  that  city,  for 
fear  that  he  might  be  shot,  he  replied, 
jocularly,  that  he  would  have  been  alarmed 
himself  if  any  other  person  had  been  pres- 
ident and  gone  there,  but  that  personally 
he  did  not  feel  any  danger  whatever. 
Conversing  on  a  matter  of  business  with 
Mr.  Ashmun,  he  made  a  remark  that  he 
saw  Mr.  Ashmun  was  surprised  at,  and, 
though  not  very  important,  he  immediately 
said,  with  his  well-known  kindness  of 
heart, — • 

"You  did  not  understand  me,  Ashmun. 
I  did  not  mean  what  you  inferred,  and  I 
take  it  all  back  and  apologize  for  it." 

Mr.  Ashmun  desiring  to  see  him  again, 
and  there  being  no  time  to  attend  to  it 
then,  the  president  took  out  a  card,  and 
placing  it  on  his  knee,  wrote  as  follows : 

"  Allow  Mr.  Ashmun  and  friend  to  come 
to  me  at  nine  A.  M.,  to-niorrow. 

April  14,  '65.  A.  Lincoln." 

These  were  the  last  words  that  he 
penned.  It  was  the  last  time  that  he 
signed  his  name  to  any  order,  document  or 
message.  The  last  words  written  by  him 
were  thus  making  an  engagement  for  the 
morrow — an  engagement  which  he  was  not 
allowed  to  meet.  Before  the  hour  had 
arrived  he  was  no  more.  After  signing 
the  card,  he  said,  humorously,  to  Mr. 
Colfax,— 

"Mr.  Sumner  has  the  gavel  of  the  Con- 
federate Congress,  which  he  got  at  Rich- 
mond, to  hand  to  the  secretary  of  war ;  but 
I  insisted  then  that  he  must  give  it  to  you, 
and  you  tell  him  for  me  to  hand  it  over." 

Mr.  Ashmun  here  pleasantly  alluded  to 
the  gavel  which  he  himself  still  had — the 
same  one  he  had  used  when  presiding  over 
the  Chicago  Nominating  Convention  of 
1860. 


President  Lincoln  finally  stated  that  he 
must  go  (o  the  theater,  and,  saying,  '•  You 
are  going  with  Mrs.  Lincoln  and  me  to  the 
theater,  I  hope,"  warmly  pressed  Speaker 
Colfax  and  Mr.  Ashmun  to  accompany 
them,  but  they  excused  themselves  on  the 
score  of  previous  engagements.  It  was 
now  half  an  hour  after  the  time  when  they 
had  intended  to  start,  and  they  spoke 
about  waiting  half  an,  hour  longer, — the 
president  going  with  reluctance,  as  Gen- 
eral Grant  had  that  evening  gone  north, 
and  Mr.  Lincoln  did  not  wish  the  people 
to  be  disappointed,  it  having  been  an- 
nounced in  the  afternoon  papers  that  the 
president,  Mrs.  Lincolnj  and  General 
Grant,  would  attend  the  theater  that  even- 
ing, to  witness  the  representation  of  the 
"  American  Cousin."  At  the  door,  Mr. 
Lincoln  stopped  and  said, — 

"  Colfax,  do  not  forget  to  tell  the  people 
in  the  mining  regions,  as  you  pass  through 
them,  what  I  told  you  this  morning  about 
the  development  when  peace  comes,  and  I 
will  telegraph  you  at  San  Francisco." 

Starting  for  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
took  the  arm  of  Mr.  Ashmun,  and  the 
president  and  Mr.  Colfax  walked  together. 
As  soon  as  the  president  and  Mrs.  Lincoln 
were  seated  in  the  carriage,  Mrs.  Lincoln 
gave  orders  to  the  coachman  to  drive 
around  to  Senator  Harris's  residence,  for 
Miss  Harris.  As  the  carriage  rolled 
away,  they  both  said  ''  Good-by, — Good- 
by,"  to  Messrs.  Ashmun  and  Colfax.  A 
few  moments  later,  and  the  presidential 
party  of  four  persons,  namely,  the  presi- 
dent and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  Miss  Harris,  and 
Major  Rathbone,  arrived  at  the  theater 
and  entered  the  front  and  left-hand  upper 
private  box. 

The  deeply-laid  plan  of  Booth  to  murder 
the  president  was  soon  to  culminate  in 
horrid  and  fatal  execution.  According  to 
the  very  reliable  account  given  by  the 
Hon.  H.  J.  Raymond,  in  his  biography  of 
the  martyred  president,  and  in  which 
account  there  is  exhibited  the  most  pains- 
taking synopsis  of  the  accumulated  evi- 
dence concerning  Booth's  movements,  the 
murderer  made  his  appearance  at  fifteen 


(J20 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


THE  ASSASSINATION   OF   PRESIDENT   LINCOLN. 

minutes  after  ten,  passed  along  the  pas- 
sage behind  the  spectators  in  the  dress- 
circle,  showed  a  card  to  the  president's 
messenger,  and  stood  for  two  or  three  min- 
utes looking  down  upon  the  stage  and  the 
orchestra  below.  He  then  entered  the 
vestibule  of  the  president's  box,  closed  the 
door  behind  him,  and  fastened  it  by  brac- 
ing a  short  plank  against  it  from  the  wall, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  opened  from  the 
outside.  He  then  drew  a  small  silver- 
mounted  Derringer  pistol,  which  he  car- 
ried in  his  right  hand,  holding  a  long 
double-edged  dagger  in  his  left.  All  in 
the  box  were  intent  on  the  proceedings 
upon  the  stage;  but  President  Lincoln 
was  leaning  forward,  holding  aside  the 
curtain  of  the  box  with  his  left  hand,  and 
looking,  with  his  head  slightly  turned, 
towards  the  audience.  Booth  stepped 
within  the  inner  door  into  the  box,  directly 
behind  the  president,  and,  holding  the 


pistol  just  over  the  back  of  the 
chair  in  which  he  sat,  shot  him 
through  the  back  of  the  head. 
Mr.  Lincoln's  head  fell  slightly  forward, 
and  his  eyes  closed,  but  in  every  other 
respect  his  attitude  remained  unchanged. 
The  report  of  the  pistol  startled  those 
in  the  box,  and  Major  Eathbone,  turn- 
ing his  eyes  from  the  stage,  saw,  through 
the  smoke  that  filled  the  box,  a  man 
standing  between  him  and  the  president. 
He  instantly  sprang  towards  him  and 
seized  him ;  but  Booth  wrested  himself 
from  his  grasp,  and,  dropping  the  pis- 
tol, struck  at  him  with  the  dagger,  in- 
flicting a  severe  wound  upon  his  left 
arm,  near  the  shoulder.  Booth  then 
rushed  to  the  front  of  the  box,  shouted 
"  Sic  semper  tyrannis  !  " — put  his  hand 
upon  the  railing  in  front  of  the  box,  and 
leaped  over  it  upon  the  stage  below.  As 
he  went  over,  his  spur  caught  in  the  flag 
which  draped  the  front,  and  he  fell;  but 
recovering  himself  immediately,  he  rose, 
brandished  the  dagger,  and  facing  the 
audience,  shouted,  "  The  South  is 
avenged!"  He  then  rushed  across  the 
stage  towards  the  passage  which  led  to  the 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PEESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


621 


stage  door  in  the  rear  of  the  theater.  An 
actor  named  Hawke  was  the  only  person 
on  the  stage  when  Booth  leaped  upon  it, 
and  seeing  Bootli  coining  towards  him 
with  the  dagger  ill  his  hand,  he  ran  off  the 
stage  and  up  a  flight  of  stairs.  Booth  ran 
through  the  passage-way  beside  the  scenes, 
meeting  one  or  two  persons  only,  whom  he 
struck  from  his  path,  went  out  at  the  door 
which  stood  open,  and  which  he  closed 
behind  him,  and  mounting,  a  horse  which 
he  had  brought  there,  and  which  a  lad  was 
holding  for  him,  he  rode  over  the  Anacosta 
bridge,  across  the  east  branch  of  the  Poto- 
mac, safely  escaping  to  Lower  Maryland. 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  scene 
which  transpired  in  that  box  and  in  that 
vast  audience,  on  the  discovery  that  the 
president  was  shot.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that 
the  surgeon-general  and  other  physicians 
were  immediately  summoned,  and  their 
skill  exhausted  in  efforts  to  restore  him  to 
consciousness.  An  examination  of  his 
wounds,  however,  showed  that  no  hopes 
could  be  given  that  his  life  would  be 
spared. 

Preparations  were  at  once  made  to  re- 
move him,  and  lie  was  conveyed  to  a  house 
immediately  opposite,  and  there  placed 
upon  a  bed,  the  only  evidence  of  life  being 


HOUSE  WHERE   LISCOLS  DIED. 

an  occasional  nervous  twitching  of  the 
hand  and  heavy  breathing.  At  about  half- 
past  eleven,  the  motion  of  the  muscles  of 
his  face  indicated  as  if  he  were  trying  to 
speak,  but  doubtless  it  was  merely  muscu- 
lar. His  eyes  protruded  from  their  sock- 
ets and  were  suffused  with  blood. 


At  his  bedside  were  the  secretaries  of 
war,  the  navy  and  the  interior ;  the  post- 
master-general and  attorney-general ;  Sen- 
ator Simmer;  General  Todd,  cousin  to 
Mrs.  Lincoln ;  Major  Hay,  Mr.  M.  B. 
Field,  General  Halleck,  General  Meigs, 
Rev.  Doctor  Gurley,  the  physicians,  and  a 
few  other  persons.  All  were  bathed  in 
tears;  and  Secretary  Stanton,  when  in- 
formed by  Surgeon-General  Barnes,  that 
the  president  could  not  live  until  morning, 
exclaimed,  "Oh,  no,  General;  no— no;" 
and  with  an  impulse,  natural  as  it  was 
unaffected,  immediately  sat  down  and 
wept  like  a  child.  Senator  Sumner  was 
seated  at  the  right  of  the  president,  near 
the  head,  holding  the  right  hand  of  the 
president  in  his  own  ;  he  was  sobbing  like 
a  woman,  with  his  head  bowed  down 
almost  upon  the  pillow  of  the  bed.  In  an 
adjoining  room  were  Mrs.  Lincoln,  and 
several  others. 

Mrs.  Lincoln  was  in  a  state  of  great 
excitement  and  agony,  wringing  her  hands 
and  exclaiming,  "  Why  did  he  not  shoot 
me,  instead  of  my  husband  !  I  have  tried 
to  be  so  careful  of  him,  fearing  something 
would  happen,  and  his  life  seemed  to  be 
more  precious  now  than  ever.  I  must  go 
with  him  ! " — and  other  expressions  of  like 
character.  She  was  constantly  going  to 
and  from  the  bedside  of  the  president,  say- 
ing in  utter  grief,  "How  can  it  be  so!" 
The  scene  was  heart-rending.  Captain 
Robert  Lincoln  bore  himself  with  great 
firmness,  and  constantly  endeavored  to 
assuage  the  grief  of  his  mother  by  telling 
her  to  put  her  trust  in  God  and  all  would 
be  well.  Occasionally,  however,  being 
entirely  overcome,  he  would  retire  by  him- 
self and  give  vent  to  most  piteous  lamen- 
tations. 

At  four  o'clock,  the  symptoms  of  restless- 
ness returned,  and  at  six  the  premonitions 
of  dissolution  set  in.  His  face,  which  had 
been  quite  pale,  began  to  assume  a  waxen 
transparency,  the-j^iw  slowly  fell,  and  the 
teeth  became  exposed.  About  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  before  the  president  died,  his 
breathing  became  very  difficult,  and  in 
many  instances  seemed  to  have  entirely 


622 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


ceased.  He  would  again  rally  and  breathe 
with  so  great  difficulty  as  to  be  heard  in 
almost  every  part  of  the  house.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  took  her  last  leave  of  him  about 
twenty  minutes  before  he  expired,  and  was 
sitting  in  the  adjoining  room  when  it  was 
announced  to  her  that  he  was  dead. 
When  this  announcement  was  made,  she 
exclaimed,  "  Oh  !  why  did  you  not  tell  me 
that  he  was  dying  !  " 

The  surgeons  and  the  members  of  the 
cabinet,  Senator  Sumner,  Captain  Eobert 
Lincoln,  General  Todd,  Mr.  Field,  and 
one  or  two  more,  were  standing  at  his 
bed-side  when  he  breathed  his  last.  Rob- 


ert  Lincoln  was  resting  himself  tenderly 
upon  the  arm  of  Senator  Sumner,  the 
mutual  embrace  of  the  two  having  all  the 
affectionateness  of  father  and  son.  The 
surgeons  were  sitting  upon  the  side  and 
foot  of  the  bed,  holding  the  president's 
hands,  and  with  their  watches  observing 
the  slow  declension  of  the  pulse,  and 
•watching  the  ebbing  out  of  the  vital  spirit. 

He  lingered  longer  than  was  expected  ; 
until,  at  twenty-two  minutes  past  seven 
o'clock,  in  the  morning,  April  fifteenth, 
the  physician  said,  with  solemn  accent  and 
overpowering  emotion, — 

"  He  is  gone  ;  he  is  dead." 

Such  was  the  deep  stillness,  in  that 
awful  presence,  at  the  fatal  announcement, 


that  for  the  space  of  five  minutes  the  tick- 
ing of  the  watches  could  be  distinctly 
heard.  All  stood  transfixed  in  their  posi- 
tions, speechless,  breathless,  around  the 
dead  body  of  that  great  and  good  man. 
At  length  the  secretary  of  war  broke  the 
silence  and  said  to  Rev.  Doctor  Gurley, 
"  Doctor,  will  you  say  anything  ?  "  He 
replied,  "  I  will  speak  to  God."  "  Do  it 
just  now,"  responded  the  secretary.  And 
:  there,  by  the  side  of  the  fallen  chief,  a  fer- 
vent prayer  was  offered  up,  at  the  close  of 
which  there  arose  from  the  lips  of  the 
entire  company  a  fervid  and  spontaneous 
"  Amen." 

No  adequate  portrayal  can  be 
given   of    the   effect   upon   the 
public  mind,  of  the  murder  of 
the  president,  as  the  news  was 
borne    along    the     telegraphic 
wires,  from  one  end  of  the  land 
to  the  other.     Stunned,  bewil- 
dered, incredulous,  at  first,  the 
tears   and  wailing   of   a  whole 
nation   were    soon    manifest  — 
deep  answering  unto  deep — to 
an  extent  and  degree  never  be- 
fore witnessed  since  the  death 
of  Washington.    A  pang  of  hor- 
ror seized  every  heart,  in  this 
darkest  hour  of   the   country's 
history,  the  emblems  of  mourn- 
ing shrouded  the  land  in  very 
darkness — its  streets,  its  habita- 
tions, its  churches,  its  halls  of  justice,  its 
capitols,  —  funeral    pageants    everywhere 
hushed  the  noise  of  business, —  and  the 
solemn  voice  of  eulogy  and  lamentation, 
and  the  sound  of  dirge  and  requiem,  filled 
the  air,  from  the  mountains  of  the  north 
to  the  prairies  and  valleys  of  the  west  and 
the  golden  slopes  of  the  far-off  Pacific. 

If,  in  the  blind  and  fatal  mistake  of 
sectional  antagonism  or  partisan  bitterness, 
this  most  infamous  of  human  crimes  found 
apologists,  there  were,  at  least,  some  nota- 
ble exceptions  to  this  feeling.  Thus, 
when  the  tidings  reached  Richmond,  Gen- 
eral Lee  at  first  refused  to  hear  the  details 
of  the  horrid  deed,  from  the  two  gentlemen 
who  waited  unon  him  on  Sunday  night 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PEESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


623 


with  the  particulars.  He  said,  that  when 
he  dispossessed  himself  of  the  command  of 
the  confederate  forces,  he  kept  in  view  Pres- 
ident Lincoln's  benignity,  and  surrendered 
as  much  to  the  latter's  goodness  as  to 
Grant's  artillery.  The  general  said  that 
he  regretted  Mr.  Lincoln's  death  as  much 
as  any  man  in  the  north,  and  believed  him 
to  be  the  epitome  of  magnanimity  and  good 
faith. 

On  the  nineteenth  of  April,  the  New 
World  witnessed  the  most  imposing  fu- 
neral ceremonies  that  ever  took  place  this 
side  of  the  Atlantic,  or  perhaps  in  the 
whole  world.  The  body,  which  had  been 
embalmed,  lay  in  state  in  the  Green  Room 
of  the  White  House,  the  coffin  resting 
upon  a  magnificent  catafalque,  and  the 


The  description  given  by  Holland,  of 
the  procession  in  the  federal  metropolis, 
will  apply,  in  its  main  features,  to  all  the 
corteges  in  the  various  cities  through 
which  the  honored  remains  passed.  "Ev- 
ery piazza,  window,  verandah  and  house- 
top, was  filled  with  eager  but  mournful 
faces.  Funereal  music  filled  the  sweet 
spring  air ;  and  this  was  the  only  sound, 
except  the  measured  tread  of  feet,  and  the 
slow  roll  of  wheels  upon  the  pavement. 
As  the  hearse,  drawn  by  six  gray  horses, 
reached  the  capitol  grounds,  the  bands 
burst  forth  in  a  requiem,  and  were  an- 
swered by  minute-guns  from  the  fortifica- 
tions. The  body  of  the  president  was 
borne  into  the  rotunda,  where  Doctor  Gur- 
ley  completed  the  religious  exercises  of  the 


USCOLX'8  RI 


grand  room  overflowing  with  flowers  which 
had  poured  in  from  innumerable  sources. 
The  public  exercises  took  place  in  the  East 
Boom,  being  conducted  by  Rev.  Drs.  Hall, 
Gurley,  and  Gray,  and  Bishop  Simpson. 
The  throng  of  dignitaries,  embracing  rep- 
resentatives of  the  army  and  navy,  sena- 
tors and  members  of  congress,  judges,  for- 
eign ambassadors,  governors  of  the  states, 
and  other  high  officials,  was  such  as  had 
never  before  been  gathered  together  in  the 
executive  mansion.  From  the  latter  place, 
the  body  of  the  illustrious  deceased  was 
conveyed,  along  Pennsylvania  Avenue,  to 
the  great  rotunda  of  the  nation's  capitol, 
thence  to  be  carried  to  their  last  resting- 
place  in  Oak  Ridge  cemetery,  Springfield, 
III. 


occasion.  Here  the  remains  rested,  ex- 
posed to  public  view,  but  guarded  by  sol- 
diery, until  the  next  day.  Thousands 
who  had  no  other  opportunity  to  take  their 
farewell  of  the  beloved  dust  thronged  the 
capitol  all  night.  The  procession  which 
moved  from  the  White  House,  April  19th, 
was  but  the  beginning  of  a  pageant  that 
displayed  its  marvelous  numbers  and  its 
ever-varying  forms,  through  country,  and 
village,  and  city,  winding  across  the  terri- 
tories of  vast  states,  along  a  track  of  more 
than  fifteen  hundred  miles."  During  this 
period,  millions  gazed  upon  the  loved 
features  of  the  departed  president. 

It  was  on  the  twenty-first  of  April,  that 
the  remains  were  started  upon  their  mourn- 
ful journey  to  Springfield,  111.  They  were 


024 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PEESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


taken  to  that  city  by  the  route  he  pursued 
while  on  his  way  from  his  western  home  to 
be  inaugurated  in  Washington.  Balti- 
more, Harrisburg,  Philadelphia,  New  York, 
Albany,  Buffalo,  Cleveland,  Columbus,  In- 
dianapolis, and  Chicago,  were  visited  in 
the  order  named,  and  at  each  place,  as 
well  as  all  along  the  route,  there  were 
most  extraordinary  demonstrations  of  re- 
spect and  sorrow.  Millions  of  people 
manifested,  by  every  possible  means  and 
token,  their  deep  sense  of  the  public  loss, 
and  their  appreciation  of  the  exalted  vir- 
tues which  adorned  the  life  of  Abraham 
Lincoln.  All  classes,  without  distinction 
of  politics  or  creeds,  spontaneously  united 
in  the  posthumous  honors. 

The  funeral  at  Springfield  was  on  a 
beautiful  May  day.  At  noon,  the  remains 
were  brought  from  the  state  house,  in  the 
same  hearse  which  had  borne  the  bodies 


SERGEJLXT  BOSTON  COBBETT. 

»f  General  Lyon  and  Thomas  H.  Benton. 
The  hearse  was  surmounted  by  a  crown  of 
flowers.  From  the  portico,  as  the  proces- 
sion advanced,  a  vast  chorus  of  voices  filled 
the  air  with  the  strains  of  "Children  of 
the  Heavenly  King "  The  ceremonies 
were  under  the  immediate  direction  of 
General  Hooker.  A  dirge  was  sung  ;  and 
after  the  reading  of  scripture,  a  prayer, 
and  a  hymn,  the  president's  second  inau- 
gural address  was  read.  A  dirge  suc- 
ceeded, after  which  Bishop  Simpson  de- 
livered the  funeral  oration  before  the  great 
audience  there  assembled,  and  from  the 
midst  of  which  went  forth  many  an  ejacu- 
lation of  uncontrollable  sorrow. 


AND  THE  ILLUSTRIOUS  AND  BELOVED 
PRESIDENT,  SO  RECENTLY  THE  MOST  EX- 
ALTED OF  MORTAL  RULERS,  WAS  BURIED 
IN  HIS  OWN  TOMB. 

But  before  the  noble  departed  had  been 
consigned,  amidst  the  tears  and  lamenta- 
tions of  a  whole  continent,  to  the  earth's 
bosom,  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  perpetra- 
tor of  the  greatest  of  modern  crimes,  had 
met  his  doom,  and  most  of  his  co-conspira- 
tors— Atzerodt,  Doctor  Mudd,  Payne,  Har- 
old, Mrs.  Surratt,  O'Laughlin,  Arnold,  and 
Spangler — were  in  the  clutches  of  the  law. 
It  was  Payne,  who,  at  the  same  time  that 
Booth's  bullet  sped  its  fatal  course,  en- 
acted his  part  of  the  conspiracy  in  which 
Booth  was  chief,  by  entering  the  sick 
chamber  of  Secretary  Seward,  stabbing 
him  in  the  throat,  and  then  escaping.  It 
was  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  house  that  the  con- 
spirators hr.d  met  and  laid  their  plans. 
As  alleged,  Atzerodt  was  to  have  taken  the 
life  of  Vice-President  Johnson.  O'Laugh- 
lin was  assigned  to  murder  General  Grant 
or  Secretary  Stanton.  Harold  was  the 
body  companion  of  Booth.  Spangler  as- 
sisted in  Booth's  escape  from  the  theater. 
Mudd  had  held  interviews  with  Booth  and 
John  H.  Surratt,  son  of  Mrs.  Surratt 
named  above,  and  had  also  attended  to 
Booth's  leg,  crippled  by  his  getting  entan- 
gled with  the  flag  that  decorated  the  presi- 
dent's box.  Arnold  was  originally  in  the 
plot,  but  quarreled,  and  left  it.  Booth  was 
but  twenty-seven  years  old  at  the  time  of 
his  crime,  by  profession  an  actor,  long 
known  for  his  dissipated  habits,  and  for  his 
ardent  devotion  to  the  southern  cause. 
He  was  born  in  Harford  county,  Md.,  his 
father  being  the  once  celebrated  actor, 
Junius  Brutus  Booth,  and  his  brother 
being  Edwin  Booth,  also  famous  on  the 
stage. 

Immediately  after  the  murder,  Colonel 
Baker,  of  the  detective  service,  set  out  to 
find  Booth's  hiding-place.  He  soon  sue. 
ceeded  in  capturing  Atzerodt  and  Mudd. 
A  negro  was  then  arrested,  who  said  he 
had  seen  Booth  and  another  man  cross  the 
Potomac  in  a  fishing  boat.  Colonel  Baker 
sent  to  General  Hancock  for  twenty-fire 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


mounted  men  to  aid  him  in  the  pursuit. 
These  were  sent  under  Lieutenant  Dough- 
erty, and  Baker  placed  them  under  the 
control  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Conger,  and 
of  his  cousin,  Lieutenant  L.  B.  Baker,  and 
dispatched  them  to  Belle  Plain,  with 
orders  to  scour  the  country  about  Port 
Royal. 

At  Port  Eoyal  they  found  one  Kollins, 
a  fisherman,  who  referred  them  to  a  negro 
named  Lucas  as  having  driven  two  men  a 
short  distance  toward  Bowling  Green,  in  a 
wagon.  These  men  perfectly  answered 
the  description  of  Booth  and  Harcld. 
Some  disbanded  men,  it  was  learned,  be- 
longing to  Mosby's  command,  took  Booth 
under  their  protection  on  the  way  to 
Bowling  Green,  a  small  court-house  town 
in  Caroline  county.  To  that  place,  Baker 
and  his  party  immediately  proceeded,  and 
there  found  the  captain  of  the  confederate 
cavalry,  from  whom  they  extorted  a  state- 
ment of  Booth's  whereabouts  ;  this  was  at 
the  house  of  a  Mr.  Garrett,  which  they  had 
already  passed. 

Eeturning  with  the  captain  for  a  guide, 
the  worn-out  command  halted  at  Garrett's 
gate,  at  two  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
April  26th.  Without  noise,  the  house 
was  surrounded,  and  Baker  went  up  to 
the  kitchen  door  at  the  side,  and  rapped. 
An  old  man  in  half  undress  undrew  the 
bolts,  and  had  scarcely  opened  the  door 
before  Baker  had  him  by  the  throat  with 
a  pistol  at  his  ear,  and  asked,  "  Where  are 
the  men  who  stay  with  you  ? "  Under 
the  menace  of  instant  death,  the  old  man 
seemed  paralyzed,  but  at  Baker's  order  lit 
a  candle.  The  question  was  then  repeated. 
"Thty  are  gone,"  replied  the  old  man. 
Soon  a.  young  boy  appeared,  and  told 
Baker  the  men  he  sought  were  in  the 
barn.  The  barn  was  then  surrounded. 
Baker  and  Conger  went  to  the  door.  The 
former  called  out,  signifying  his  intention 
to  have  a  surrender  on  the  part  of  the  men 
inside,  or  else  to  fire  the  barn,  and  shoot 
them  on  the  spot.  The  young  boy  was 
sent  in  to  receive  their  arms.  To  the 
boy's  message  Booth  answered  with  a 
curse,  accusing  the  boy  of  having  betrayed 

40 


him.  The  boy  then  came  out,  and  Baker 
repeated  his  demand,  giving  Booth  five 
minutes  to  make  up  his  mind.  Booth 
replied — 

"  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want 
with  us  ?  " 

"  We  want  you  to  deliver  up  your  arms 
and  become  our  prisoners,"  said  Baker. 

"  But  who  are  you  ?  " 

"  That  makes  no  difference.  We  know 
who  you  are,  and  we  want  you.  We  have 
here  fifty  men  with  carbines  and  pistols. 
You  cannot  escape." 

"  Captain,"  said  Booth,  after  a  pause, 
"  this  is  a  hard  case,  I  swear.  Perhaps  I 
am  being  taken  by  my  own  friends." 

He  then  asked  time  to  consider,  which 
was  granted.  After  a  little  interval, 
Baker  threatened  to  fire  the  barn,  if  they 
did  not  come  out.  Booth  replied  that  he 
was  a  cripple,  and  begged  a  chance  for  his 
life,  declaring  that  he  would  fight  them 
all  at  so  many  yards  apace,  and  that  he 
would  never  be  taken  alive.  Baker  an- 
swered that  he  did  not  come  there  to  fight 
but  to  capture  him,  and  again  threatened 
to  fire  the  barn. 

"Well,  then,  my  brave  toys,"  said 
Booth,  "  prepare  a  stretcher  for  me." 

Harold  now  wanted  to  surrender,  and, 
in  the  midst  of  a  shower  of  imprecations 
from  Booth,  did  so.  Conger  then  set  fire 
to  the  barn. 

The  blaze  lit  up  the  black  recesses  of 
the  great  barn  till  every  wasp's  nest  and 
every  cobweb  in  the  roof  was  visible,  fling- 
ing streaks  of  red  and  violet  across  the 
tumbled  farm-gear  in  the  corner,  and  bath- 
ing the  murderer's  retreat  in  a  vivid  illu- 
mination,— and,  while  in  bold  outline  his 
figure  stood  revealed,  they  rose  like  an 
impenetrable  wall  to  guard  from  sight  the 
dreadful  enemy  who  lit  them.  Behind  the 
blaze,  with  his  eye  to  a  crack,  Conger  saw 
Wilkes  Booth  standing  upright  upon  a 
crutch.  At  the  gleam  of  fire,  Booth 
dropped  his  crutch  and  carbine,  and  on 
both  hands  crept  up  to  the  spot  to  espy 
the  incendiary  and  shoot  him  dead.  His 
eyes  were  lustrous  as  with  fever,  and 
swelled  and  rolled  in  terrible  anxiety, 


626 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


while  his  teeth  were  fixed,  and  he  wore 
the  expression  of  one  in  the  calmness  pre- 
ceding frenzy.  In  vain  he  peered,  with 
vengeance  in  his  look ;  the  blaze  that 
made  him  visible  concealed  his  pursuers. 
A  second  he  turned  glaring  at  the  fire,  as 
if  to  leap  upon  and  extinguish  it,  but  the 
flames  had  made  such  headway  that  this 
was  a  futile  impulse,  and  he  dismissed  it. 
Aa  calmly  as  upon  the  battle-field  a  vet- 


bett  fired  through  a  crevice  and  shot  Booth 
in  the  neck. 

They  then  took  up  the  wounded  man 
and  carried  him  out  on  the  grass,  a  little 
way  from  the  door,  beneath  a  locust  tree. 
Conger  went  back  to  the  barn,  to  see  if 
the  fire  could  be  put  out,  but  found  it 
could  not,  and  returned  to  where  Booth 
was  lying.  Before  this  (sa/s  Lieutenant 
Conger,  in  his  official  account),  I  supposed 


BURIAL  PLACE  OP  LINCOLN. 


eran  stands  amidst  the  hail  of  ball  and 
shell  and  plunging  iron,  Booth  turned  at 
a  man's  stride  and  pushed  for  the  door, 
weapon  in  poise,  and  the  last  resolve  of 
death — despair — set  on  his  high,  bloodless 
forehead. 

At  this  instant,  Sergeant  Boston  Cor- 


him  to  be  dead  ;  he  had  all  the  appearance 
of  a  dead  man  ;  but  when  I  came  back,  his 
eyes  and  mouth  were  moving.  I  called 
immediately  for  water,  and  put  some  on 
his  face.  He  seemed  to  revive,  and  at- 
tempted to  speak.  I  put  my  ear  down  to 
his  mouth,  and  heard  him  say,  "Tell  my 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


627 


mother  I  died  for  my  country."  I  re- 
peated the  words  to  him,  and  said,  "Is 
that  what  you  would  say  ? "  He  said 
"  Yes."  They  carried  him  to  the  porch  of 
Qarrett's  house,  and  laid  him  on  a  straw 
bed  or  tick.  At  that  time  he  revived  con- 
siderably, and  could  talk  in  a  whisper,  so 
as  to  be  intelligibly  understood.  He  could 
not  speak  above  a  whisper.  He  wanted 
water;  I  gave  it  to  him.  He  wanted  to 
turn  on  his  face ;  I  said  he  couldn't  lie  in 
that  position.  He  wanted  to  be  turned  on 
his  side  ;  we  turned  him  on  his  side  three 
times,  but  he  could  not  lie  with  any  com- 
fort, and  asked  immediately  to  be  turned 
back.  He  asked  me  to  put  my  hand  on 
his  throat,  and  press  down,  which  I  did. 
He  said  "  Harder ;  "  I  pressed  as  hard  as 
I  thought  necessary.  He  made  a  very 
strong  exertion  to  cough,  but  was  unable 
to  do  so.  I  suppose  he  thought  there  was 
blood  in  his  throat.  I  asked  him  to  put 
out  his  tongue,  which  he  did.  I  said, 
"There  is  no  blood  in  your  throat."  He 
repeated  several  times,  "  Kill  me !  kill 
me  ! "  I  replied,  "  I  do  not  want  to  kill 
you.  I  want  you  to  get  well." 

When  the  doctor  arrived,  whom  Conger 
had  sent  for,  Booth  asked  to  have  his 
hands  raised  and  shown  him.  When  this 
was  done,  he  muttered  "  Useless,  useless ! " 
These  were  his  last  words.  He  died  about 
four  hours  after  being  shot. 

The  solemn  trial  of  the  other  accom- 
plices in  this  great  crime  of  conspiracy 
and  murder,  soon  took  place  in  the  city  of 
Washington,  before  a  military  commission 
consisting  of  Generals  Hunter,  Howe, 
Harris,  Wallace,  Kautz,  Foster,  Ekin ; 
Colonels  Clendenin,  Tompkins,  and  Bur- 
nett; Judges  Bingham  and  Holt.  The 
last  named  held  the  position  of  Judge- 
Advocate-General  of  the  court,  and  Major- 
General  Hunter  officiated  as  president. 

The  charges  upon  which  Payne  was 
arrested  and  tried  were,  that  he  was  a 
confederate  of  Booth  in  the  general  con- 
spiracy to  kill  the  president,  vice-president, 
General  Grant,  and  Secretary  Seward,  so 
as  thus  to  deprive  the  army  and  navy  of  a 
constitutional  commander-in-chief,  and  to 


prevent  a  lawful  election  of  president  and 
vice-president  by  the  vacancy  thus  made 
in  the  office  of  secretary  of  state, — the  duty 
of  the  latter  officer  being,  in  case  of  the 
death  of  the  president  and  vice-president, 
to  cause  an  election  to  be  held  for  presi- 
dential electors.  The  arraignment  of  all 
the  parties  was  upon  this  general  charge, 
with  specifications  in  each  case. 

Against  Payne,  the  specification  was 
that  of  attempting  to  kill  Secretary  Sew- 
ard. Presenting  himself  at  the  door  of 
Mr.  Seward's  residence,  he  gained  admis- 
sion by  representing  that  he  had  a  pre- 
scription from  Mr.  Seward's  physician, 
which  he  was  directed  to  see  administered, 
and  hurried  up  to  the  third-story  chamber, 
where  Mr.  Seward  was  lying  sick.  He 
here  discovered  Mr.  Frederick  Seward, 
struck  him  over  the  head,  inflicting  severe 
wounds,  and  then  rushed  into  the  room 
where  Mr.  Seward  was  in  bed,  attended  by 
a  young  daughter  and  a  male  nurse.  The 
assassin  stabbed  the  latter  in  the  lungs, 
and  then  struck  Secretary  Seward  with  a 
dagger  twice  in  the  face  and  twice  in  the 
throat,  inflicting  terrible  wounds.  By  this 
time  Major  Seward,  eldest  son  of  the  sec- 
retary, and  another  attendant,  reached  the 
room,  and  rushed  to  the  rescue  of  the  sec- 
retary ;  they  were  also  wounded  in  the 
conflict,  and  the  assassin  escaped. 

Spangler,  who  was  employed  at  the  the- 
ater, was  tried  for  aiding  and  assisting 
Booth  to  obtain  an  entrance  to  the  box  in 
which  President  Lincoln  sat  in  the  thea- 
ter, and  for  barring  or  obstructing  the 
door  of  the  passage-way,  so  as  to  hinder 
pursuit. 

Atzerodt  was  charged  with  lying  in  wait 
to  murder  Vice-President  Johnson,  at  the 
Kirkwood  House,  where  the  latter  was 
stopping.  He  took  a  room  at  that  house, 
on  the  morning  of  April  14th,  and  was 
there  at  different  times  during  the  day  and 
evening,  under  suspicious  circumstances. 
Though  in  active  co-operation  with  Booth 
and  his  accomplices,  he  failed  in  executing 
the  part  particularly  delegated  to  him. 

In  the  further  programme  of  the  great 
conspiracy,  O'Laughlin  was  to  take  the 


628 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PKESIDENT  LINCOLN. 


life  of  General  Grant,  and  on  this  charge 
and  specification  he  was  indicted  and  tried, 
though  he  failed,  like  Atzerodt,  to  accom- 
plish the  bloody  deed. 

Mrs.  Surratt  was  charged  with  having 
"on  or  before  the  sixth  day  of  March, 
1865,  and  on  divers  other  days  and  times 
between  that  day  and  the  twentieth  of 
April,  1865,  received,  entertained,  har- 
bored and  concealed,  aided  and  assisted " 
the  conspirators  in  the  execution  of  their 
plans.  She  was  charged  with  being  cog- 
nizant of  the  intended  crime  almost  from 
its  inception,  becoming  an  active  partici- 
pant and  general  manager.  With  Doctor 
Mudd,  it  was  charged,  she  planned  the 
means  and  assistance  for  the  escape  of  the 
assassins,  and  visited  Mudd  at  five  o'clock 
on  the  day  of  the  assassination,  to  see  that 
certain  weapons  were  in  readiness.  Booth 
had  frequent  interviews  at  her  house, 
and  was  with  her  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
fourteenth. 

The  part  taken  by  Doctoi  Mudd,  in  the 
tragedy,  was  described  in  the  indictment 
as  that  of  an  accomplice.  He  was,  it  ap- 
peared, in  the  confidence  of  Booth  several 
months  prior  to  the  assassination.  In 
January,  he  had  an  interview  with  John 
H.  Surratt  and  Booth,  at  the  National 
Hotel.  He  introduced  Booth  to  Surratt, 
and  was  visited  by  Booth  at  the  Pennsyl- 
vania House.  When  the  assassins  fled  to 
his  house,  he  dressed  Booth's  wound  and 
assisted  in  the  escape  of  both  Booth  and 
Harold.  When  the  officers  called  at  his 


house,  soon  after  the  assassination,  he 
denied  that  he  knew  either  of  the  crimin- 
als, but  subsequently,  after  his  arrest,  he 
admitted  the  fact  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Booth ;  both  of  the  fugitives  were  well 
cared  for  by  him  at  his  house. 

Arnold  was  tried  for  being  one  of  the 
original  conspirators,  but  it  was  not 
charged  that  he  maintained  any  active 
relation  to  the  plot  at  the  time  appointed 
for  its  execution.  His  guilt  consisted  in 
being  an  accomplice  before  the  act. 

Harold's  complicity  admitted,  of  course, 
of  no  doubt.  On  the  night  of  the  assas- 
sination he  was  seen  at  the  livery  stable 
with  Booth,  and  on  various  occasions  he 
was  known  to  have  held  secret  meetings 
with  Booth,  Atzerodt,  and  others  of  the 
conspiracy,  at  Mrs.  Surratt's  and  else- 
where. During  his  flight  with  Booth,  he 
acknowledged  to  confederate  soldiers  that 
he  and  Booth  had  made  way  with  the 
president. 

Atzerodt,  Harold,  Payne,  and  Mrs.  Sur- 
ratt, were  found  guilty  of  crimes  deserving 
death,  and  were  hanged  therefor  on  the 
seventh  of  July,  1865.  Arnold,  O'Laugh- 
lin,  and  Mudd,  were  sent  to  the  Dry  Tor- 
tugas  for  hard  labor  during  life ;  and 
Spangler  for  six  years  of  hard  labor,  at  the 
same  place.  John  H.  Surratt,  son  of  Mrs. 
Surratt  above  named,  and  who  was  also 
indicted,  fled  to  Europe  ;  being  discovered, 
he  was  arrested  and  sent  to  Washington, 
but,  after  a  protracted  trial  by  jury,  es- 
caped conviction. 


LXXV. 

SUCCESSFUL  LAYING  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH  CABLE 
ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  OCEAN.— 1866. 


The  Old  World  and  the  New  United  by  Instantaneous  Communication. — Pronounced  the  Grandest  of 
Human  Enterprises — Ten  Years  of  Difficulty  and  Failure  in  the  Mighty  Task — The  Name  of  Itg 
Indomitable  Projector  Crowned  with  Immortal  Honor. — Illustrations  of  the  Power  and  Wonders  of 
this  New-Born  Agent  of  Civilization. — Ocean  Telegraphs  Early  Predicted — First  Attempt  in  1857. — 
Breaking  of  the  Wire — Fresh  but  Abortive  Trials  in  '68  and  '65. — Great  Preparations  for  1866. — 
Exquisite  Construction  of  the  Cable  — A  Wealthy  and  Powerful  Company. — Cyrus  W.  Field,  Its  Mas- 
ter Spirit.— Employment  of  the  Great  Eastern.— Laying  the  Shore  End  at  Valentia. — Rejoicing  of  the 
Inhabitants  — Voyage  of  the  Fleet  to  America. — Incidents  and  Accidents. — Intense  Solicitude,  Day 
and  Night— A  Joyous  Morning!  July  27th. — Perfect  Success  from  End  to  End. — First  News  Dispatch, 
Peace  in  Europe. — Messages  Between  the  President  and  Queen. — Compliments  to  Mr.  Field. — His 
Interview  with  Lord  Clarendon. — John  Bright's  Sparkling  Tribute. — Moral  Uses  of  the  Cable. 


"  BEAST'S  CONTEST,  July  27m.    We  tnrred  here  it  nine  o'clock,  this  morning.    AllwelL    Th«nk  God,  the  cable  IB  laid,  and  la  In  perfect 
working  order.— CTBUS  W.  FIELD." 


f  NNECESS  ARY  would  be  the  task  of  detailing,  in  this 
place, — additional  to  those  pages  already  devoted  to  Pro- 
fessor Morse's  grand  discovery,  and  its  practical  appli- 
cation the  world  wide, — the  technical  principles  and 
operations  involved  in  the  science  of  telegraphic  com- 
munication. 

It  was  early  declared  by  Professor  Morse,  and  by  other 
i  CABLE,  distinguished  investigators  of  the  nature  and  powers  of 
the  electric  current,  that  neither  the  ocean  itself,  nor  the  distance  to  be  traversed,  pre- 
sented any  insuperable  obstacle  to  the  laying  of  submerged  oceanic  lines  from  conti- 
nent to  continent,  and  the  confident  prophecy  that  such  lines  would  eventually  be 
undertaken  was  freely  uttered  and  discussed  in  learned  circles. 

It  was  not,  however,  until  the  year  1857,  that  an  attempt  was  made  to  stretch  a  tele- 
graphic wire  across  the  bed  of  the  Atlantic.  The  cable  was  coiled  half  on  board  the 
United  States  steamship  Niagara,  and  half  on  the  British  steamer  Agamemnon.  They 
began  to  lay  it  in  mid-ocean  on  the  26th  of  June,  the  Niagara  proceeding  toward  the 
American  coast,  the  Agamemnon  toward  Ireland.  After  the  wire  had  three  times 
broken,  the  attempt  was  given  up.  The  following  August  it  was  renewed  on  a  different 
plan.  The  shore-end  was  made  fast  at  Valentia  Bay,  and  the  Niagara  began  paying 
out  on  the  seventh,  the  arrangement  being  that  the  Agamemnon  should  begin  opera- 
tions  when  the  Niagara  had  exhausted  her  half  of  the  cable.  On  the  eleventh,  after 
three  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  had  been  laid,  the  wire  broke  again.  The  third 
attempt  was  made  with  the  same  vessels  in  1858.  The  ends  of  the  cable  were  joined 


630 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


in  mid-ocean,  July  29th,  and,  August  6th, 
the  two  vessels  arrived  simultaneously  at 
their  respective  destinations.  This  cable 
worked  for  a  time,  but  the  electric  current 
grew  weak  and  finally  failed  altogether. 

But  these  repeated  failures,  though  a 
severe  disappointment  to  those  engaged  in 
the  great  and  costly  enterprise,  did  not 
destroy  their  faith  in  its  feasibility,  and 
the  mighty  task  was  begun  anew,  advan- 
tage being  taken  of  whatever  instruction 
past  experience  could  furnish  or  suggest. 

Especial  care  had,  it  is  true,  been  exer- 
cised in  the  previous  undertaking,  to  have 
the  construction  of  the  cable  itself  as  per- 
fect as  possible.  It  was  the  result  of 
many  months'  thought,  experiment,  and 
trial.  Hundreds  of  specimens  were  made, 
comprising  every  variety  of  form,  size,  and 
structure,  and  most  severely  tested  as  to 
their  powers  and  capabilities ;  and  the 
result  was  the  adoption  of  one  which,  it 
was  believed,  possessed  all  the  properties 
required,  in  a  far  higher  degree  than  any 
cable  that  had  yet  been  laid.  Its  flexibil- 
ity was  such  as  to  make  it  as  manageable 
as  a  small  line,  and  its  strength  such  that 
it  would  bear,  in  water,  over  six  miles  of 
its  own  weight  suspended  vertically.  The 
conducting  medium  consisted  not  of  one 
single  straight  copper  wire,  but  of  seven 
wires  of  copper  of  the  best  quality,  twisted 
round  each  other  spirally,  and  capable  of 
undergoing  great  tension  without  injury. 
This  conductor  was  then  enveloped  in 
three  separate  coverings  of  gutta  percha, 
of  the  best  quality,  forming  the  core  of 
the  cable,  round  which  tarred  hemp  was 
wrapped,  and  over  this,  the  outside  cover- 
ing, consisting  of  eighteen  strands  of  the 
best  quality  of  iron  wire, — each  strand 
composed  of  seven  distinct  wires,  twisted 
spirally,  in  the  most  approved  manner,  by 
machinery  specially  adapted  to  the  pur- 
pose. Such  was  the  exquisitely  constructed 
cable  used  on  this  occasion. 

Great  attention  was  also  paid  to  the 
arrangement  of  the  apparatus  for  paying 
out.  The  machine  for  this  purpose  was 
placed  on  deck  in  the  after-part  of  the 
vessel,  and  somewhat  on  the  starboard  side, 


to  be  clear  of  the  mast,  etc.  The  cable,  as 
it  came  up  from  its  enormous  coils  in  the 
hold,  passed  first  through  a  guiding  groove 
and  over  a  deeply  grooved  wheel,  on  to  the 
drums,  each  of  the  latter  being  furnished 
with  four  deep  grooves,  each  groove  being 
cut  one-eighth  of  an  inch  deeper  than  the 
former  to  allow  for  slack.  The  cable,  after 
winding  round  these  drums,  passed  on 
from  the  last  groove  over  another  guiding 
wheel,  to  a  distinct  piece  of  machinery, 
also  standing  on  the  deck,  and  half-way 
between  the  brakes  and  the  ship's  stern. 
Here  a  grooved  wheel  worked  on  a  sliding 
frame,  furnished  with  weights  fixed  on  a 
rod,  which  ended  in  a  piston,  inside  of  a 
cylinder,  full  of  water.  This  piston,  being 
made  not  quite  large  enough  to  fit  the 
cylinder,  the  water  hud  room  to  play  about 
it,  but  with  difficulty — so  that,  yielding 
freely  to  every  alteration  of  pressure,  it 
could  do  so  to  none  with  a  jerk,  as  the 
piston  required  some  little  time  to  dislodge 
the  water  from  one  side  of  it  to  the  other,  it 
acting,  in  short,  as  a  water  cushion.  From 
this  last  piece  of  machinery  the  cable 
passed  over  a  wheel  or  sheave  projecting 
well  over  the  stern  of  the  ship,  and  so 
down  into  the  ocean  depths. 

So  intelligent  .and  powerful  an  associa- 
tion as  that  which  had  this  great  enter- 
prise in  charge — an  association  composed 
of  some  of  the  leading  merchants  and  cap- 
italists of  England  and  America,  guided 
by  the  wonderful  genius  of  Mr.  Cyrus  W. 
Field, — might  well  be  supposed  incapable 
of  yielding  to  defeat,  and  thus  it  was  that, 
until  success  finally  and  beyond  all  perad- 
venture  crowned  their  efforts,  they  con- 
tinued their  tests  and  trials  of  improved 
machinery  and  cables,  availing  themselves 
of  every  resource  of  science,  and  even 
bringing  into  requisition,  at  last,  the  mag- 
nificent conveniences  of  conveyance  af- 
forded by  that  "  leviathan  of  the  deep,"  the 
steamer  Great  Eastern. 

In  this  way,  certain  facts  and  principles 
were  arrived  at,  and  demonstrated  by  trials 
and  expeditions  conducted  in  accordance 
therewith,  which  showed  plainly  what  had 
been  the  errors  of  the  past,  and  what 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


631 


should  be  the  governing  rules  of  future 
operations.  Among  these  facts  and  princi- 
ples were  the  following : 

It  was  proved  by  the  expedition  of  1858, 
that  a  submarine  telegraph  cable  could  be 
laid  between  Ireland  and  Newfoundland, 
and  messages  transmitted. 

By  the  expedition  of  1865 — when  the 
cable  was  lost — it  was  demonstrated  that 
the  insulation  of  a  cable  improves  very 
much  after  its  submersion  in  the  cold 
deep  water  of  the  Atlantic,  and  that  its 
conducting  power  is  considerably  increased 
thereby ;  that  the  steamship  .Great  East- 
ern, from  her  size  and  constant  steadiness, 
and  from  the  control  over  her  afforded  by 
the  joint  use  of  paddles  and  screw,  ren- 
dered it  safe  to  lay  an  Atlantic  cable  in 
any  weather  ;  that  in  a  depth  of  over  two 
miles,  four  attempts  were  made  to  grapple 
*he  lost  cable,  in  three  of  which  the  cable 
was  caught  by  the  grapnel,  and  in  the 
other  the  grapnel  was  fouled  by  the 
chain  attached  to  it ;  that  the  paying- 
out  machinery  used  on  board  the  Great 
Eastern  worked  perfectly,  and  could  be 
confidently  relied  on  for  laying  cables 
across  the  Atlantic ;  that  with  the  im- 
proved telegraphic  instruments  for  long 
submarine  lines,  a  speed  of  more  than 
eight  words  per  minute  could  be  obtained 
through  such  a  cable  as  that  sunk  between 
Ireland  and  Newfoundland,  as  the  amount 
of  slack  actually  paid  out  did  not  exceed 
fourteen  per  cent.,  which  would  have  made 
the  total  cable  laid  between  Valentia  and 
Heart's  Content  nineteen  hundred  miles  ; 
that  the  lost  Atlantic  cable,  though  capa- 
ble of  bearing  a  strain  of  seven  tons,  did 
not  experience  more  than  fourteen  hun- 
dred-weight in  being  paid  out  into  the 
deepest  water  of  the  Atlantic  between 
Ireland  and  Newfoundland  ;  that  there  was 
no  difficulty  in  mooring  buoys  in  the  deep 
waters  of  the  Atlantic  between  Ireland 
and  Newfoundland,  and  that  two  buoys 
even,  when  moored  by  a  piece  of  the 
Atlantic  cable  itself,  which  had  been  pre- 
viously lifted  from  the  bottom,  had  ridden 
out  a  gale ;  that  more  than  four  nautical 
miles  of  the  Atlantic  cable  had  been 


recovered  from  a  depth  of  over  two  miles, 
and  that  the  insulation  of  the  gutta 
percha  covered  wire  was  in  no  way  what- 
ever impaired  by  the  depth  of  water 
or  the  strains  to  which  it  had  been  sub- 
jected by  lifting  and  passing  through 
the  hauling-in  apparatus  ;  that  the  cable 
of  1865,  owing  to  the  improvements  in- 
troduced into  the  manufacture  of  the 
gutta  percha  core,  was  more  than  one 
hundred  times  better  insulated  than  cables 
made  in  1858,  then  considered  perfect ; 
that  the  electrical  testing  could  be  con- 
ducted with  such  unerring  certainty  as  to 
enable  the  electricians  to  discover  the 


existence  of  a  fault  immediately  after  its 
production  or  development,  and  very 
quickly  to  ascertain  its  position  in  the 
cable ;  and,  finally,  that  with  a  steam- 
engine  attached  to  the  paying-out  ma- 
chinery, should  a  fault  be  discovered  on 
board  whilst  laying  the  cable,  it  was 
possible  to  recover  it  before  it  had  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  and  have  it 
repaired  at  once. 

Still  led  on  by  that  master-spirit  of  the 
enterprise,  Mr.  Field,  its  friends  formed 
themselves  into  a  new  company,  with  a 
large  amount  of  capital,  and  the  summer  of 
1866  was  fixed  upon  for  another  effort,  the 
Great  Eastern  to  be  employed  for  the  pur- 


632 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH 


pose.  By  the  time  (says  Dr.  H.  M.  Field, 
the  admirable  historian  of  the  ente»prise,) 
the  big  ship  had  her  cargo  and  stores  on 
board,  she  was  well  laden.  Of  the  cable 
alone  there  were  two  thousand  four  hun- 
dred miles,  coiled  in  three  immense  tanks, 
as  the  year  before.  Of  this,  seven  hun- 
dred and  forty-eight  miles  were  a  part  of 
the  cable  of  the  last  expedition.  The 
tanks  alone,  with  the  water  in  them, 
weighed  over  a  thousand  tons ;  and  the 
cable  which  they  held,  four  thousand  tons 
more ;  besides  which  she  had  to  carry 
eight  thousand  five  hundred  tons  of  coal 
and  five  hundred  tons  of  telegraph  stores 
— in  all  some  fourteen  thousand  tons, 
besides  engines,  rigging,  etc.,  which  made 
nearly  as  much  more.  So  enormous  was 
this  burden,  that  it  was  thought  prudent 
not  to  take  on  board  all  her  coal  before 
she  left  the '  Medway,  especially  as  the 
channel  was  winding  and  shallow.  It 
was  therefore  arranged  that  about  a  third 
of  her  coal  should  be  taken  in  at  Bere- 
haven, a  port  on  the  south-west  coast  of 
Ireland.  The  time  for  her  departure,  was 
the  last  day  of  June  ;  and  in  four  or  five 
days  she  had  passed  down  the  Irish  coast, 
and  was  quietly  anchored  in  the  harbor  at 
Berehaven,  where  she  was  soon  joined  by 
the  other  vessels  of  the  squadron.  The 
Terrible,  which  had  accompanied  the  Great 
Eastern  on  the  former  expedition,  was  still 
there  to  represent  the  majesty  of  England. 
The  William  Corry,  a  vessel  of  two  thou- 
sand tons,  bore  the  ponderous  shore  end, 
which  was  to  be  laid  out  thirty  miles  from 
the  Irish  coast,  while  the  Albany  and  the 
Medway  were  ships  chartered  by  the  com- 
pany. While  the  Great  Eastern  remained 
at  Berehaven,  to  take  in  her  final  stores  of 
coal,  the  William  Corry  proceeded  around 
the  coast  to  Valentia,  to  lay  the  shore 
end.  She  arrived  off  the  harbor,  July 
7th,  and  immediately  prepared  for  her 
heavy  task.  This  shore  end  was  of  tre- 
mendous size,  weighing  over  eight  tons  to 
the  mile.  The  cable  was  to  be  brought 
off  on  a  bridge  of  boats,  reaching  from  the 
ship  to  the  foot  of  the  cliff.  All  the  fish- 
ermen's boats  were  gathered  from  along 


the  shore,  while  the  British  war-ship 
Racoon,  which  was  guarding  that  part  of 
the  coast,  sent  up  her  boats  to  help,  so 
that,  as  they  all  mustered  in  line,  there 
were  forty  of  them,  making  a  long  pon- 
toon-bridge ;  and  Irish  boatmen  with  eager 
looks  and  strong  hands  were  standing 
along  the  line  to  grasp  the  massive  chain. 
All  went  well,  and  by  one  o'clock  the  cable 
was  landed,  and  its  end  brought  up  the 
cliff  to  the  station.  The  signals  were 
found  to  be  perfect,  and  the  William  Corry 
then  slowly  drew  off  to  sea,  unlimbering 
her  stiff  shore  end,  till  she  had  cast  over 
the  whole  thirty  miles.  At  three  o'clock, 
the  next  morning,  she  telegraphed  through 
the  cable  that  her  work  was  done,  and  she 
had  buoyed  the  end  in  water  a  hundred 
fathoms  deep. 

The  joy  of  the  inhabitants  on  witness- 
ing this  scene  was  earnest  and  deep-seated, 
rather  than  demonstrative,  after  the  les- 
son taught  by  last  year's  experience.  The 
excitement  was  below,  instead  of  above 
the  surface.  Nothing  could  prevent  the 
scene  being  intensely  dramatic,  but  the 
prevailing  tone  of  the  drama  was  serious, 
instead  of  boisterous  and  triumphant. 
Speech-making,  hurrahing,  public  congrat- 
ulations, and  vaunts  of  confidence,  were, 
as  it  seemed,  avoided  as  if  on  purpose. 
The  old  crones  (says  an  English  paper)  in 
tattered  garments  who  cowered  together, 
dudheen  in  mouth,  their  gaudy  colored 
shawls  tightly  drawn  over  head  and  under 
the  chin — the  barefooted  boys  and  girls, 
who  by  long  practice  walked  over  sharp 
and  jagged  rocks,  which  cut  up  boots  and 
shoes,  with  perfect  impunity — the  men  at 
work  uncovering  the  trench,  and  winding 
in  single  file  up  and  down  the  hazardous 
path  cut  by  the  cablemen  in  the  otherwise 
inaccessible  rock — the  patches  of  bright 
color  furnished  by  the  red  petticoats  and 
cloaks — the  ragged  garments,  only  kept 
from  falling  to  pieces  by  bits  of  string  and 
tape — the  good  old  parish  priest,  who  exer- 
cises mild  i,nd  gentle  spiritual  sway  over 
the  loving  subjects  of  whom  the  ever-pop- 
ular Knight  of  Kerry  is  the  temporal 
head,  looking  on  benignly  from  his  car — 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


633 


the  bright  eyes,  supple  figures,  and  inno- 
cent faces  of  the  peasant  lasses,  and  the 
earnestly  hopeful  expression  of  all — made 
up  a  picture  not  easily  described. 

On  the  thirteenth  of  July,  the  fleet  was 
ready  to  sail  on  its  great  errand,  and  lay 
the  cable  in  the  heart  of  the  wide  and 
deep  ocean.  Previously  to  the  departure, 
however,  a  devotional  meeting  was  held, 
participated  in  by  the  company,  the  offi- 
cers and  hands,  at  which  the  enterprise 
was  solemnly  commended  to  the  favor  of 
God.  In  a  short  time  after  leaving  the 
shores  of  Ireland,  the  Medway  reached  the 
buoy  to  which  the  shore-end  was  attached, 
and  immediately  the  operation  of  splicing 
that  end  with  the  main  coil  on  board  the 
Great  Eastern  was  performed. 

At  about  three  o'clock,  p.  M.,  the  tele- 
graph fleet  was  on  its  way  to  Newfound- 
land, in  the  following  order  :  The  Terri- 
ble ahead  of  the  Great  Eastern  on  the 
starboard  bow,  the  Medway  on  the  port, 
and  the  Albany  on  the  starboard  quarter. 
The  weather  was  thick  and  foggy,  with 
heavy  rains.  Signals  were  sent  through 
the  cable  on  board  of  the  Great  Eastern 
and  to  the  telegraph  house  at  Valentia, 
and  the  two  thousand  four  hundred  and 
forty  nautical  miles  were  found  perfect  in 
condition,  and  only  waiting  their  final 
destination  in  the  vast  womb  of  the  ocean. 

All  went  well  until  noon  of  July  18th, 
when  the  first  real  shock  was  given  to  the 
success  that  had  hitherto  attended  them, 
and  caused  considerable  alarm.  A  foul 
flake  took  place  in  the  after-tank.  The 
engine  was  immediately  turned  astern, 
and  the  paying  of  the  cable  stopped.  All 
hands  were  soon  on  the  decks,  and  there 
learned,  to  their  dismay,  that  the  running 
and  paying  out  of  the  coil  had  caught 
three  turns  of  the  flake  immediately  under 
it,  carried  them  into  the  eye  of  the  coil, 
fouling  the  toy-out  and  hauling  up  one- 
half  turna  from  the  outside,  and  five  turns 
of  the  eye  of  the  under  flakes.  This  was 
stopped,  fortunately,  before  entering  the 
paying-out  machines ;  stoppers  of  hemp 
with  chains  were  also  put  on  near  the 
wheel  astern,  and  orders  were  given  by 


Mr.  Canning,  to  stand  by  to  let  go  the 
buoy.  This  was  not  very  cheering  to 
hear ;  but,  though  the  calm  and  collected 
man  inspired  those  around  him  with  con- 
fidence that  his  skill  and  experience  would 
extricate  the  cable  from  the  danger  in 
which  it  was  placed,  no  fishing  line  was 
ever  entangled  more  than  the  rope  when 
thrust  up  in  apparently  hopeless  danger 
from  the  eye  of  the  cable  to  the  deck. 

There  were  at  least  five  thousand  feet 
of  rope  lying  in  this  state,  and  in  the 
midst  of  thick  rain  and  increasing  wind, 
the  cable  crew  set  to  work  to  disentangle 
it.  The  Dolphin  was  there,  too,  patiently 
following  the  lights  as  they  showed  them- 
selves, the  crew  now  passing  them  forward 
and  now  aft,  until  at  last  the  character  of 
the  tangle  was  seen,  and  soon  it  became 
apparent  that  ere  long  the  cable  would  be 
saved  and  uninjured  down  to  the  tank. 
Captain  Anderson  was  at  the  taffrail,  anx- 
iously watching  the  strain  on  the  rope 
(they  could  scarcely  make  it  out,  the  night 
was  so  dark),  endeavoring  to  keep  it  up 
and  down,  going  on  raising  with  paddle 
and  screw.  In  view  of  the  rise  of  the 
great  ship,  and  the  enormous  mass  she 
presented  to  the  wind,  the  difficulty  of 
keeping  her  stern,  under  the  circum- 
stances, over  the  cable,  can  be  appreci- 
ated. The  port  paddle-wheel  was  discon- 
nected, but  afterward  there  was  a  shift 
of  wind,  and  the  vessel  came-to  the  wrong 
way. 

Welcome  voices  were  now  heard  passing 
the  word  aft  from  the  tank,  that  the 
bights  were  cleared,  and  to  pay  out.  Then 
the  huge  stoppers  were  quietly  opened, 
and  at  2  :  05  A.  i'.,  to  the  joy  of  all,  the 
cable  was  once  more  being  discharged. 
They  veered  it  away  in  the  tank  to  clear 
the  screw,  and  the  paddle-engines  were 
slowed  so  as  to  reduce  the  speed  of  the 
ship  to  four  and  a  half  knots.  During  all 
this  critical  time,  there  was  entire  absence 
of  noise  and  confusion.  Everything  was 
silently  done,  and  the  cable  men  and  crew 
worked  with  hearty  good  will. 

On  the  morning  of  Friday,  at  eight 
o'clock,  July  27th,  the  ship  arrived  at 


634 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


Heart's  Content,  the  American  terminus, 
the  distance  run  being  one  thousand  six 
hundred  and  sixty-nine  miles,  and  the 
length  of  cable  paid  out,  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  four  miles.  The  aver- 
age speed  of  the  ship  from  the  time  the 
splice  was  made  until  they  came  in  sight 
of  land  was  a  little  less  than  five  nautical 
miles  per  hour,  and  the  cable  was  paid  out 
at  an  average  of  five  and  one-half  miles 
per  hour.  The  total  slack  was  less  than 
twelve  per  cent.  The  fleet  was  in  con- 
stant communication  with  Valentia  since 
the  splice  was  made,  July  13th,  and 
news  was  daily  received  from  Europe, 
which  was  posted  up  outside  of  the  tele- 
graph office,  for  the  information  of  all  on 
board  of  the  Great  Eastern,  and  was  sig- 
naled to  the  other  ships.  It  would  be 
difficult  to  describe  the  feelings  with  which 
Mr.  Field,  who,  with  his  associates  on 
board,  had  watched  the  progress  of  the 
undertaking  with  intense  solicitude,  day 
and  night, — penned  the  following  an- 
nouncement to  his  friends  in  New  York, 
and  which  was  received  throughout  the 
whole  land  with  unbounded  delight : — 

"  HEART'S  CONTEXT,  July  27.  We 
arrived  here  at  nine  o'clock,  this  morning. 
All  well.  Thank  God,  the  cable  is  laid, 
and  is  in  perfect  working  order. 

CYRUS  W.  FIELD." 

Strangely  and  happily  enough,  too,  the 
first  European  tidings  flashed  across  the 
cable  to  the  western  hemisphere,  was,  that 
a  treaty  of  peace  had  just  been  signed 
between  Austria  and  Prussia,  and  that 
the  black  war  cloud  which  had  gathered 
over  all  Europe  was  fast  fleeing  away  ; — a 
fit  celebration  of  the  grandest  of  human 
enterprises,  the  successful  establishment  of 
telegraphic  communication  between  the 
Old  world  and  the  New. 

Congratulatory  dispatches  were  immedi- 
ately forwarded,  by  Mr.  Field,  to  the  pres- 
ident of  the  United  States,  the  secretary 
of  state,  and  to  the  honorary  directors  of 
the  Atlantic  Telegraph  Company.  The 
queen  of  England  sent  her  salutations  to 
the  president,  as  follows:  "The  Queen 


congratulates  the  President  on  the  suc- 
cessful completion  of  an  undertaking  which 
she  hopes  may  serve  as  an  additional  bond 
of  union  between  the  United  States  and 
England."  To  this,  the  president  re- 
sponded by  saying :  "  The  President  of 
the  United  States  acknowledges  with  pro- 
found gratification  the  receipt  of  Her 
Majesty's  dispatch,  and  cordially  recipro- 
cates the  hope  that  the  cable  which  now 
unites  the  eastern  and  western  hemi- 
spheres may  serve  to  strengthen  and  to 
perpetuate  peace  and  amity  between  the 
Government  of  England  and  the  Republic 
of  the  United  States." 

Heart's  Content,  the  American  terminus 
of  the  cable,  is  a  little  fishing  hamlet, 
hitherto  unknown,  but  destined  to  an  en- 
during reputation  hereafter,  as  one  of  the 
most  interesting  geographical  points  in 
the  history  of  the  age.  The  bay  on  which 
it  is  situated  is  a  very  safe  and  capacious 
one,  and  on  this  account  was  selected. 

Among  the  complimentary  messages 
sent  to  Mr.  Field,  on  the  consummation  of 
his  great  and  magnificent  scheme,  was  one 
which  came  to  hand  on  Monday,  July 
30th,  from  M.  de  Lesseps,  the  renowned 
projector  of  the  Suez  Canal.  It  was 
dated  in  Alexandria,  Egypt,  the  same  day, 
at  half-past  one  o'clock,  p.  M.,  and  reached 
Newfoundland  at  half-past  ten,  A.  M.  By 
looking  at  the  globe,  one  can  see  over 
what  a  space  that  message  flew.  Remark- 
ing upon  the  wonderful  fact,  a  New  York 
paper  graphically  said  that  it  came  from  the 
farthest  East,  from  the  land  of  the  Pha- 
raohs and  Ptolemies ;  it  passed  along  the 
shores  of  Africa,  and  under  the  Mediter- 
ranean, more  than  a  thousand  miles,  to 
Malta ;  thence  it  leaped  to  the  continent, 
and  shot  across  Italy,  and  over  the  Alps, 
and  then  through  France,  under  the  Chan- 
nel, to  London  ;  then  across  England  and 
Ireland,  till  from  the  cliffs  of  Valentia  it 
struck  straight  into  the  Atlantic,  darting 
down  the  submarine  mountain  which  lies 
off  the  coast,  and  over  all  the  hills  and 
valleys  of  the  watery  plain,  resting  not 
till  it  touched  the  shore  of  the  New  World. 
Thus,  in  its  morning's  flight,  it  had  passed 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  GREAT   EASTERN  AT  HEART'S  CONTENT,   WITH  THE   ATLANTIC  CABLE. 


over  one-fourth  of  the  earth's  surface, 
and  so  far  outstripped  the  sun  in  his 
course,  that,  by  the  dial,  it  reached  its 
destination  three  hours  before  it  was  sent ! 
Curiously  enough,  too,  in  this  latter  con- 
nection, it  was  found,  when  considering 
the  propriety  of  not  sending  messages  on 
Sunday,  that,  supposing  no  delay  in  trans- 
mission, Sunday  in  the  United  States  is 
Saturday  in  Calcutta,  and  thus  the  adop- 
tion of  such  a  rule  would  be — working  east- 
ward and  westward — to  exclude  Saturday, 
Sunday,  and  Monday,  from  telegraph 
operations. 

As  illustrating  the  moral  uses,  too,  sub- 
served by  land  and  ocean  telegraph  lines 
connecting  different  countries  and  conti- 
nents, the  following  case,  given  in  a  New 
York  journal — by  no  means  an  extreme 
case  in  this  present  day  of  increased  tele- 
graphic facilities — will  be  found  in  point : 
A  knavish  Chinaman  in  California  having 
contracted  the  barbarian  vice  of  swindling, 
has  been  cheating  sundry  merchants  in 
San  Francisco  out  of  eighteen  thousand 
dollars,  and,  getting  on  board  the  Pacific 
Mail  steamship,  fled  to  the  Central  Flowery 
Kingdom.  Tn  this  way  he  hoped  to  put 
between  himself  and  those  whom  he  had 
robbed,  first,  some  ten  thousand  miles  of 
ocean.  But,  a  telegram  from  San  Fran- 
cisco bears  the  tidings  of  his  crime  to  New 
York.  New  York  sends  it  by  cable  across 
the  Atlantic  to  London,  London  through 


France  and  under  the  Mediterranean  to 
Alexandria,  Alexandria  by  the  Red  Sea 
and  Persian  Gulf  to  Bombay,  Bombay  to 
Ceylon,  and  Ceylon  by  the  Peninsula  and 
Oriental  steamers  to  China.  So  that, 
when  Hong-Kee  trips  lightly  down  the 
ship's  gangway  at  Hong  Kong  or  Shang- 
hai, dreaming  of  much  opium  and  many 
almond-eyed  daughters  of  the  Sun  in  the 
Land  of  Flowers,  his  placid  soul  will  be 
disconcerted  by  the  tap  of  a  bamboo  on 
his  shoulder,  and  a  voice  of  doom  will 
murmur  an  ungentle  summons  in  his  ear. 
Poor  Hong-Kee  !  The  bad  morals  of  the 
Christians  have  corrupted  him,  and  in  the 
steam-engine  of  the  Christians  has  he  put 
his  trust.  But  the  literal  '  chain-light- 
ning' of  those  same  Christians  is  after 
him,  to  outstrip  their  steam-engine,  and  to 
teach  him  in  sorrow  arid  in  shame  how 
much  better  he  might  have  done. 

Not  less  curious,  in  a  scientific  point  of 
view,  is  the  following  incident,  as  related 
by  Mr.  Field,  at  the  magnificent  banquet 
given  in  his  honor,  in  New  York,  on  the 
triumphant  completion  of  what  has  justly 
been  pronounced  the  grandest  of  human 
enterprises.  "  The  other  day,"  said  Mr. 
Field,  in  his  speech  on  this  occasion,  "  Mr. 
Lattimer  Clark  telegraphed  from  Ireland, 
across  the  ocean  and  back  again,  with  a 
battery  formed  in  a  lady's  thimble  !  And 
now  Mr.  Collett  writes  me  from  Heart's 
Content :  "  I  have  just  sent  my  compli- 


636 


LAYING  OF  THE  ATLANTIC  TELEGRAPH. 


ments  to  Doctor  Gould,  of  Cambridge, 
who  is  at  Valentia,  with  a  battery  com- 
posed of  a  gun  cap,  with  a  strip  of  ziiic, 
excited  by  a  drop  of  water,  the  simple  bulk 
of  a  tear  !  '  " 

Too  great  credit  can  never  be  awarded 
to  Mr.  Field,  for  his  persevering  devotion 
to  this  enterprise,  through  ten  years  of 
disheartening  failure.  In  the  early  stages 
of  the  enterprise,  few  encouraged  him  in 
his  expectations,  though  all  personally 
wished  him  well.  On  preparing,  there- 
fore, for  one  of  his  trips  across  the  Atlan- 
tic, in  connection  with  the  business,  one 
of  his  friends  said  to  him,  "  When  shall 
we  see  you  again  ?  "  "  Not  until  I  have 
laid  the  cable  !  "  was  Mr.  Field's  reply. 
So,  too,  on  presenting  the  subject  to 
Lord  Clarendon.  The  latter  showed 
great  interest  and  made  many  inquiries, 
but  was  rather  startled  at  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  proposed  scheme,  as  well 


as  at  the  confident  tone  of  the  projec- 
tors, and  pleasantly  asked  the  lion-hearted 
man — 

"  But,  suppose  you  don't  succeed  ?  Sup- 
pose you  make  the  attempt  and  fail — your 
cable  is  lost  in  the  sea — then  what  will 
you  do  ?  " 

"  Charge  it  to  profit  and  loss,  and  go  to 
work  to  lay  another,"  was  Mr.  Field's  quick 
and  characteristic  response  to  his  noble 
friend. 

On  another  occasion,  when  dining  at 
the  residence  of  Mr.  Adams,  the  Ameri- 
can ambassador,  in  London,  he  was  seen 
for  an  instant  to  nod  his  head.  John 
Bright,  who  sat  next  to  him,  turned  to 
him  with  a  smile,  and  said,  "  I  am  glad  to 
see  you  sleep  ;  /  didn't  know  that  you  ever 
slept  !  " — a  most  pertinent  and  deserved 
tribute  to  the  man  whose  indomitable  faith 
and  energy  was  finally  crowned  with  im- 
mortal success. 


LXXV1. 
COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC   RAILROAD.— 1869. 


Spikes  of  the  Richest  <*old  and  a  Hammer  of  Pure  Silver  Used  in  Laying  the  Last  Rail. — The  Blows 
of  the  Sledge  Telegraphed  to  All  the  Great  Cities  — The  Wide  Continent  Spanned  with  Iron  from  the 
farthest  East  to  the  Golden  Gate — .Junction  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans. — Seven  Days  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco. — Greatest  Railroad  Route  on  the  Face  of  the  Earth. — "  Manifest  Des- 
tiny "of  the  United  States. — A  Pacific  Highway  Agitated  for  Years — Its  National  Importance  and 
Necessity. — Charters  and  Government  Aid  at  Last. — The  "  Union  "  and  "  Central "  Companies. — 
Natural  Difficulties  to  be  Overcome. — Feats  of  Engineering  Involved. — Triumphs  of  Science  in  this 
Respect. — Mountains  Tunneled,  Rivers  Bridged. — Gulfs  Spanned,  Depths  Fathomed. — Vastness  and 
Progress  of  the  Work. — A  Force  of  Twenty-five  Thousand  Men  and  Six  Thousand  Teams — First 
Train  at  the  Top  of  the  Sierras. — Pushing  the  Line  to  Completion. — Approach  of  the  .""wo  Grand 
Divisions. — Union  at  Promontory  Point,  Utah — Exultation  Over  the  Victory. — Historic  Scene  in  the 
Heart  of  America.— Offerings  of  Gold,  Silver,  Iron,  and  Laurel.— Telegram  to  President  Grant.— Cel- 
ebration in  the  Principal  Cities. — Easy  Journey  Around  tiie  World. 


"The  Inst  rail  is  laid— the  last  «pike  driven— the  Peciflc  Railroad  i»  completed  I"—  OFFICIAL  TELEOBAU  man  PEOBOKTOKT  Poll-. 
OCTOBIB  10th.  ISKl 


MOUNTAIN  8CEXE  OX  THE  PACIFIC  RAILItOAD. 


ELIEVERS  in  the  "manifest  destiny" 
of  the  universal  Yankee  nation  were  fa- 
vored with  one  of  the  most  conclusive  and 
gratifying  confirmations  of  their  cherished 
theory,  when  that  most  stupendous  work 
ever  undertaken  by  man,  the  Construction 
of  the  Pacific  Railway,  was  finally  consum- 
mated by  the  laying  of  the  last  rail  and  the 
memorable  ceremony  performed  by  officials 
of  clasping  together  the  iron  girdle  about 
the  loins  of  the  nation  ;— in  the  winding  of 
which  mighty  coil  across  the  continent, 
mountains  were  tunneled  which  made 
one's  head  giddy  to  gaze  upon ;  rivers  were 
bridged  which,  since  the  primeval  days  of 
creation,  had  rolled  in  majestic  solitude; 
gulfs,  frightful  and  tumultuous,  were 
spanned;  frowning  heights  were  climbed 
and  leveled ;  and  abyssmal  depths  were 
fathomed.  And  all  this  was  accomplished 
in  a  period  of  time,  and  on  a  scale  of  mag- 
nitude, the  recital  of  which  is  fairly  calcu- 
lated to  stagger  credulity. 

Notwithstanding  the  necessity  of  such  a 
'ine  of  communication  had  for  years  been 


638 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


repeatedly  urged,  it  was  not  until  1859 
that  a  bill  was  carried  through  congress, 
authorizing  the  grand  scheme.  This  bill, 
— according  to  the  Chicago  Times'  exhaust- 
ive account  of  the  history  of  the  enter- 
prise, which  is  here  abridged, — comprised 
no  less  than  three  great  lines,  namely,  the 
northern,  the  southern,  and  the  central. 
But  the  breaking  out  of  the  civil  war 
checked  the  enterprise.  The  astonishing 
development,  however,  of  the  precious  . 
metals  in  Nevada  and  the  travel  and  traf- 
fic that  inevitably  followed,  embodied  for 
the  mines  of  Californians  that  imperious 
need  of  a  cheaper  and  easier  conveyance, 
into  a  plan  of  a  continental  railway,  which 
had  always  been  popular  there. 

The  assumed  impracticability  of  cross- 
ing the  Sierras  did  not  discourage  a  few 
daring,  far-sighted  engineers,  prominent 
among  whom  was  Mr.  T.  P.  Benjamin, 
the  character  of  whose  surveys  decided 
the  state  legislature  to  charter  the  Cen- 
tral Pacific  railroad  company,  in  1862. 
In  a  short  time,  success  crowned  the  ef- 
forts of  the  friends  of  the  enterprise  in 
congress;  and  so,  in  July,  1862,  the  great 
continental  railway  from  the  Missouri  to 
the  Pacific  was  an  assured  undertaking. 
In  1865,  forty  miles  were  built ;  in  1866, 
two  hundred  and  sixty-five  miles;  in 
1867,  two  hundred  and  forty-five  miles; 
in  1868,  four  hundred  and  twenty-five 
miles ;  in  1869,  one  hundred  and  five 
miles.  East  of  Salt  Lake  City,  the  eleva- 
tion of  the  road  averages  about  seven  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  sea.  Most  of  the  coun- 
try is  very  rough,  destitute  of  wood  and 
water,  and  a  large  portion  of  the  way  is 
through  an  alkali  desert.  Tremendous 
jnow-storms  in  the  mountains  presented 
another  great  difficulty. 

The  spirit  of  rivalry  did  its  share  in 
stimulating  the  activity  of  the  Union 
Pacific  company.  The  efforts  of  this  com- 
pany had  so  far  languished  during  the  ear- 
lier history  of  their  corporation,  that  iittle 
was  done  till  after  the  close  of  the  war. 
The  Central  Pacific,  however,  immediately 
commenced  work,  so  that,  in  January, 
1863,  the  first  grading  was  done, — the 


occasion  being  signalized  with  great  re- 
joicing as  a  general  holiday, — and,  even  so 
early  as  June,  1864,  thirty-one  miles  of 
track  had  been  laid  to  New  Castle,  nearly 
one  thousand  feet  above  the  sea  at  the 
foot  of  the  Sierras.  But,  owing  to  finan- 
cial difficulties,  it  was  not  until  September, 
1866,  that  progress  was  made  to  Alta,  sev- 
enty miles  east  of  Sacramento,  and  nearly 
six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  In  No- 
vember following,  the  track  reached  Cisco, 
some  six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  an 
average  elevation  of  about  one  hundred 
feet  per  mile  being  overcome  in  twenty- 
three  miles. 

Work  on  the  Union  Pacific  did  not 
commence  till  eighteen  months  after  the 
Central  had  inaugurated  their  section  of 
the  enterprise.  In  the  spring  of  1867. 
when  the  snows  had  melted,  the  work  was 
resumed  by  both  companies,  with  great 
vigor,  the  race  being  kept  up  with  an 
ardor  that  constantly  gathered  head.  The 
Union  was  far  ahead  in  respect  to  dis- 
tance, but  they  had  to  fight  against  con- 
tinually increasing  difficulties,  while  the 
Central  had  already  overcome  the  great 
ones  of  their  undertaking  in  crossing  the 
Sierras,  and  could  look  forward  to  an  open 
and  easy  route.  The  first  passenger  train 
reached  the  top  of  the  Sierras,  November 
30,  1867.  By  the  time  the  western  end 
of  the  route  had  reached  the  lower 
Truckee,  one  hundred  and  forty  miles 
east  of  Sacramento,  the  Union  had  reached 
a  point  in  the  Black  Hills,  five  hundred 
miles  west  of  Omaha. 

At  the  opening  of  the  summer  of  1868, 
the  two  companies  were  nearly  equally 
distant  from  Monument  Point,  at  the 
head  of  Salt  Lake,  and  the  emulation  be- 
tween the  two  gave  rise  to  prodigious  ef- 
forts. About  twenty-five  thousand  men 
and  six  thousand  teams  were  engaged 
along  the  route  between  the  foot  of  the 
Sierras  and  Evans's  pass.  The  competi- 
tion increased  as  they  neared  each  other, 
and  at  last  the  struggle  arose  as  to  the 
point  of  junction.  The  Central  company 
wished  Ogden  fixed  as  the  point  of  junc- 
tion, and  the  Union  urged  Monument 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


Point;  tho  matter  was  at  last  settled  by  a 
decision  in  favor  of  the  former.  The  dan- 
gers to  which  the  laborers  were  subjected, 
and  the  imperious  necessity  of  vigilant 
protection  of  the  track  and  material  of  the 
road,  were  great  and  unceasing,  owing  to 
the  inveterate  hostility  of  the  Indians. 
From  Fort  Kearney  west,  up  the  Platte 
river,  to  the  foot  of  the  Black  Hills,  the 
road  was  subject  to  a  continual  succession 
of  fierce  attacks.  Several  battalions  of 
United  States  troops  were  scattered  along 
the  line,  and  found  full  employment  in 
adequately  guarding  the  object  of  their 
vigilance. 

That  the  completion  of  such  a  vast  en- 
terprise, unparalleled  in  magnitude  and 
grandeur,  should  be  hailed  as  one  of  the 
most  memorable  achievements  in  the  ma- 
terial progress  of  the  country,  was  cer- 
tainly to  be  expected.  Nor  is  it  to  be 
wondered  at  that  the  original  pick  and 
shovel  employed  in  commencing  such  a 
work,  should  still  be  looked  upon,  by  every 
patriot,  with  historic  interest.  They  are 
carefully  preserved,  and  bear  the  following 
inscriptions : 

"Pick  that  stmck  the  first  bloia  on  the 
Union  Pacific  railroad,  Omaha,  Decem- 
ber 2,  1863.  Pickers :  Thomas  Acheson, 
Wilson  F.  Williams,  George  Francis  Train, 
Peter  A.  Day." 

"  Shovel  used  by  George  Sounders,  to 
move  the  first  earth  in  the  Union  Pacific 
railroad,  Omaha,  Neb.,  December  3, 1863. 
Shcvelers :  Alvin  Saunders,  governor  of 
Nebraska;  B.  E.  B.  Kennedy,  mayor  of 
Omaha;  I.  M.  Palmer,  mayor  of  Council 
Bluffs ;  Augustus  Kountze,  director  of 
U.  P.  R.  R." 

The  following  table  of  distances  on  the 
two  lines  will  show  the  magnitude  of  this 
great  channel  of  continental  communica- 
tion :  From  New  York  to  Chicago,  911 
miles;  from  Chicago  to  Omaha,  Neb., 
491  miles.  From  Omaha,  by  the  Union 
Pacific  line,  to  Ogden,  1,030,  and  a  branch 
of  forty  miles  to  Salt  Lake  City.  From 
Ogden,  hy  the  Central  Pacific  line,  748 
miles.  From  Sacramento  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, 120  miles.  Thus,  the  grand  dis- 


tance, by  the  iron  track,  from  Omaha  to 
San  Francisco,  is  1,898  miles ;  from  Chi- 
cago to  San  Francisco,  2,389;  from  New 
York  to  San  Francisco,  3,377  miles, 

In  less  than  one-half  or  one-third  of  the 
time  predicted  at  the  outset  of  the  enter- 
prise, the  road  was  completed, — a  great 
feat,  indeed,  when  it  is  considered  that 
the  workmen  operated  at  such  a  distance 
from  their  base  of  supplies,  and  that  the 
material.*1  for  construction  and  subsistence 
had  to  be  transported  under  such  a  vari- 
ety of  difficulties.  Thus,  the  transporta- 
tion of  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  tons 
of  iron  rails,  one  million  fish-plates,  two 
million  bolts,  fifteen  million  spikes,  three 
and  a  half  million  cross-ties,  and  millions 
of  feet  of  timber  not  estimated,  for  the 
construction  of  roads,  culverts  and  bridges, 
made  one  of  the  minor  items  of  the  ac- 
count. The  moving  of  engines  and  ma- 
chinery for  stocking  manufactories,  of 
materials  for  foundries  and  buildings  of 
every  kind,  not  to  speak  of  the  food  for  an 
army  of  thousands  of  workmen,  all  of 
which  belong  to  the  single  account  of 
transportation,  may  also  give  an  impres- 
sion of  the  activity  and  expense  required 
in  bringing  such  a  road  to  completion  in 
so  short  a  time. 

Of  course  the  irregularities  of  surface 
characterizing  a  distance  so  immense,  and 
particularly  that  portion  of  the  line  run- 
ning among  the  Sierra  Nevada  mountains, 
necessitated  tunneling,  cutting,  and  tres- 
tle-bridging, on  a  large  scale.  The  well- 
known  Bloomer  Cut,  sixty-three  feet  deep 
and  eight  hundred  feet  long,  is  through 
cemented  gravel  and  sand,  of  the  consist- 
ency of  solid  rock,  and  only  to  be  moved 
by  blasting.  The  trestle-bridging  con- 
stituted one  of  the  most  important  features 
in  the  construction  of  the  road,  and  the 
work,  on  completion,  was  pronounced  oi 
the  most  durable  description.  Among  the 
most  famous  of  these  structures  may  be 
mentioned  the  trestle  and  truss  bridge, 
Clipper  ravine,  one  hundred  feet  high; 
the  Long  ravine,  Howe  truss  bridge  and 
trestle,  one  hundred  and  fifteen  feet  high  ; 
and  the  trestle  at  Secrettowii;  one  thou- 


640 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


sand  feet  long,  and  fifty  to  ninety  feet 
high.  The  highest  engineering  skill  was 
demanded,  from  first  to  last,  and  the  tri- 
umphs of  science,  in  this  respect,  were 
complete. 

The  total  mileage  of  the  roads  built  un- 
der the  direct  authority  and  by  the  aid  of 
the  national  government,  was  two  thou- 
sand four  hundred  miles.  The  govern- 
ment subsidy  in  aid  of  these  works, 
amounted  to  about  $64,000,000,  of  six  per 
cent,  currency  bonds,  the  companies  being 
also  authorized  to  issue  an  equal  amount 
of  bonds.  Both  companies  had  also  a  land 
grant  from  congress,  in  alternate  sections, 
equal  to  twelve  thousand  eight  hundred 
acres  per  mile. 

Ninety  million  dollars  was  the  cost  of 
the  Union  Pacific  railroad,  up  to  1869 ; 
that  ot  the  Central  Pacific,  seventy-five 
million.  This  enormous  sum,  especially 
in  its  relation  to  the  government  indebt- 
edness, alarmed  some  timid  economists. 
But  a  sufficient  answer  to  their  arguments 
was,  that  millions  upon  millions  of  acres 
of  government  lands,  hitherto  lying  idle, 
would  come  into  the  market,  and  very 
speedily  appear  as  productive  farms  tilled 
by  the  hand  of  industry ;  that  towns,  vil- 
lages, cities,  manufacturing,  mining,  and 
all  the  appliances  and  evidences  of  mate- 
rial progress,  would  at  once  take  a  start, 
the  wealth  of  the  East  be  poured  into  the 
West,  and  emigration  westward  populat? 
territories  and  turn  them  into  states  as  if 
by  magic.  By  means  of  this  new  and 
wonderful  highway,  the  distance  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco  would  be 
traversed  by  passengers  in  six  cr  seven 
days,  instead  of  three  weeks  or  more  via 
Panama.  From  San  Francisco  to  Japan 
is  nineteen  days,  or  twenty-five  from  New 
York,  and  some  thirty-six  from  London,  a 
speed  exceeding  that  of  the  British  mails 
to  Yokohama,  via  Suez,  by  upwards  of 
twenty  days.  And  thus,  San  Francisco, 
on  the  Pacific,  the  travel  and  commerce  of 
the  nations  of  Western  Europe  with  the 
hundreds  of  millions  of  people  of  Eastern 
Asia,  and  the  great  island  of  Australia, 
would  pass  over  the  railway, — the  land 


that  built  it  thereby  reaping  the  benefit  of 
being  the  world's  highway. 

On  the  tenth  of  May,  1869,  the  grand  his- 
toric event  took  place  at  Promontory  Point, 
Utah,  of  uniting  the  two  great  divisions  of 
the  trans-continental  railway.  Early  in 
the  morning,  says  the  Chicago  Tribune, 
Governor  Stanford  and  party  from  the  Pa- 
cific coast  were  on  the  ground ;  and  at  half- 
past  eight,  an  engine  with  a  palace  and  two 
•  passenger  cars  arrived  from  the  east  bring- 
ing Vice-President  Durant  and  directors 
Duff  and  Dillon,  of  the  Union  Pacific  rail- 
road, with  other  distinguished  visitors, 
including  several  Mormon  apostles.  Both 
parties  being  in  readiness,  the  ties  were 
thrown  down  on  the  open  space  of  about 
one  hundred  feet,  and  the  employes  of 
the  two  companies  approached  with  the 
rails  to  fill  the  gap.  Mr.  Stenbridge,  sub- 
contractor, who  had  been  in  charge  of  the 
building  of  the  Central  Pacific  from  the 
laying  of  the  first  rail  on  the  bank  of  the 
Sacramento,  commanding  a  party  of  Chi- 
nese track-layers,  advanced  from  the  west 
with  assistant  -  general  superintendent 
Corning. 

The  Chinamen,  conscious  that  the 
strangers  from  the  far  east  were  watch- 
ing their  movements  with  curious  eyes, 
wielded  the  pick,  shovel  and  sledge,  with 
consummate  dexterity ;  but  their  faces  wore 
an  appearance  of  unconcern  and  indiffer- 
ence wonderful  if  real,  and  not  the  less  so 
if  affected.  White  laborers  from  the  east 
did  their  best  work,  but  with  more  indica- 
tion of  a  desire  to  produce  an  effect,  and 
at  eleven  o'clock  the  European  and  Asiatic 
private  soldiers  of  civilization  stood  face 
to  face  in  the  heart  of  America,  each 
proudly  conscious  that  the  work  was  well 
done,  and  each  exultant  over  so  noble  a 
victory.  Engine  No,  119  from  the  Atlan- 
tic, and  Jupiter,  No.  60,  from  the  Pacific, 
each  decorated  with  flags  and  evergreens 
for  the  occasion,  then  approached  within  a 
hundred  feet  from  opposite  directions,  and 
saluted  with  exultant  screams.  Superin- 
tendent Vandenburgb.  now  attached  the 
telegraph  wires  to  the  last  rail,  so  that 
each  blow  of  the  sledge  should  be  recorded 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


641 


on  every  connecting  telegraph  instrument 
between  San  Francisco  anil  Portland,  Me. 
It  was  also  arranged  so  that  corresponding 
blows  should  be  struck  on  the  bell  in  the 
city  hall  at  San  Francisco,  and  the  last 
one  fire  a  cannon  in  the  batteries  at  Fort 
Point.  General  Safford,  in  behalf  of  the 
territory  of  Arizona,  presented  a  spike 
composed  of  iron,  gold  and  silver,  as  an 
offering  by  Arizona,  saying : 


be  struck.  Every  head  was  uncovered  in 
reverential  silence,  while  Rev.  Dr.  Todd, 
of  Pittsfield,  Mass.,  offered  up  a  brief  and 
deeply  impressive  invocation. 

The  magnificent  tie  of  laurel,  on  which 
was  a  commemorative  plate  of  silver,  was 
brought  forward,  put  in  place,  and  Doctor 
Harkness,  in  behalf  of  the  state  of  Califor- 
nia, presented  Governor  Stanford  the  gold 
spike.  President  Stanford,  of  the  Central 
Pacific  railroad,  responded,  accepting  the 
golden  and  silver  tokens,  predicting  the 
day  as  not  far  distant  when  three  tracks 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  KAILBOAD. 

"Ribbed  with  iron,  clad  in  silver,  and 
crowned  with  gold,  Arizona  presents  her 
offering  to  the  enterprise  that  has  banded 
every  continent  and  dictated  a  new  path- 
way to  commerce." 

The  crowd  fell  back  at  the  request  of 
General  Casement,  and  the  artist  for  the 
Union  Pacific  railroad  photographed  the 
scene,  with  the  locomotives  confronting 
each  other,  and  Chinese  and  Caucasian 
laborers  confronting  the  work.  It  was 
aow  announced  that  the  last  blow  was  to 


would  be  found  necessary  to  accommodate 
the  traffic  which  would  seek  transit  across 
the  continent,  and  closing  with  the  happy 
summons — "Now,  gentlemen,  with  your 
assistance,  we  will  proceed  to  lay  the  last 
rail,  the  last  tie,  and  drive  the  last  spike." 
General  Dodge,  in  behalf  of  the  Union 
Pacific  railroad,  responded  as  follows : 
"  Gentlemen, — The  great  Benton  prophe- 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


sied  that  some  day  a  granite  statue  of  Co- 
lumbus would  be  erected  on  the  highest 
peak  of  the  Rocky  mountains  pointing 
westward,  denoting  this  as  the  great  route 
across  the  continent.  You  have  made 
that  prophecy  this  day.  Accept  this  as 
the  way  to  India."  Mr.  Tuttle,  from 
Nevada,  presented  a  silver  spike  on  behalf 
of  the  citizens  of  that  state,  with  the  fol- 
lowing remarks:  "To  the  iron  of  the  East 
and  the  gold  of  the  West,  Nevada  adds 
her  link  of  silver,  to  spaa  the  continent 
and  wed  the  oceans."  Thereupon,  Super- 
intendent Coe,  in  behalf  of  the  Pacific 
Union  express,  presented  the  silver  ham- 
mer, or  sledge,  with  which  to  drive  the 
last  spike. 

Governor  Stanford  and  Vice-President 
Durant  advanced,  took  in  hand  the  sledge, 
and  drove  the  spike,  while  the  multitude 
stood  silent.  Mr.  Miles,  of  Sacramento, 
who  was  chairman  of  the  meeting,  an- 
nounced the  great  work  done!  The  si- 
lence of  the  multitude  was  now  broken, 
and  a  prolonged  shout  went  forth,  which, 
while  it  yet  quivered  on  the  gladdened  air, 
was  caught  up  by  the  willing  lightning, 
and  borne  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth.  Cheer  followed  cheer  for  the  union 
of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  the  two  Pacific 
railroad  companies  and  their  officers,  the 
president  of  the  United  States,  the  Star 
Spangled  Banner,  the  laborers,  ei;c.  A 
telegram  announcing  the  grand  consumma- 
tion was  sent  at  once  to  President  Grant, 
and  one  to  the  associated  newspaper  press 
immediately  followed,  worded  thus : 

"  The  last  rail  is  laid  !  The  last  spike 
driven  !  The  Pacific  Railroad  is  com- 
pleted! The  point  of  junction  is  1,086 
miles  west  of  the  Missouri  river,  and  690 
miles  east  of  Sacramento  City." 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  interest  and 
excitement  in  Washington,  and  a  large 
crowd  assembled  at  the  telegraph  office, 
as  soon  as  it  was  known  that  the  driving 
of  the  last  spike  would  be  announced  by 
the  wires.  Mr.  Tinker,  the  manager,  fixed 
a  magnetic  ball  in  a  conspicuous  place, 
where  all  present  could  witness  the  per- 
formance, and  connected  the  same  with 


the  main  lines,  notifying  the  various 
offices  throughout  the  country,  that  he 
was  ready.  New  Orleans,  New  York  and 
Boston,  instantly  answered  that  they  were 
ready.  Soon  afterward,  many  of  the  offi- 
ces in  different  parts  of  the  country  be- 
gan to  make  all  sorts  of  inquiries  of  the 
office  at  Omaha,  from  which  point  the  ci»- 
cuit  was  to  be  started.  That  office  replied : 

"  To  everybody  :  Keep  quiet.  When 
the  last  spike  is  driven  a?  Promontory 
Point,  we  will  say  "Done."  Don't  break 
the  circuit,  but  watch  for  the  signals  of 
the  blows  of  the  hammer." 

After  some  little  delay,  the  instruments 
were  all  adjusted,  and  2.27,  in  the  after- 
noon, Promontory  Point  said  to  the  peo- 
ple congregated  in  the  various  telegraph 
offices — "  Almost  ready.  Hats  off ;  prayer 
is  being  offered."  A  silence  for  the  prayer 
ensued.  At  2.40  the  bell  tapped  again; 
and  the  office  at  the  Point  said — "We 
have  got  done  praying.  The  spike  is 
about  to  be  presented."  Chicago  replied 
— "We  understand.  All  are  ready  in  the 
East."  Promontory  Point — "All  ready 
now.  The  spike  will  soon  be  driven.  The 
signal  will  be  three  dots  for  the  com- 
mencement of  the  blows." 

For  a  moment  the  instrument  was 
silent,  and  then  the  hammer  of  the  mag- 
net tapped  the  bell,  one,  two,  three — the 
signal.  Another  pause  of  a  few  seconds, 
and  the  lightning  came  flashing  eastward, 
vibrating  two  thousand  four  hundred  miles, 
between  the  junction  of  the  two  roads  and 
Washington,  and  the  blows  of  the  ham- 
mer upon  the  spike  were  delivered  in- 
stantly, in  telegraphic  accents,  on  the  bell 
in  Washington.  At  2.47,  in  the  after- 
noon, Promontory  Point  gave  the  signal, 
"DONE!" — the  announcement  that  the 
continent  was  spanned  with  iron.  The 
time  of  the  event  in  San  Francisco  was 
11.45,  in  the  forenoon.  A  telegraph  wire 
had  been  attached  to  a  fifteen-inch  gun. 
and  as  the  first  stroke  on  the  last  spike 
was  telegraphed  from  Promontory  Point, 
the  gun  was  fired  by  electricity,  and  by 
the  same  agent  all  the  fire-bells  in  the  city 
were  rung. 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILKOAD. 


The  news  of  the  completion  of  the  road 
created,  of  course,  great  enthusiasm  in  all 
the  cities  of  California.  In  San  Francisco, 
the  event  was  celebrated  in  a  manner  long 
to  be  remembered.  The  day  was  ushered 
in  by  a  salute  of  one  hundred  guns,  and 
congratulatory  messages  were  transmitted 
to  the  directors  of  the  Central  and  Union 
roads  by  the  "California  Pioneers."  All 
the  Federal  forts  in  the  harbor  fired  sa- 
lutes, the  bells  being  rung  and  the  steam 
whistles  blown  at  the  same  time.  Busi- 
ness was  suspended,  nearly  every  citizen 
exhibiting  a  hearty  interest  in  the  demon- 
strations. The  procession  was  the  largest 
and  most  imposing  ever  witnessed  in  San 
Francisco.  In  addition  to  the  state  mili- 
tia, all  the  available  United  States  troops 
participated  in  the  pageant,  while  the 
civic  societies  turned  out  with  full  ranks. 
The  shipping  was  dressed  in  fine  style — 
both  the  city  and  harbor,  indeed,  present- 
ing a  magnificent  sight.  During  the  day, 
the  principal  buildings  were  festooned 
with  the  banners  of  every  nation,  and  the 
streets  were  thronged  with  an  excited  and 
joyous  people.  At  night,  the  whole  city 
was  brilliantly  illuminated. 

At  Sacramento,  the  event  was  observed 
with  marked  demonstrations.  The  city 
was  crowded  with  a  multitude  of  people 
from  all  parts  of  the  state  and  Nevada,  to 
participate  in  or  witness  the  festivities, 
particularly  the  grand  odd-fellows'  proces- 
sion. The  lines  of  travel  to  and  from  Sac- 
ramento were  thrown  open  to  the  public 
free,  and  an  immense  number  of  people 
took  advantage  of  this  arrangement  and 
flocked  thither.  The  Central  Pacific  com- 
pany had  thirty  locomotives  gaily  decked, 
and  as  the  signal  gun  was  fired  announc- 
ing the  driving  of  the  last  spike  of  the 
road,  the  locomotives  opened  an  overpow- 
ering chorus  of  whistles,  all  the  bells  and 
steam  whistles  of  the  city  immediately 
joining  in  the  deafening  exhibition. 

In  Chicago,  the  celebration  was  the 
most  successful  affair  of  the  kind  that 
ever  took  place  in  that  city,  and,  probably, 
in  the  West,  although  it  was  almost  en- 
tirely impromptu.  The  procession  was 


unique  in  appearance  and  immense  in 
length,  being,  at  the  lowest  estimate,  four 
miles,  and  representing  all  classes,  associ- 
ations and  trades.  During  the  moving  of 
the  procession,  Vice-President  Colfax,  who 
was  visiting  the  city,  received  the  follow- 
ing dispatch,  dated  at  Promontory  Point : 
"The  rails  were  connected  to-day.  The 
prophecy  of  Benton  is  a  fact.  This  is  the 
way  to  India."  A  very  interesting  feat- 
ure in  the  procession  was  an  array  of  mail- 
wagons  with  post-office  employes,  and  sev- 
eral tons  of  mail  matter  in  bags,  labeled 
and  marked  as  if  bound  for  some  of  the 
large  cities  both  on  this  side  and  beyond 
the  Pacific  ocean.  Some  of  these  were 
marked  as  follows:  'Victoria,  Australia;' 
'Washington,  Oregon  (G.  D.  P.-O.);' 
'Yeddo,  Japan;'  'Pekin,  China  (G.  D. 
P.-O.);'  'Golden  City,  Colorado;'  'Den- 
ver, Colorado;'  'Santa  Fe,  New  Mexico;' 
'  Hong  Kong,  China,  via  Chicago ; '  '  Yo- 
kohama, Japan.'  In  the  evening,  Vice- 
President  Colfax,  Lieut.  Gov.  Bross,  and 
others,  addressed  a  vast  assembly,  speak- 
ing eloquently  of  the  great  era  in  Ameri- 
can history  ushered  in  by  the  event  of  the 
day.  The  marine  display  was  also  very 
fine. 

On  the  announcement  of  the  completion 
of  the  road  in  !New  York,  the  mayor  or- 
dered a  salute  of  one  hundred  guns,  and 
himself  saluted  the  mayor  of  San  Fran- 
cisco with  a  dispatch  conceived  in  the 
most  jubilant  spirit, — informing  him  that 
"our  flags  are  now  flying,  our  cannon  are 
now  booming,  and  in  old  Trinity  a  Te 
Deum  imparts  thankful  harmonies  to  the 
busy  hum  about  her  church  walls."  The 
Chambers  of  Commerce  of  the  two  cities 
also  exchanged  congratulations,  the  New 
York  chamber  recognizing  in  the  new 
highway  an  agent  that  would  not  only 
"develop  the  resources,  extend  the  com- 
merce, increase  the  power,  exalt  the  dig- 
nity and  perpetuate  the  unity  of  our  re- 
public, but  in  its  broader  relations,  as  the 
segment  of  a  world-embracing  circle,  di- 
rectly connecting  the  nations  of  Europe 
with  those  of  Asia,  would  materially'.facili- 
tate  the  enlightened  and  advancing  civil- 


644 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


ization  of  our  age."  The  services  in  Trin- 
ity were  conducted  with  great  solemnity, 
in  the  presence  of  a  crowded  congregation. 
After  prayer,  and  the  reading  of  a  portion 
of  the  Episcopal  service,  the  organ  pealed 
forth  in  its  grandest  fullness  and  majesty, 
and,  as  the  assembly  dispersed,  the  church 
chimes  added  to  the  joyousness  of  the  oc- 
casion by  ringing  out  "  Old  Hundred,"  the 
"Ascension  Carol,"  and  the  national  airs. 

In  Philadelphia,  the  authorities  im- , 
provised  a  celebration  so  suddenly,  that 
the  ringing  of  the  bells  on  Independence 
Hall,  and  at  the  various  fire  stations,  was 
mistaken  for  a  general  alarm  of  fire,  till 
the  news  was  announced.  The  sudden 
flocking  of  the  people  to  the  State-house 
resembled  that  which  followed  the  recep- 
tion of  the  news  of  Lee's  surrender  to 
Grant.  In  many  other  towns  and  cities 
throughout  the  union,  the  event  was  cele- 
brated with  great  spirit.  Even  as  far  east 
as  Springfield,  Mass.,  the  jubilee  spirit 
was  carried  out.  The  entire  force  of  work- 
men of  Wason's  car  manufactory  in  that 
city  formed  a  procession,  headed  by  a  band 
and  accompanied  by  a  battery,  and  marched 
from  the  shops  of  the  company  through 
the  principal  streets,  each  man  bearing 
some  tool  or  implement  of  his  trade. 
Banners  bearing  '  Our  cars  unite  the  Atlan- 
tic and  Pacific,'  '  Four  hundred  car  builders 
celebrate  the  opening  of  the  Pacific  Rail- 
road,' '  For  San  Francisco,  connecting  with 
ferry  to  China,'  etc.,  were  conspicuous. 

Returning  to  the  scenes  at  Omaha,  that 
interesting  and  important  point  on  this 
trans-continental  highway,  the  day  was 
there  observed  by  such  an  outpouring  of 
the  people  as  had  never  before  been 
equaled.  The  morning  trains  from  the 
west  brought  the  fire  companies  and  the 
masonic  fraternity  from  Fremont,  and 
large  delegations  from  towns  and  settle- 
ments as  far  west  as  North  Platte.  Be- 
fore noon,  the  streets  were  filled  with  a 
multitude  anxiously  awaiting  the  signal 
from  Capitol  hill,  where  a  park  of  artillery 
was  stationed  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
observatory,  to  enable  it  to  fire  a  salute 
the  moment  the  telegraphic  signals  an- 


nounced that  the  last  spike  had  been 
driven.  A  grand  procession  was  one  of 
the  marked  features  of  the  day ;  and,  at 
about  half-past  one,  the  booming  of  one 
hundred  guns,  the  ringing  of  bells,  and 
the  shrieking  of  the  whistles  of  steamers 
and  locomotives,  proclaimed  that  Omaha 
and  Sacramento  were  forever  united  by 
iron  bands,  and  that  now  had  been  opened 
a  highway  from  the  gates  of  the  east  to 
the  realms  of  sunset  itself. 

Thus,  in  the  consummation  of  this 
mightiest  work  of  utility  ever  undertaken 
by  man,  a  journey  around  the  world  be- 
came a  tour  both  easy  and  brief.  The  city 
of  San  Francisco  could  be  reached  from 
New  York,  in  less  than  seven  days,  run- 
ning time.  Arrived  there,  the  finest 
ocean  steamers  in  the  world,  each  one  of 
some  four  or  five  thousand  tons,  awaited 
the  traveler,  to  take  him,  in  twenty-one 
days,  or  less,  to  Yokohama,  and  thence,  in 
six  days  more,  to  any  part  of  China. 
From  Hong  Kong  to  Calcutta  required 
some  fourteen  days  by  several  lines  of 
steamers  touching  at  Singapore,  Ceylon, 
Madras,  or  ports  on  the  coast  of  Burmah. 
From  Calcutta,  a  railroad  runs  far  up  into 
the  north  of  India,  on  the  borders  of 
Cashmere  and  Affghanistan,  and  running 
through  northern  India,  Benares,  Alla- 
habad, etc.  Another  road  intersects  at 
Allahabad,  more  than  six  hundred  miles 
above  Calcutta,  running  some  six  hundred 
miles  to  Bombay,  where  it  connects  with 
the  overland  route  to  and  from  Egypt,  in 
twelve  or  thirteen  days  by  steamer  and 
rail  from  Bombay  to  Cairo.  From  Cairo, 
almost  any  port  in  Europe  on  the  Medi- 
terranean could  be  reached  in  from  three  to 
five  days,  and  home  again  in  twelve  days 
more,  making  the  actual  traveling  time 
around  the  world  only  seventy-eight  days. 

More  wonderful  still,  a  trans-continental 
train,  which  left  New  York  early  on  the 
morning  of  June  1st,  1876,  reached  San 
Francisco  at  twenty-five  minutes  past  nine, 
June  4th,  in  the  morning ;  thus  accom- 
plishing the  journey  in  eighty-three  hours 
and  twenty  minutes,  without  stoppages 
and  without  accident 


LXXVIL 

THIRTY    THOUSAND    MILES    OF    RAILWAY    IN    THIRTY 

YEARS,    AND   EIGHTY    THOUSAND    IN   HALF   A 

CENTURY.— 1859. 


Curious  Chronicles  Relating  to  the  Introduction  of  Improved  Means  of  Transit. — The  Old  and  the  New.— 
Development  and  Progress. — Numerous  and  Important  Advantages. — Great  Saving  of  Time  aud 
Expense. — Initiatory  Undertakings  in  the  United  States. — First  American  Railway  with  Steam  as  the 
Locomotive  Power. — Small  Beginnings:  Great  Results. — Amazing  Growth  and  Expansion  in  all 
Directions. — Social  and  Business  Changes. — Infancy  of  Mechanism  in  this  Line. — Pioneer  Coach  and 
Locomotive. — Successive  Steps  of  Advancement. — Usual  Channels  of  Trade  Abandoned. — Power  of 
Capital  Demonstrated. —  Distant  Sections  and  Interests  Equalized. — Stimulus  to  Industry. — Vast 
Constructive  Works  Involved. — U.  S.  Enterprise  not  Behindhand. — "  Breaking  the  Ground." — Less  than 
20  Miles  in  1829. — Some  30,000  Miles  in  1859. — Constant  and  Rapid  Increase. — Inventive  Genius 
Displayed. — "Improvements"  by  the  Thousands. — Steel  Rails  Substituted  for  Iron. — Luxury  on 
Wheels. — Palace  and  Sleeping  Cars. — Tremendous  Speed  Attained  — American  and  Foreign  Lines. — 
Railways  16,000  Feet  Above  the  Sea. 


"  Soon  *halt  thy  power,  unconquered  Steam  1  afar 
Drag  the  swift  barge  and  drive  the  rapid  car.1 


DARWIN.— {more  than  one  hundrtj  years  ago.) 


I  EEHAPS  no  invention  of  the  pres- 
ent century, — it  has  been  well  re 
marked  hy  the  eminent  Dr.  Bake- 
well, — has  produced  such  wide- 
spread social  and  business  changes 
as  that  of  steam  locomotion  on 
railways.  Not  only  have  places 
that  were  formerly  more  than  a 
day's  journey  from  each  other 
been  made  accessible  in  a  very 
few  hours,  but  the  cost  of  travel- 
ing has  been  so  much  reduced, 
that  the  expense  has  in  a  great 
degree  long  ceased  to  operate  as 
a  bar  to  communication  by  rail- 
way for  business  or  pleasure,  and 
the  usual  channels  of  trade  have 
been  most  profitably  abandoned 
or  superseded,  with  the  greatest  benefit  to  every  interest  involved. 

As  already  remarked,  in  estimating  the  importance  and  advantage  of  railway  travel- 


TRAVELERS'   DEPENDENCE   IN  FORMER  TIMES. 


646 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


ing,  there  must  not  be  omitted  its  cheap- 
ness and  comfort,  compared  with  travel- 
ing by  stage  coach.  There  are  occasion- 
ally to  be  found,  it  is  true,  even  at  this 
late  day,  persons  who  look  back  with  re- 
gret to  the  old  coach  ;  and  it  is  not  to  be 
denied  that  railways  have  taken  away  much 
of  that  peculiar  romance  of  traveling,  and 
much  of  the  exhilarating  pleasure  that  was 


various  ways  concentrating  the  energies 
of  a  people,  and  thus  enlarging  materially 
their  wealth,  comforts  and  social  inter- 
course. 

Of  no  inferior  consideration,  too,  in  re- 
lation to  the  grand  invention  of  steam 
railway  travel,  are  the  many  subsidiary 
works  which  have  been  created  during  its 
progress  toward  perfection,  and  which 


LOCOMOTIVE   "ROCKET,"    1829. 


experienced  when  passing  through  a  beau- 
tiful country  on  the  top  of  a  well-horsed 
coach  in  fine  weather.  The  many  inci- 
dents and  adventures  that  gave  variety  to 
the  journey  were,  it  is  true,  pleasant 
enough  for  a  short  distance  ;  but  two  days 
and  a  night  on  the  top  of  a  coach,  exposed 
to  cold  and  rain,  or  cramped  up  inside, 
with  no  room  to  stir  the  body  or  the  legs, 
was  accompanied  with  an  amount  of  suf- 
ering  which  those  who  have  experienced  it 
would  willingly  exchange  for  a  seat,  even 
in  a  second  or  third-class  railway  car.  In 
a  business  as  well  as  a  social  point  of  view, 
also,  railways  have  made  a  powerful  mark, 
— tending,  as  they  do,  to  equalize  the 
value  of  land  throughout  immense  regions, 
by  bringing  distant  sources  of  supply 
nearer  the  points  of  demand ;  giving  ex- 
traordinary impetus  to  manufacturing  in- 
dustry; and  connecting  all  parts  of  a 
country  more  closely  together ; — in  these 


have  contributed  so  vastly  to  its  success. 
Thus,  tunnels,  of  a  size  never  before  con- 
templated, have  penetrated  for  miles 
through  hard  rocks,  or  through  shifting 
clays  and  sands;  embankments  and  via- 
ducts have  been  raised  and  erected,  on 
a  scale  of  magnitude  surpassing  any 
former  similar  works  ;  bridges  of  stupen- 
dous proportions  and  of  wonderfully  in- 
genious adaptation,  have  been  constructed 
to  meet  special  exigencies,  in  some  cases 
carrying  railways  over  straits  of  the  sea, 
or  other  waters,  through  gigantic  tubes — 
or,  in  other  cases,  across  rivers,  suspended 
from  rods  supported  by  curiously  devised 
piers  and  girders;  &c.,  &c. 

That  the  history  of  railways  shows  what 
grand  results  may  have  their  origin  in 
small  beginnings,  is  no  less  true  than  that 
the  power  of  capital  is  seen  in  this  as  in 
all  other  great  material  enterprises.  In 
j  evidence  of  the  former  truth,  Dr.  Lyell 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


647 


mentions  the  interesting,  though  of  course 
well-known,  fact,  that,  when  coal  was  first 
conveyed  in  the  neighborhood  of  New- 
castle-on-Tyne,  from  the  pit  to  the  ship- 
ping place,  the  pack  horse,  carrying  a 
burden  of  three  hundred  weight,  was  the 
only  mode  of  transport  employed  ;  as  soon 
as  roads  suitable  for  wheeled  carriages 
were  formed,  carts  were  introduced,  and 
this  first  step  in  mechanical  appliance  to 
facilitate  transport  had  the  effect  of  in- 
creasing the  load  which  the  horse  was 
enabled  to  carry,  from  three  hundred  to 
seventeen  hundred  weight.  The  next  im- 
provement consisted  in  laying  wooden  bars 
or  rails  for  the  wheels  of  carts  to  run  upon, 
and  this  was  followed  by  the  substitution 
of  the  four-wheeled  wagon  for  the  two- 
wheeled  cart ;  by  this  further  application 
of  mechanical  principles,  the  original 


the  superb  steel  rails  of  later  days.  Of 
the  locomotive  engine,  which  makes  it 
possible  to  convey  a  load  of  hundreds  of  tons 
at  a  cost  of  fuel  scarcely  exceeding  that  of 
the  provender  which  the  original  pack-horse 
consumed  in  conveying  its  load  of  three 
hundred  pounds  an  equal  distance,  it  may 
justly  be  called  one  of  the  crowning 
achievements  of  mechanical  science.  Thus, 
the  railway  system,  like  all  other  compre- 
hensive inventions,  has  risen  to  its  present 
importance  by  a  series  of  steps, — in  fact, 
so  gradual  has  been  this  progress,  that  the 
system  finds  itself  committed,  even  at  the 
present  day,  to  a  gauge  fortuitously  de- 
termined by  the  distance  between  the 
wheels  of  the  carts  for  which  wooden  rails 
were  originally  laid  down,  though  this  is 
now  being  superseded  by  a  narrower  gauge, 
to  a  considerable  extent.  Nor  is  the  in- 


LOCOMOTIVE  OF  TO-DAY. 


horse  load  of  three  hundred  weight  was 
augmented  to  forty-two  hundred.  These 
were  indeed  important  results,  and  they 
were  not  obtained  without  the  shipwreck 
of  many  a  fortune. 

The  next  step  of  progress  in  this  direc- 
tion was  the  attachment  of  slips  of  iron  to 
the  wooden  rails.  Then  came  the  iron 
tramway, — the  upright  flange  of  the  bar 
acting,  in  this  arrangement,  as  a  guide  to 
keep  the  wheel  on  the  track.  The  next 
advance  was  an  important  one,  and  con- 
sisted in  transferring  the  guiding  flange 
from  the  rail  to  the  wheel,  an  improve- 
ment which  enabled  cast  iron  edge  rails  to 
be  used.  Finally,  in  1820,  after  the  lapse 
of  many  years  from  the  first  employment 
of  wooden  bars,  wrought  iron  rails,  rolled 
in  long  lengths,  and  of  suitable  section, 
were  made,  and  in  time  superseded  all 
other  forms  of  railway,  coming  finally  to 


teresting  fact  to  pass  unnoticed,  namely, — 
the  promptness  with  which  man's  inven- 
tive faculty  supplies  whatever  device  the 
circumstances  of  the  moment  may  require. 
No  sooner  is  a  road  formed  fit  for  wheeled 
carriages  to  pass  along,  than  the  cart  takes 
the  place  of  the  pack-saddle  ;  no  sooner  is 
the  wooden  railway  provided,  than  the 
wagon  is  substituted  for  the  cart;  no 
sooner  is  an  iron  railway  formed,  capable 
of  carrying  heavy  loads,  than  the  locomo- 
tive engine  is  ready  to  commence  its 
wonderful  career  ; — and  so  on,  ad  indefi- 
nituru. 

The  characteristic  enterprise  of  Ameri- 
cans did  not  fail  them  in  this  era  of  trans- 
formation and  advancement.  The  first 
railroad  attempted  in  the  United  States 
was  a  crude  and  temporary  affair  in  Bos- 
ton— a  double-track  arrangement  for  re- 
moving gravel  from  lieacon  Kill,  and  so 


648 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IX  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


contrived  that,  while  one  train  descended 
the  hill  with  its  load,  the  empty  train 
would  thereby  be  hauled  up  for  loading. 
A  more  positive  effort  in  this  line,  and 
more  really  deserving  the  name  of  a  rail- 
way— and  consequently  honored  by  his- 
torians with  the  term  of  priority — was 
that  constructed  in  Quincy,  Mass.,  for  the 
purpose  of  transporting  granite  from  the 
quarry  at  that  place  to  the  Neponset  river, 
a  distance  of  about  four  miles ;  it  was  a 
single  track  road,  with  a  width  of  five  feet 
between  the  rails,  the  latter  being  of  pine, 
covered  with  oak,  and  overlaid  with  thin 
plates  of  wrought  iron ;  and  the  passage 
from  the  quarry  to  the  landing,  of  a  car 
carrying  ten  tons,  with  a  single  horse,  was 


Among  the  early  undertakings  of  this 
character,  on  an  extensive  and  costly  scale, 
was  the  Boston  and  Lowell  railroad,  con- 
structed in  the  most  substantial  manner 
of  stone  and  iron,  and  which,  on  its  com- 
pletion, was  visited  by  strangers  from  all 
places,  as  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  at- 
traction in  the  metropolis  of  New  Eng- 
land. 

The  following  extract  from  a  Lowell 
newspaper  of  that  day,  giving  an  account 
of  the  '  breaking  of  the  ground'  in  that  vil- 
lage (for  village  it  then  was,)  for  this  enter- 
prise,  possesses  sufficient  interest  to  entitle 
it  to  preservation  :  '  The  excavation 
which  is  now  about  being  made  in  a  hill 
in  this  place  for  the  bed  of  the  contem- 


OEIOINAL  STEAM   CAR. 


performed  in  an  hour.  This  was  com- 
pleted in  1827,  and  the  affair  created  much 
interest. 

The  first  use  of  a  locomotive  in  this  coun- 
try was  in  1829,  and  was  used  on  the  rail- 
road built  by  the  Delaware  and  Hudson 
company.  From  this  fairly  dates,  there- 
fore, American  railway  travel  with  steam 
as  the  locomotive  power.  So  popular  was 
this  means  of  transit,  however,  that,  in 
thirty  years  from  the  time  of  its  small  be- 
ginning, more  than  thirty  thousand  miles 
of  the  iron  road  traversed  the  country  in 
different  directions  ;  this  number  of  miles 
increasing  to  some  eighty  thousand  in  1879, 
with  nearly  fifteen  thousand  locomotives, 
ana  a  capital  of  rising  four  and  a  half 
billions. 


plated  railway,  may  be  considered,  next  to 
the  various  manufacturing  establishments, 
the  most  wonderful  'lion'  of  the  place. 
This  hill  is  near  the  terminus  of  the  rail- 
way, in  the  neighborhood  of  the  brewery, 
but  not  in  a  populous  part  of  the  town. 
It  consists  of  a  ledge  of  rock,  which  is 
about  three  hundred  yards  in  length,  and 
the  average  depth  of  the  excavation  is 
about  forty  feet.  It  is  thirty  feet  wide  at 
the  bottom,  and  sixty  at  the  top,  aud  the 
masses  of  stone  which  have  already  been 
riven  from  the  ledge  by  blasting,  seem  to  be 
immense.  A  contract  was  originally  made 
with  a  person  to  effect  a  sufficient  passage 
through  this  hill,  for  the  sum  of  seventy- 
two  thousand  dollars.  He  commenced  the 
undertaking,  employed  sixty  workmen  for 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IX  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


649 


about  four  months — and  failed.  Another 
person  then  undertook  to  finish  the  work 
for  the  same  amount ;  but  after  a  few 
months,  lie  also  abandoned  the  undertak- 
ing. Those  individuals  are  said  to  have 
both  been  acquainted  with  the  nature  of 
the  business  which  they  undertook,  but 
they  were  deceived  by  the  quality  of  the 
rock,  which  consists  principally  of  gneiss 
and  mica,  through  which,  although  much 
lighter  and  softer  than  limestone  or 
granite,  it  was  found  much  more  difficult 
and  expensive  to  effect  a  passage,  than  if 
it  were  composed  of  those  more  solid  ma- 


the  drill '  The  difference  of  means  and 
methods  peculiar  to  that  period,  as  com- 
pared with  those  employed  at  the  present 
day,  in  undertakings  of  this  description, 
will  readily  suggest  itself  to  the  reader. 

The  constant  and  rapid  increase  in  the 
construction  of  railway  lines  constituted, 
thenceforth,  a  great  feature  for  national 
progress,  and  the  inventive  genius  of  the 
country  displayed  in  this  direction  soon 
became  correspondingly  active, — so  much 
so,  in  fact,  that  many  scores  of  thousands 
of  mechanical  improvements  are  now  re- 
corded in  the  Patent  Office  at  Washington. 


MODERN   RAILWAY  CAB. 


terials.  The  drilling  may  not  be  so  diffi- 
cult ;  but  the  rocks,  lying  in  horizontal 
strata,  almost  defy  the  power  of  gunpow- 
der, so  that  heavy  blasts,  which  would 
shiver  an  immense  mass  of  granite,  are 
frequently  found  here  to  produce  but  little 
effect.  In  addition  to  this,  the  ledge  is 
found  to  be  full  of  springs  of  water  which 
sometimes  render  it  necessary  for  the 
workmen  to  expend  much  time,  and  exer- 
cise no  inconsiderable  ingenuity,  in  coun- 
teracting its  effects.  There  are  also  found 
in  the  lower  part  of  the  ledge,  huge 
masses  of  quartz,  and  a  species  of  rock 
composed  almost  entirely  of  hornblende, 
which  is,  of  course,  almost  impenetrable  to 


Some  of  the  principal  lines  constructed  soon 
after,  or  nearly  cotemporary  with,  the  above 
named,  were  the  Boston  and  Worcester, 
Boston  and  Providence,  Hudson  and  Mo- 
hawk, Saratoga  and  Schenectady,  Ithaca 
and  Susqnehanna,  Ithaca  and  Catskill, 
Catskill  and  Canajoharie,  New  York  and 
Erie,  New  York  and  Albany,  Camden  and 
Amboy,  Baltimore  and  Ohio,  Lake  Cham- 
plain  and  Ogdensburgh, — and  so  the  list 
might  be  well-nigh  indefinitely  extended, 
coming  down  to  those  magnificent  lines  of  a 
later  day  which  span  the  wide  continent, 
bringing  the  remotest  sections  of  the  East, 
the  West,  the  North,  and  the  Soutl  into 
immediate  proximity,  and  uniting,by  bands 


650  EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


of  iron  and  steel,  "our  whole  country, 
however  bounded." 

It  would  certainly  be  a  difficult  task  to 
describe  the  '  luxury  on  wheels  '  exhibited 
in  the  construction  and  equipment  of  the 
railway  caro  which  now  convey  passengers 
on  all  the  principal  lines, — palace  cars, 
drawing-room  cars,  etc.,  as  they  are  truly 
called,  and  costing,  in  frequent  instances, 
twenty  thousand  dollars  each ;  or  the  mag- 
nificent and  powerful  locomotives,  built  at 
an  expense,  in  many  cases,  equal  to  that 
of  a  first-class  city  residence  ;  the  superb 
and  durable  steel  rails ;  the  continuous 
power-brakes ;  steel  and  steel-tired  car 
wheels  f  electric  signals  ;  the  contrivances 
for  lighting  and  warming  ; — nothing  short 
of  a  whole  volume  would  afford  space  ade- 
quate to  any  suitable  description  of  these 
and  a  thousand  kindred  matters  pertaining 
to  the  railway  system  of  the  present  day. 

The  highest  speed  of  railway  trains  pos- 
sesses, in  the  popular  rather  than  the  scien- 
tific view,  a  peculiar  interest,  and  some 
comparisons  have  been  made,  in  this  re- 
spect, between  onr  American  and  the 
British  and  other  European  roads.  Among 
the  latter,  the  '  Flying  Dutchman '  has 
been  considered  the  fastest  train — for  a 
comparatively  short  distance — in  the  world; 
that  is,  it  runs  from  London  to  Swindon, 
seventy-seven  miles,  in  eighty-seven  min- 
utes, being  at  the  rate  of  fifty-three  miles 
an  hour,  while  Exeter,  about  one  hundred 
and  ninety-four  miles,  is  reached  in  four 
and  one-quarter  hours,  giving  an  average 
pace  of  forty-five  and  one-half  miles  per 
hour.  Next  to  this  train  for  speed  is  the 
run  by  the  Great  Northern  Railway  to 
Peterborough,  when  the  average  rate  is 
fifty-one  miles,  while  the  two  hundred  and 
seventy-two  miles  to  Newcastle  is  traveled 
in  six  hours  and  twenty  minutes,  or  at 
forty-three  miles  an  hour.  The  limited 
mails  of  the  London  and  Northwestern, 
while  running  to  Edinburgh  northward, 
and  Holyhead  westward,  have  trains  trav- 
eling the  four  hundred  and  one  and  two 
hundred  and  sixty-four  miles  respectively 
at  a  pace  of  forty  miles  an  hour.  The 
Midland  conveys  its  passengers  to  Leices- 


ter, ninety-seven  and  a  half  miles,  at  a  rate 
of  forty-four  and  three-quarters  miles  per 
hour.  The  London  and  Brighton,  by  their 
fast  trains,  run  to  London  by  the  sea  in 
an  hour  and  ten  minutes,  the  rate  being 
forty-three  miles  an  hour.  On  the  Conti- 
nent no  such  paces  as  the  above  are  met 
with.  The  French  express  from  Calais  to 
Paris  is  known  as  the  fastest  French  train, 
doing  thirty-seven  miles  an  hour  on  an 
average,  while,  from  Paris  to  Marseilles,  a 
distance  of  five  hundred  and  thirty-seven 
miles,  travelers  are  conveyed  at  the  rate  of 
thirty-four  miles  an  hour.  Swiss  railways 
are  slow,  expresses  only  attaining  a  speed 
of  twenty-two  miles  an  hour.  In  Belgium, 
the  highest  speed  is  thirty-three  miles  an 
hour,  and  in  Holland  about  the  same. 
From  Berlin  to  St.  Petersburg,  one  thou- 
sand and  twenty-eight  miles,  is  traversed 
in  forty-six  hours,  the  pace  being  twenty- 
two  and  a  half  miles  an  hour.  In  our  own 
country,  forty  or  fifty  miles  an  hour  may 
be  said  to  be  the  maximum  rate  attained — 
excepting  on  a  few  special  occasions, — the 
average  speed  being  much  less,  nor  does 
the  popular  demand  seem  to  favor  an  ex- 
cessive pace. 

Among  the  various  requirements  of  the 
railway  system  at  present,  so  that  the  de- 
fects now  experienced  in  such  traveling 
may  be  remedied,  the  following  may  be 
enumerated  :  First  and  foremost,  the  adop- 
tion of  what  is  known  as  the  '  block  '  sys- 
tem, in  its  most  rigorous  form,  should  be 
made  compulsory ;  greater  brake  power 
should  be  introduced;  double  couplings 
should  be  provided  for  all  cars  and  trucks 
when  traveling  from  one  station  to  another, 
even  if  the  use  of  single  couplings,  to  save 
time,  be  allowed  during  shunting  opera- 
tions ;  foot-boards  should  be  continuous, 
and  made  so  as  to  overlap  platforms  ;  lock- 
ing of  car  doors  on  both  sides  should  be 
prohibited  under  all  circumstances,  even 
when  a  train  is  stationary,  and,  when  it  is 
in  motion,  both  doors  should  in  all  cases 
be  unlocked  ;  the  consecutive  hours  of  duty 
for  signalmen  should  be  limited  to  six,  and 
the  maximum  for  one  day  at  such  a  post, 
even  with  an  interlude,  should  be  ten; 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY 


651 


and  finally,  a  system  of  telegraphic  com- 
munication, whether  automatic  or  worked 
by  hand,  at  both  ends,  should  be  enforced 
between  signal  and  signal-box. 

One  of  the  most  interesting,  as  well  as 
most  recent,  railway  achievements,  and 
deserving  of  historical  record,  is  the  line 
across  the  main  ridge  of  the  Andes,  be- 
tween Lima  and  Oroya.  This  remarkable 
engineering  work  comprises  about  one 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  of  road,  and  is 
intended  as  a  first  step  towards  bringing 
the  rich  and  fertile  interior  of  the  country 
east  of  the  Andes  into  easy  communication 
with  the  capital  and  the  ports  of  the  Pa- 
cific. Thb  crest  of  the  Andes  is  traversed 
by  means  of  a  short  tunnel,  at  an  altitude 
of  nearly  sixteen  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea  level, — the  steep  and  irregular  slope 
up  to  this  point  being  ascended  by  a  series 
of  sharp  curves  and  reversed  tangents,  and 
the  deep  ravines  spanned  by  bridges,  one  of 
these  being  some  two  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  feet  high. 

It  is  the  judgment  of  the  best  authori- 
ties in  these  matters,  that,  as  there  is  no 
part  of  the  world  where  railroads  have 
been  such  an  important  agency  in  material 
development  as  has  been  the  case  in  the 
United  States,  so  it  is  a  fact,  also,  that  no- 
where else  has  there  been  greater  progress 
in  the  art  of  railway  construction  or  in  the 
business  of  railway  administration  and 
management  Of  the  one  hundred  and 
eighty-five  thousand  miles  of  railway  in 
the  world,  which  had  been  completed  in 
the  half  century  succeeding  their  intro- 
duction, nearly  one-half  belonged  in  the 
United  States, — a  preponderance  which, 
having  reference  to  territorial  area,  must 
be  considered  very  great,  but,  as  compared 
with  the  populations,  is  really  enormous. 

In  the  very  able  report  on  this  subject 
by  Mr.  Vf.  A.  Anderson,  whose  large  ac- 
quaintance with  European  railways  enabled 
him  to  form  the  most  reliable  conclusions, 
the  opinion  is  expressed  that,  with  vast 
regions  urgently  demanding  the  speedy 
construction  of  new  roads  as  the  line  of 
civilization  has  moved  across  the  continent, 
with  the  needs  of  the  older  settled  portion 


of  the  country  not  by  any  means  supplied, 
and  with  that  impatience  of  delay  and 
eagerness  of  enterprise  which  are  charac- 
teristic of  the  American  people,  it  is  not 
surprising  that  there  should  be  much  that 
is  crude  and  superficial  in  many  of  the 
railway  works  of  such  a  country ;  but, 
when  the  relative  cost  of  construction,  the 
wants  of  a  comparatively  new  and  partially 
developed  country,  and  the  nature  of  the 
means  available  for  railway  construction, 
are  considered,  the  fact  appears  that  Amer- 
ican railroads,  in  the  condition  of  their 
permanent  ways  and  of  their  rolling  stock, 
in  their  system  of  administration  and  in 
their  efficiency,  compare  quite  favorably 
with  those  of  any  other  country.  In  many 
respects  they  would  not  be  so  well  suited 
to  the  countries  and  populations  of  Europe 
as  are  the  modes  of  railroad  construction 
and  management  now  usually  prevailing 
in  those  countries.  Indeed,  the  character- 
istic social  relations,  and  the  wants  of  the 
people  and  needs  of  our  country,  are  so  dif- 
ferent from  those  of  European  nations, 
that  it  is  difficult  fairly  to  contrast  the 
European  railway  systems  with  the  Ameri- 
can,— each  being  marked  by  peculiarities 
of  special  adaptation  to  the  respective 
countries. 

There  are,  however,  some  striking  par- 
ticulars in  which  the  practice  of  European 
railways, — their  management  of  trains, 
their  plans  and  arrangement  of  cars  and 
coaches,  &c., — varies  from  that  pursued 
in  America,  but  which,  after  all,  involves 
only  different  yet  about  equally  good 
methods  for  reaching  the  same  results  as 
are  obtained  in  America  by  other  and  not 
always  superior  means.  Their  subdivision 
of  passenger  coaches  in  coupes  or  sectional 
compartments,  each  seating  six,  eight,  or 
ten  persons  when  full,  and  having  no 
means  of  direct  communication  with  each 
other  or  with  the  other  cars  of  the  train, 
is  one  of  the  features  peculiar  to  foreign 
roads,  and  another  which  may  be  men- 
tioned is  the  retiring  rooms  provided  at 
the  various  stations,  instead  of  having 
any  such  conveniences  upon  ordinary  pas- 
senger and  express  trains.  Other  features 


652 


EIGHTY  THOUSAND  MILES  IN  HALF  A  CENTURY. 


to  be  named  in  the  foreign  system  is  that 
of  having  guards  upon  passenger  trains, 
who  do  not  control  the  movements  of  the 
trains,  their  position  being  thus  quite  in- 
ferior to  that  of  the  American  conductor, 
and  the  management  of  their  trains  by 
telegraphic  signals  from  the  principal  sta- 
tions, as  is  the  case  upon  some  lines,  and 
which  is  found  to  be  such  an  effective 
safeguard. 

The  elevated  railway,  for  cities,  is  thus 
far  peculiar  to  America;  its  extensive  in- 
troduction, notwithstanding  its  acknowl- 
edged drawbacks,  seems  to  be  only  a  mat- 
ter of  time,  and  that  in  the  near  future. 


the  heads  of  pedestrians  and  on  awnings, 
to  the  diffusion  of  dirt  into  upper  windows, 
to  the  increased  danger  of  life  from  runa- 
way horses  and  the  breaking  of  vehicles 
against  the  iron  columns,  to  the  darkening 
of  lower  stories  and  shading  of  the  streets 
so  that  the  same  are  kept  damp  long  ;ifter 
wet  weather  has  ceased,  and  to  numerous 
other  accidents  and  annoyances  inherent 
to  such  a  system  of  traveling;  but  these 
inconveniences  and  risks  appear  to  have 
fallen  considerably  short  of  the  predictions, 
and  at  least  are  submitted  to  with  that 
facility  of  adaptation  to  the  inevitable, 
which  is  a  characteristic  trait  of  Americans. 


METROPOLITAN    ELEVATKD    RAILROAD,    NF.W    YORK. 


That  there  is  to  be  a  widely  extended 
introduction  of  elevated  railroads,  in  the 
populous  and  crowded  cities,  there  would 
seem  little  ground  for  doubting,  notwith- 
standing the  objections  which  were  at  first 
raised  against  such  a  mode  of  passenger 
transit.  In  the  city  of  New  York,  for  in- 
stance, it  was  declared  that,  for  the  privi- 
lege of  such  conveyance,  the  citizens  must 
habituate  themselves  to  trains  thundering 
over  their  heads,  to  thoroughfares  blocked 
with  great  iron  columns,  to  the  liberal  dis- 
tribution of  ashes  and  oil  and  sparks  upon 


The  capacities  of  inventors  have  re- 
ceived a  new  stimulus,  by  the  needs  of 
this  kind  of  locomotion,  and  many  and  in- 
teresting are  the  improvements  which  have 
been  brought  forward  already  in  this  direc- 
tion, relating  respectively  to  tracks,  cars, 
engines,  etc.  That  the  elevated  railroad 
has  a  great  future  before  it,  in  most  of  our 
great  and  crowded  cities,  would  appear  to 
be  unquestionable ;  for,  notwithstanding 
its  acknowledged  drawbacks,  it  is  admitted 
to  be  a  well  nigh  indispensable  public  con- 


venience. 


LXXVIII. 

BURNING    OF  THE   CITY   OF   CHICAGO,   ILL.,   THE   COM- 
MERCIAL  METROPOLIS   OF  THE   NORTH- 
WEST.—1871. 


Most  Destructive  Conflagration  in  the  History  of  Civilized  Nations. — A  Thirty  Hours'  Tornado  of  Fire 
in  all  Directions — Vast  Billows  of  Inextinguishable  Flame. — Upwards  of  Two  Thousand  Acres,  or 
Seventy-three  Miles  of  Streets,  with  17,460  Buildings,  Destroyed :  Loss,  $200,000,000.— Ignoble  Ori- 
gin of  the  Fire. — Fatal  Mistake  of  a  Policeman. — Combustibles  all  Around. — A  Strong  Gale  Prevail- 
ing.— Frightful  Rapidity  of  the  Flames. — Destruction  of  the  Water- Works — Stores  and  Warehouses 
Swept  Away.— Palaces  and  Hovels  a  Common  Prey. — Engines  Sent  from  Seven  States. — The  Mid- 
night Scene.— Terror  Indescribable. — Flight  for  Life.— Burning  of  the  Bridges. — Helplessness,  Des- 
peration, Death  —Churches,  Hotels,  Theaters,  in  Ashes  —Fate  of  the  Newspapers,  Banks,  etc. — 
Explosion  of  the  Gas- Works. — Tombs  and  Graves  Consumed. — Most  Ghastly  Spectacle.— Nearly 
100,000  Persons  Homeless. — The  Wail  for  Help. — A  World's  Sympathies  Poured  Forth. 


**  Blackened  and  bleeding,  panting,  prone 

On  the  charred  fragments  of  her  shattered  throne, 

Lies  she  who  stood,  but  yesterday,  alone."— BEET  HAETE. 


MK.   OGUEN'S  HOUSE   UNTOUCHED  IS   THE  MIDST  OF  THE  GREAT  FIRE. 

NT  Sunday  and  Monday,  October  eighth  and  ninth,  1871,  there 
occurred  in  Chicago,  the  great  commercial  metropolis  of  the 
north-west,  a  fire  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  the  world. 
The  fire  originated  in  a  small  frame  structure  in  the  rear  of 
No.  137  DeKoven  street,  used  as  a  cow-stable.  It  was  dis- 
covered at  about  half-past  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  by  a  policeman,  when  it  was 
very  small,  and  who,  hoping  to  extinguish  it  without  sounding  an  alarm,  set  himself  to 


654 


BURNING  OF  CHICAGO. 


work  to  do  so, — a  fatal  miscalculation,  as 
the  result  soon  proved.  A  strong  south- 
westerly wind  was  blowing  at  the  time ; 
no  rain  had  fallen  for  several  weeks  previ- 
ous ;  and  consequently  all  combustible 
matter  was  prepared  for  ready  ignition. 
It  was  also  a  portion  of  the  city  occupied 
by  the  poorer  classes,  principally  Bohe- 
mian emigrant  families,  and  being  in  the 
vicinity  of  several  planing  mills,  shingle 
mills,  and  factories,  had  collected  a  large 
quantity  of  shavings  from  these  places, 
and  stored  them  in  the  basements  and 
yards  of  their  premises  for  winter  use. 

All  the  fire  apparatus  of  the  city  was 
brought  into  requisition,  and,  considering 
the  difficulties  to  be  encountered,  the  cour- 
age and  energy  of  the  firemen  could  not 
be  surpassed.  They  had  just  passed 
through  a  severe  fire  twenty-four  hours 
previous,  and  part  of  the  companies  had 
left  the  scene  of  the  Saturday  night  fire 
but  a  few  hours,  when  they  were  again 
called,  exhausted  with  hard  labor,  to  this 
fearful  scene. 

The  flames  shot  with  frightful  rapidity 
from  house  to  house  and  from  board-yard 
to  board-yard,  ail  human  means  appearing 
utterly  powerless  to  stay  their  progress. 
On  they  went,  in  a  northerly  direction, 
covering  a  space  of  two  or  three  blocks  in 
width,  until  the  burnt  district  of  the  pre- 
vious night's  fire  was  reached,  and  this 
served  the  purpose  of  preventing  their 
farther  spread  on  the  west  side  of  the 
river.  Sweeping  every  thing  in  their 
course,  up  to  the  locality  named,  the 
flames  leaped  across  the  river,  and  vio- 
lently communicated  with  the  buildings 
there.  Quickly  they  traveled  north,  de- 
vouring everything  as  they  went,  until 
that  section  of  the  south  division  which 
embraced  nearly  all  the  grandest  struct- 
ures and  thoroughfares  was  reached,  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  encouragement  to 
farther  efforts  to  save  the  city  from  its 
fiery  doom.  Unfortunately,  one  of  the 
first  public  buildings  reached  by  the  fire 
was  the  water-works;  this  cut  off  the 
water  supply,  rendering  the  fire  depart- 
ment useless. 


The  awful  gale  which  prevailed  filled 
the  air  with  live  coals,  and  hurled  to  an 
immense  distance,  in  every  direction,  blaz- 
ing brands  and  boards,  —  a  widespread 
besom  of  furious  destruction.  All  of  the 
leading  banks  of  the  city,  several  of  the 
stone  church  edifices,  costly  and  elegant 
in  the  extreme;  the  beautiful  railroad 
depot  of  the  Michigan  Southern  and  the 
Hock  Island  railway  companies,  also  that 
of  the  Illinois  Central  and  the  Michigan 
Central  railroads  ;  the  court-house  and  the 
chamber  of  commerce  ;  the  Sherman,  Tre- 
mont,  Briggs,  Palmer,  Bigelow,  Metropol- 
itan, and  several  other  hotels,  as  well  as 
the  gigantic  Pacific,  which  was  in  process 
of  construction ;  all  the  great  newspaper 
establishments;  the  Crosby  opera-house, 
McVicker's  theater,  and  every  other  prom- 
inent place  of  amusement;  the  post-office, 
telegraph  offices,  Farwell  hall,  the  mag- 
nificent Drake-Farwell  block,  the  stately 
dry  goods  palaces  of  J.  V.  Farwell  &  Co., 
Field,  Leiter  &  Co.,  scores  of  elegant  resi- 
dences in  Wabash  and  Michigan  avenues, 
numbers  of  elevators  in  which  were  stored 
millions  of  bushels  of  grain ;  in  fact,  all 
that  the  hand  of  man  had  fashioned  or 
reared  was  completely  swept  away,  as  the 
fire  madly  rushed  to  the  north. 

With  tremendous  force,  the  mighty  and 
uncontrollable  element,  rushing  to  the 
main  channel  of  the  river,  near  its  en- 
trance into  Lake  Michigan,  consumed  the 
bridges,  and  attacked  the  north  division 
with  relentless  fury.  All  day,  on  Mon- 
day, and  through  the  succeeding  night,  it 
waged  its  work  of  devastation,  advancing, 
with  wonderful  speed,  from  block  to  block, 
and  from  street  to  street,  over  a  vast  sur- 
face, sparing  scarcely  anything.  The 
destruction  of  palatial  residences  and  mag- 
nificent churches  continued,  while  stores 
and  dwellings  by  the  hundreds,  together 
with  the  costly  water-works,  the  north  side 
gas-works,  Rush  medical  college,  the  Chi- 
cago and  North-western  railway  depot,  sev- 
eral immense  breweries,  coal  yards,  lum- 
ber yards,  and  manufacturing  establish- 
ments of  various  kinds,  and  in  great 
numbers,  yielded  to  the  resistless  enemy. 


BURNING  OF  CHICAGO. 


855 


By  midnight,  nearly  the  entire  popula- 
tion of  the  city  had  been  aroused,  and  the 
streets,  for  an  immense  distance  surround- 
ing the  scene  of  the  disaster,  were  thronged 
with  excited,  swaying  humanity,  and  with 
all  descriptions  of  vehicles,  pressed  into 
service  for  the  hasty  removal  of  household 
goods  and  personal  effects ;  loading  and 
unloading,  here,  and  there,  and  every- 
where, was  going  on  in  promiscuous  con- 
fusion. Invalids  and  cripples  were  car- 
ried away  on  improvised  ambulances; 
aged  women  and  helpless  infants  were 
hastily  borne  to  places  of  supposed  safety  ; 
people  who  were  utterly  overcome  with 
excitement  and  fatigue  were  seen  sleeping 
on  lounges,  trunks  and  tables,  in  the 
street ;  and  empty  houses  were  forcibly 
broken  open  and  taken  possession  of  by 
homeless  wanderers,  made  desperate  by  the 
awful  surroundings. 

One  of  the  most  fearfully  thrilling 
scenes  of  the  great  conflagration,  as  nar- 
rated, occurred  in  the  eastern  section  of 
the  north  division.  When  it  became  ap- 
parent that  all  hope  of  saving  the  city  was 
lost,  after  the  flames  had  pushed  down  to 
the  main  branch  of  the  river,  the  citizens 
of  the  north  side,  who  were  over  to  see  the 
main  theater  of  the  fire,  thought  it  time 
to  go  over  to  their  own  division,  and  save 
what  they  could.  Accordingly,  they  beat 
a  rapid  retreat  toward  the  tunnel  and 
bridges.  The  former  of  these  thorough- 
fares was  impassable  at  three  o'clock. 
Clark  street  had  not  been  opened  for  some 
time,  and  State  street  was  in  a  blaze  from 
one  end  to  the  other.  Rush  street  bridge 
proved  to  be  the  only  means  of  getting 
away  from  the  south  side,  and  over  that 
bridge  the  affrighted  fugitives  poured  in 
thousands.  Their  flight  was  not  quicker 
than  was  the  advance  of  the  flames.  The 
latter  jumped  the  river  with  miraculous 
swiftness,  and  ran  along  the  northern  sec- 
tion like  lightning.  So  rapid  was  the 
march  of  the  fiery  element,  driven  by  the 
Jieavy  gale,  that  the  people  were  glad 
enough  to  escape  unscathed.  Everything 
was  abandoned.  Horses  and  wagons  were 
used  merely  as  a  means  of  flight.  Few 


persons  in  the  direct  course  of  the  fire 
thought  about  saving  anything  but  their 
lives  and  those  of  their  families,  such  were 
the  speed,  and  power,  and  omnipresence  of 
the  destroyer.  Having  reached  Chicago 
avenue,  the  conflagration  took  an  eastward 
turn,  and  cut  off  from  flight  northward  all 
who  remained  in  the  unburned  section  ly- 
ing between  Dearborn  street  and  the  lake. 
The  inhabitants  of  that  district  flattered 
themselves  that  their  homes  might  escape 
the  general  destruction.  But  the  gale 
changed  its  course  in  a  few  minutes  more 
toward  the  east,  and  the  entire  quarter  of 
the  city  specified  became  a  frightful  pen, 
having  a  wall  of  fire  on  three  sides  and  the 
fierce  rolling  lake  on  the  other. 

And  now  a  scene  transpired,  which,  as 
described,  was  scarcely  ever  equaled. 
The  houses  were  abandoned  in  all  haste. 
Into  wagons  were  thrown  furniture,  cloth- 
ing, and  bedding.  Mothers  caught  up 
their  infants  in  their  arms.  Men  dragged 
along  the  aged  and  helpless,  and  the  en- 
tire horror-stricken  multitude  beat  their 
course  to  the  sands.  It  was  a  hegira 
never  to  be  forgotten. 

Even  the  homes  of  the  dead  were  sought 
for  as  food  by  the  all-devouring  element ; 
for,  after  ravaging  to  the  limits  of  the 
city,  and  with  the  wind  dead  against  it, 
the  fire  caught  the  dried  grasses,  ran  along 
the  fences,  and  in  a  moment  covered  in  a 
burning  glory  the  Catholic  cemetery  and 
the  grassy  stretches  of  Lincoln  park. 
The  marbles  over  the  graves  cracked  and 
baked,  and  fell  in  glowing  embers  on  the 
hot  turf.  Flames  shot  up  from  the  rest- 
ing places  of  the  dead,  and  the  living  fugi- 
tives, screaming  with  terror,  made,  for  a 
moment,  one  of  the  ghastliest  spectacles 
ever  beheld.  The  receiving-vault,  solidly 
built,  and  shrouded  by  foliage,  fell  under 
the  terrific  flame,  and  the  corpses  dropped 
or  burst  from  the  coffins,  as  the  fire  tore 
through  the  walls  of  the  frightful  charnel- 
house. 

On  the  fire  obtaining  strong  and  over- 
powering headway,  the  flames  seemed  to 
go  in  all  directions ;  in  some  places,  like 
huge  waves,  dashing  to  and  fro,  leaping 


656 


BURNING  OF  CHICAGO. 


up  and  down,  turning  and  twisting,  and 
pouring,  now  and  then,  a  vast  column  of 
smoke  and  blaze  hundreds  of  feet  into  the 
air,  like  a  solid,  perpendicular  shaft  of 
molten  metal.  In  other  places,  it  would 
dart  out  long  streaks  or  serpentine  shapes, 
which  swooped  down  over  the  blazing  path 
into  some  of  the  yet  unburnt  buildings, 
which  seemed  pierced,  and  kindled  instan- 
taneously. There  were  also  billows  of 
flame,  that  rolled  along  like  water,  utterly 
submerging  everything  in  their  course. 
Here  and  there,  when  some  lofty  building 
became  sheeted  in  flame,  the  walls  would 
weaken  and  waver  like  india-rubber;  they 
sometimes  swayed  almost  across  the  street, 
and  immediately  fell  with  a  direful  crash  ; 
a  momentary  darkness  followed,  and  then 
fresh  glares  of  light  from  a  newly  kindled 
fire.  The  kerosene-oil  stores  made  an 
awful  but  sublime  display,  as  the  tower- 
ing flames  rolled  aloft,  seeming  to  pene- 
trate the  very  heavens. 

The  huge  iron  reservoir  of  the  gas-works 
exploded  with  tremendous  force  and  sound, 
demolishing  the  adjacent  buildings,  and 
the  very  earth  seemed  actually  belching 
out  fire.  The  walls  of  white  marble,  the 
buff  limestone  of  Illinois,  the  red  and  olive 
sandstones  of  Ohio  and  Marquette,  the 
speckled  granite  of  Minnesota,  and  the  blue 
Lockport  limestone  of  New  York,  all  ap- 
peared to  suffer  about  alike  in  the  ravag- 
ing element.  Everything  the  power  of 
wind  and  flame  could  level  met  that  doom  ; 
everything  it  could  lift  was  swept  away. 
The  furious  fire  consumed  its  own  smoke, 
leaving  but  few  traces  of  stain  upon  the 
bare  standing  walls. 

Tn  a  comparatively  short  space  of  time, 
nearly  all  the  public  buildings  were  either 
Consumed  or  in  flames, — hotels,  theaters, 
churches,  court-house,  railway  depots, 
banks,  water-works,  gas-works,  and  thou- 
sands of  dwellings,  stores,  warehouses,  and 
manufactories,  with  all  their  vast  and  val- 
uable contents,  were  whelmed  in  one  com- 
mon vortex  of  ruin.  The  fire  engines 
were  powerless.  The  streams  of  water 
appeared  to  dry  up  the  moment  they 
touched  the  flames.  An  attempt  was 


made  to  blow  up  the  buildings ,  but  this 
availed  little,  the  high  wind  carrying  the 
flaming  brands  far  across  the  space  thus 
cleared  away.  To  add  to  the  horrors  of 
the  scene,  the  wooden  pavements  in  some 
places  took  fire,  driving  the  firemen  from 
stations  where  their  precious  efforts  might 
possibly  have  been  available.  But  noth- 
ing could  long  resist  the  terrible  heat  of 
the  flames,  which  seemed  to  strike  right 
through  the  most  solid  walls.  Buildings 
supposed  to  be  absolutely  fire-proof  burned 
like  tinder,  and  crumbled  to  pieces  like 
charred  paper.  Engines  and  fire-appa- 
ratus had  arrived  from  seven  different 
States,  and  the  working  force  was  prodig- 
ious, but  all  this  was  of  no  avail. 

According  to  the  most  reliable  estimate, 
the  number  of  acres  burned  over  in  the 
West  Division  of  the  city,  where  the  fire 
originated,  was  nearly  two  hundred,  in- 
cluding sixteen  acres  which  were  laid  bare 
by  the  fire  of  the  previous  evening.  This 
district  contained  about  five  hundred  build- 
ings, averaging  four  or  five  occupants  each. 
These  buildings  were  generally  of  the 
poorer  class,  and  comprised  a  great  many 
boarding-houses,  saloons,  and  minor  hotels, 
with  a  few  factories,  also  several  lumber 
and  coal  yards  and  planing  mills,  a  grain 
elevator,  and  a  depot. 

In  the  South  Division,  the  burned  area 
comprised  some  four  hundred  and  sixty 
acres.  With  the  exception  of  the  Lind 
block,  on  the  river  bank,  between  Ran- 
dolph and  Lake  streets,  it  included  all 
north  of  an  irregular  line  running  diago- 
nally from  the  intersection  of  Polk  street 
with  the  river,  to  the  corner  of  Congress 
street  and  Michigan  avenue.  This  dis- 
trict, though  comparatively  small  in  ex- 
tent, was  by  far  the  most  valuable  in  the 
city, — the  very  heart  and  head  of  Chicago 
as  a  commercial  center.  It  contained  the 
great  majority  of  all  those  structures 
which  were  at  once  costly  in  themselves, 
and  filled  with  the  wealth  of  merchandise 
that  made  the  city  the  great  emporium  of 
the  North-west.  All  the  wholesale  stores 
of  any  considerable  magnitude,  all  the 
daily  and  weekly  newspaper  offices,  all  the 


BURNING  OF  CHICAGO. 


658 


BURNING  OF  CHICAGO. 


principal  banks,  the  leading  hotels,  many 
extensive  factories,  all  the  offices  of  insur- 
ance men,  lawyers,  produce  brokers,  etc., 
the  custom-house,  court-house,  chamber  of 
commerce,  all  the  prominent  public  halls 
and  places  of  amusement,  many  coal  yards, 
the  monster  Central  railroad  depot,  with 
its  various  buildings  for  the  transaction  of 
business  of  the  Illinois  Central,  Michigan 
Central,  and  Chicago,  Burlington  and 
Quincy  railroads,  &c.,  &c.  There  were 
nearly  thirty-seven  hundred  buildings  de- 
stroyed in  this  division,  including  sixteen 
hundred  stores,  twenty-eight  hotels,  sixty 
manufacturing  establishments,  and  the 
homes  of  about  twenty-two  thousand 
people. 

In  the  North  Division,  the  flames  swept 
nearly  fifteen  hundred  acres,  destroying 
thirteen  thousand  three  hundred  buildings, 
the  homes  of  nearly  seventy-five  thousand 
people.  These  structures  included  more 
than  six  hundred  stores  and  one  hundred 
manufacturing  establishments,  including 
McCormick's  reaper  factory,  a  sugar  refin- 
ery, box  mills,  etc.  The  lake  shore,  from 
Chicago  avenue  north,  was  lined  with 
breweries.  The  river  banks  were  piled 
high  with  lumber  and  coal,  three  grain 
elevators  stood  near  the  fork  of  the  river, 
and  near  them  the  Galena  depot.  Many 
hotels,  and  private  storehouses  for  produce 
and  other  property,  also  existed  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  the  wholesale  meat 
markets  on  Kinzie  street  were  a  busy  cen- 
ter of  trade.  North  Clark,  Wells,  and 
North  and  Chicago  avenues,  were  princi- 
pally occupied  by  retail  stores. 

The  total  area  burned  over  was  two 
thousand  one  hundred  and  twenty-four 
acres,  or  almost  three  and  one-third  square 
miles.  This  area  contained  about  seventy- 
three  miles  of  streets,  and  seventeen  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  fifty  buildings,  the 
homes  of  nearly  one  hundred  thousand 
people.  All  this  transpired  in  the  brief 
space  of  thirty  hours,  and  the  aggregate 
loss  was  not  far  from  $200,000,000.  But 
saddest  of  all  was  the  great  loss  of  life,  the 
precise  extent  of  which  will  probably 
never  be  known. 


For  a  city  thus  suddenly  and  tragically 
overwhelmed  in  ruin,  the  sympathies  of  the 
whole  civilized  world  were  spontaneously 
poured  forth,  and,  in  response  to  the  cry  for 
help  that  went  up  from  her  borders,  instant 
and  abundant  relief  was  sent  from  every 
part  of  the  Union.  The  national  govern- 
ment, at  the  instance  of  Lieut.  Gen.  Sher- 
idan,— whose  activity  in  endeavoring  to 
stay  the  progress  of  the  conflagration,  and, 
subsequently,  in  preserving  order,  was  so 
conspicuous, — sent  thousands  of  tents  and 
army  rations  ;  societies  and  private  citi- 
zens sent  money,  clothing,  and  provis- 
ions; railroad  companies  dispatched  spe- 
cial trains  laden  with  these  gifts ;  and  in 
every  city  and  town,  public  meetings  were 
held,  and  money  raised  to  aid  the  homeless 
and  suffering.  From  Canada  and  Europe, 
too,  came  assurances  of  sympathy  and 
proffers  of  assistance.  The  total  value  of 
the  charities  thus  bestowed,  in  provisions, 
clothing,  and  money,  amounted  to  millions 
of  dollars,  all  of  which  was  distributed 
with  such  promptness  and  wisdom  that 
despair  was  forestalled,  epidemic  disease 
prevented,  and  hope  kindled  in  the  hearts 
of  all. 

To  narrate  more  than  a  few  of  the  many 
instances  of  heroism,  affection,  tragedy 
and  crime,  incident  to  a  disaster  so  wide- 
spread and  awful,  would  be  simply  impossi- 
ble. Gangs  of  armed  ruffians  were  every- 
where patrolling  about,  hunting  for  plunder, 
and  breaking  into  safes  with  impunity, — 
remonstrance  was  met  with  a  deadly  blow, 
and  few  had  the  temerity  to  interfere. 
Heated  with  whiskey  and  excitement,  they 
caused  a  complete  reign  of  terror,  and, 
though  the  mayor  had  issued  a  proclama- 
tion directing  the  closing  of  the  saloons, 
no  attention  was  paid  to  it,  and  the  disor- 
derly element  had  its  own  sway. 

In  Wabash  and  Michigan  avenues,  and, 
indeed,  in  all  the  places  where  the  richer 
classes  lived,  the  scenes  enacted  were  un- 
paralleled. Women  who  had  never  known 
what  a  care  was,  and  consequently  were, 
as  would  be  supposed,  utterly  incapable  of 
bearing  with  courage  such  a  calamity  as 
the  destruction  of  their  homes,  displayed 


BURNING  OP  CHICAGO. 


659 


instances  of  heroism  and  love  worthy  to 
be  written  of  in  story  and  song.  Thus,  a 
prominent  lady  of  Wabash  avenue  had 
been  deserted  by  her  servants  as  soon  as 
it  became  certain  that  the  house  was 
doomed  ;  they  went  off,  taking  with  them 
whatever  they  could  lay  their  hands  on. 
She,  her  daughter,  and  her  invalid  hus- 
band, were  alone  in  the  house,  and  the 
flames  were  rapidly  approaching.  There 
was  not  a  moment  to  spare,  and  the  two 
women  carried  away  in  their  arms  the 
sick  man,  and  brought  him  in  safety  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  fire. 

The  most  pitiable  sights  were  the  sick 
children,  half  dead,  lying  crouched  on  the 
sidewalks,  in  many  cases  with  barely  any 
covering  on  them.  A  pathetic  scene 
was  noticed  on  the  corner  of  La  Salle 
and  Randolph  streets,  where  two  little 
girls  were  lying,  terror-stricken,  by  the 
side  of  their  dead  sister,  whose  re- 
mains presented  a  harrowing  spectacle. 
She  had  been  too  late  to  escape  from 
under  a  falling  building  on  Clark  street, 
and  had  then  been  extricated  and  borne 
away  to  the  corner  by  her  almost  perish- 
ing sisters. 

The  preservation  of  Mr.  Ogden's  resi- 
dence, solitary  and  alone,  in  the  very  heart 
of  the  fire,  was  one  of  the  most  memorable 
incidents  in  the  history  of  this  great  dis- 
aster. The  happy  result  in  this  case  was 
accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  the  house, 
a  large  and  comfortable  frame  structure, 
was  in  the  middle  of  a  block,  all  the  other 
lots  of  which  formed  its  elegant  garden. 
On  the  streets  upon  its  four  sides  were  not 
many  large  buildings;  while  just  as  the 
fire  approached  it  from  the  south-west 
there  was  a  slight  lull  in  the  fury  of  the 


wind.  This  allowed  the  flames  to  shoot 
straighter  into  the  air,  and,  before  the 
fiery  tempest  had  again  bent  them  forward 
in  search  of  further  fuel,  the  structures 
upon  which  they  were  immediately  feed- 
ing had  been  reduced  to  ashes,  and  a  break 
made  in  the  terrible  wall  of  fire.  The 
exertions  of  Mr.  Ogden  and  his  family,  in 
covering  the  roof  and  walls  of  the  house- 
with  carpets,  quilts,  and  blankets,  which 
were  kept  constantly  wet  with  water  from 
a  cistern  which  happened  to  be  in  his  place, 
also  aided  materially  in  the  saving  of  their 
home,  which  was  the  only  unharmed  build- 
ing for  miles ! 

One  of  the  most  notable  events  was  the 
fate  of  the  Tribune  building,  erected  at 
great  cost,  and,  as  it  was  supposed,  with 
undoubted  fire-proof  qualities.  A  wide 
space  had  been  burned  around  it,  and  its 
safety  was  thought  to  be  assured.  A  pa- 
trol of  men  swept  off  live  coals  and  put 
out  fires  in  the  side  walls,  and  another 
patrol  watched  the  roofs.  Up  to  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  reporters  had 
sent  in  detailed  accounts  of  the  fire.  At 
five  o'clock  the  forms  were  sent  down. 
In  ten  minutes  the  two  eight-cylinders  in 
the  press-room  would  have  been  throwing 
off  the  morning  paper.  Then  the  front 
basement  was  discovered  to  be  on  fire. 
The  plug  on  the  corner  was  tapped,  but 
there  was  no  water.  The  pressmen  were 
driven  from  their  presses.  The  attaches 
of  the  establishment  said  good-bye  to  the 
finest  newspaper  office  in  the  western 
country,  and  withdrew  to  a  place  of 
safety.  In  a  very  short  time  the  building 
was  enveloped  in  fire,  and  by  ten  o'clock 
the  whole  magnificent  structure  was  a  mass 
of  blackened  ruins. 


LXXIX. 
THE  NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT.— 1872. 


Popular  Organizations  in  the  Interests  of  Labor. — Changes  Sought  in  the  Relations  between  Producers 
and  Consumers. — General  Declaration  of  Principles  and  Aims. — A  System  of  Universal  Co-operation 
Proposed. — Results  to  be  Realized  by  such  Combinations. — Patrons  of  Husbandry  and  Sovereigns  of 
Industry. — Initiative  Proceedings  in  1867. — First  Grange  Founded  in  Washington,  D.  C. — Agricul- 
ture the  Grand  Basis. — Mutual  Protection  and  Advancement. — Small  Encouragement  at  the  Begin- 
ning.— Immense  Growth  in  Five  Years. — Activity  in  the  West  and  South. — Social  and  Moral  Aspects. 
— Plan  of  Business  Action. — Partisan  Prejudices  Disavowed — No  Political  Tests  Involved. — Opin- 
ions of  Eminent  Leaders  Cited. — Views  of  Foreign  Publicists. — Vital  Point  in  the  New  System. — 
Commercial  and  Financial  Theories. — Grain  and  Cotton  Products. — Alleged  Errors  in  Trade  Cus- 
toms.— Individual  vs.  Associated  Efforts. — '  Middlemen '  a  Disadvantage. — Substitute  for  Their  Inter- 
vention — The  Case  Illustrated. — Difficulties  and  Remedies. 


"The  ultimate  object  of  thin  organization  IB  for  mutual  Insrrueti.TO  and  protection,  to  lichtrn  labor  by  diffusing  a  knowledge  of  KB  aim* 
and  the  mind  by  tracing  the  beautiful  la*"s  the  great  Creator  has  established  in  the  universe,  and  to  enlarge  our  views  of 
" 


. 

and  purposes,  expand  the  mind  by  tracing  the  beautiful  la*"s  the  great  Creat 
Creative  wisdom  and  power."—  CONSTITUTION  OF  TBK  NATIONAL  QRANUB. 


^  CJfesPjS^^NE  of  the  most  active  and  vigorous  co-operative  bodies  which  have 
been  organized,  on  a  popular  basis,  within  the  last  few  years  of  the 
national  century,  and  which  now  has  its  associate 
representation  in  almost  all  parts  of  the  country, 
is  what  is  known  as  the  National  Grangers — and, 
similarly,  Patrons  of  Husbandry,  and  Sovereigns 
of   Industry,  —  devoted,  as  these   names  imply,  to 
the  interests  of  agricultural  labor,  and  kindred  in- 
dustries.    Their  greatest  strength  is  found  in  the 
western   portion  of  the   republic,  though  by 
no  means    confined  to  that  section,  affiliated 
branches  of  the  order  being  found,  in  a  more 
or  less  flourishing  condition,  in  the  southern, 
eastern,  and  Pacific  regions,  as  well. 

Though  dating  the  initiative  of  its  existence 
no  earlier  than  1867,  it  was  not,  in  fact,  until 
1872,  that  the  order  became  sufficiently  for- 
midable in  numbers  and  influence  to  attract 
wide-spread  attention.  As  illustrating,  how- 
ever, the  rapid  growth  which,  in  time,  charac- 
terized this  movement,  it  is  stated  that,  in  August.  1867,  Messrs.  0.  H.  Kelley  and 
William  Saunders,  at  that  time  connected  with  the  government  departments  in  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.,  and  known  as  intelligent  and  far-seeing  observers  of  public  affairs  in 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


661 


their  relations  to  business  and  labor, — both 
gentlemen  having  been  farmers,  and  long 
identified  with  that  class, — conceived  the 
idea  of  forming  a  society,  having  for  its 
object  their  mutual  instruction  and  pro- 
tection. 

In  this  view,  they  were  joined,  on  con- 
sultation, by  others,  and  a  circular  was 
drawn  up,  embracing  the  various  points  it 
was  deemed  desirable  to  embody,  in  pre- 
senting the  plan  of  the  Grange  to  the 
countrv.  On  the  4th  of  December,  1867, 
in  Washington,  D.  C.,  the  first  Grange 
was  organized,  being  officered  as  follows : 
William  Saunders,  master ;  J.  K.  Thomp- 
son, lecturer;  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  chaplain  ; 
0.  H.  Kelley,  secretary.  This  became  the 
National  Grange.  Soon  after,  a  subordi- 
nate grange  was  established  in  that  city, 
as  a  school  of  instruction,  and  to  test  the 
efficiency  of  the  ritual.  This  grange  num- 
bered about  sixty  members.  In  April, 
1868,  Mr.  Kelley  was  appointed  to  the 
position  of  traveling  agent.  The  first  dis- 
pensation was  issued  for  a  grange  at  Har- 
risburg,  Pa. ;  the  second  at  Fredonia,  N. 
Y. ;  the  third  at  Columbus,  0. ;  the  next 
at  Chicago,  111.  In  Minnesota,  six  granges 
were  organized.  Thus,  the  whole  number 
during  the  first  year  was  but  ten :  in  1869, 
thirty-nine  dispensations  were  granted ;  in 
1870,  thirty-eight ;  in  1871,  one  hundred* 
and  twenty-five  ;  and  during  the  next  year, 
more  than  eight  hundred  dispensations  for 
subordinate  granges  were  issued  from  the 
headquarters  at  Washington,  and  the  total 
increase  during  1872  was  rising  eleven 
hundred. 

The  declaration  of  principles  put  forth, 
authoritatively,  by  the  national  grange, 
leaves  no  room  for  doubt  as  to  the  charac- 
ter and  purposes  avowed  by  this  now  pow- 
erful order.  Starting  with  the  proclama- 
tion of  union  by  the  strong  and  faithful 
tie  of  Agriculture,  with  a  mutual  resolve 
to  labor  for  the  good  of  the  order,  the 
country,  and  mankind,  and  indorsing  the 
motto,  '  In  essentials,  unity,  ia  non-essen- 
tials liberty,  in  all  things  charity,'  the 
following  specific  objects  are  set  forth 
as  those  characterizing  the  order  and 


by   which  the  cause   is  to   be   advanced, 
namely : 

To  develop  a  better  and  higher  man- 
hood and  womanhood  among  those  consti- 
tuting the  order ;  to  enhance  the  comforts 
and  attractions  of  home,  and  strengthen 
the  attachment  to  their  pursuits ;  to  foster 
mutual  understanding  and  co-operation; 
to  maintain  inviolate  the  laws,  and  emu- 
late each  other  in  hastening  the  good  time 
coming ;  to  reduce  expenses,  both  individ- 
ual and  co-operate ;  to  buy  less  and  pro- 
duce more,  in  order  to  make  their  farms 
self-sustaining;  to  diversify  crops,  and 
crop  no  more  than  can  be  cultivated ;  to 
condense  the  weight  of  exports,  selling  less 
in  the  bushel  and  more  on  hoof  and  in 
fleece ;  to  systematize  work,  and  calculate 
intelligently  on  probabilities ;  to  discon- 
tinue the  credit  system,  the  mortgage  sys- 
tem, the  fashion  system,  and  every  other 
system  tending  to  prodigality  and  bank- 
ruptcy; to  meet  together,  talk  together, 
work  together,  buy  and  sell  together,  and 
in  general  act  together  for  mutual  protec- 
tion and  advancement,  as  association  may 
require;  to  avoid  litigation  as  much  as 
possible,  by  arbitration  in  the  grange;  to 
constantly  strive  to  secure  entire  harmony, 
good  will,  and  vital  brotherhood,  and  to 
make  the  Order  perpetual ;  to  endeavor  to 
suppress  personal,  local,  sectional  and  na- 
tional prejudices,  all  unhealthy  rivalry,  and 
all  selfish  ambition. 

In  regard  to  the  principles  and  aims  of 
this  organization  in  respect  to  business, — 
concerning  which  much  public  discussion 
has  taken  place, — the  statement  is  made 
by  the  order,  authoritatively  and  explic- 
itly, that  it  aims  to  bring  producers  and 
consumers,  farmers  and  manufacturers, 
into  the  most  direct  and  friendly  relation 
possible,  and,  in  order  to  fulfill  this,  it  is 
necessary  that  a  surplus  of  middlemen  be 
dispensed  with, — not  in  any  spirit  of  un- 
friendliness to  them,  but  because  such  a 
class  is  not  needed,  their  surplus  and  ex- 
actions diminishing  the  raiser's  profits. 

Emphatically  disavowing  any  intention 
to  wage  aggressive  warfare  against  other 
interests,  the  grangers  assert  that  all  their 


662 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


acts  and  efforts,  so  far  as  business  is  con- 
cerned, are  not  only  for  the  benefit  of  the 
producer  and  consumer,  but  also  for  all 
other  interests  that  tend  to  bring  these 
two  parties  into  speedy  and  economical 
contact ;  hence,  they  hold  that  transporta- 
tion companies  of  every  kind  are  necessary, 
that  the  interests  of  such  companies  are 
intimately  connected  with  the  welfare  of 
the  grange,  harmonious  action  being  mu- 
tually advantageous, — keeping  in  view  one 


While  declaring  themselves  as  not  the  ene- 
mies of  railroads,  navigable  and  irrigating 
canals,  nor  of  any  corporations  that  will 
advance  industrial  welfare,  nor  yet  of  any 
laboring  classes,  the  grangers  are  opposed 
to  such  spirit  and  management  of  any  cor- 
poration, or  enterprise,  as  tend  to  oppress 
the  people  and  rob  them  of  their  just 
profit;  and,  while  not  enemies  to  capital, 
they  oppose  the  tyranny  of  monopolies,  and 
urge  that  the  antagonism  between  capital 


SYMBOLS  OF    THE    OO-OPERATlYE   LABOR  ORGANIZATIONS. 


of  the  primary  bases  of  action  upon  which 
the  order  rests,  namely,  that  individual 
happiness  depends  upon  general  prosperity. 
To  this  end,  the  order  advocates  for 
every  state  the  increase,  in  every  practica- 
ble way,  of  all  facilities  for  transporting 
cheaply  to  the  seaboard,  or  between  home 
producers  and  consumers,  all  the  produc- 
tions of  the  country,  the  fixed  purpose  of 
action  being,  in  this  respect,  to  open  out 
the  channels  in  nature's  great  arteries,  that 
the  life-blood  of  commerce  may  flow  freely. 


and  labor  be  removed  by  common  consent, 
and  by  enlightened  statesmanship  worthy 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  Opposition  is  de- 
clared, also,  to  excessive  salaries,  high  rates 
of  interest,  and  exorbitant  per  cent,  profits 
in  trade,  as  greatly  increasing  the  burdens 
of  the  people,  and  bearing  no  proper  pro- 
portion to  the  profits  of  producers. 

The  relations  of  the  grange  movement 
to  political  parties  and  questions  have 
formed,  almost  from  the  first,  the  subject 
of  universal  criticism.  It  is  emphatically 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


663 


declared,  however,  as  the  oft-repeated  truth 
taught  in  the  organic  law  of  the  order,  that 
the  grange,  national,  state,  or  subordinate, 
is  not  a  political  or  party  organization ; 
and  yet,  while  no  grange,  if  true  to  its  obli- 
gations, can  discuss  political  or  religious 
questions,  nor  call  political  conventions  or 
nominate  candidates,  nor  ever  discuss  their 
merits  in  its  meetings,  the  principles  enun- 
ciated by  the  order  are,  it  is  claimed,  such 
as  underlie  all  true  politics  and  all  true 
statesmanship,  and,  if  properly  carried  out, 
tending  to  purify  the  whole  political  atmos- 
phere of  the  country;  that,  though  seek- 
ing the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest  num- 
ber, no  one  by  becoming  a  grange  member 
gives  up  that  inalienable  right  and  duty 
which  belong  to  every  American  citizen, 
to  take  a  proper  interest  in  the  politics  of 
his  country.  On  the  contrary,  the  grange 
pronounces  it  to  be  the  right  and  duty  of 
every  member  to  do  all  in  his  power  legiti- 
mately to  influence,  for  good,  the  action  of 
any  political  party  to  which  he  belongs ; 
that  it  is  his  duty  to  do  all  he  can,  in  his 
own  party,  to  put  down  bribery,  corrup- 
tion, and  trickery, — to  see  that  none  but 
competent,  faithful,  and  honest  men,  who 
will  unflinchingly  stand  by  the  interests  of 
the  order  are  nominated  for  all  positions  of 
trust, — the  governing  principle  in  this  re- 
spect to  be,  that  the  office  should  seek  the 
man  and  not  the  man  the  office.  The 
broad  principle  is  acknowledged,  that  dif- 
ference of  opinion  is  no  crime,  and  that 
progress  towards  truth  is  made  by  differ- 
ences of  opinion,  while  the  fault  lies  in  bit- 
terness of  controversy.  A  proper  equality, 
equity  and  fairness,  protection  for  the 
weak,  restraint  upon  the  strong, — in  short, 
justly  distributed  burdens,  and  justly  dis- 
tributed power, — the  grange  holds  to  be 
American  ideas,  the  very  essence  of  Amer- 
ican independence,  to  advocate  the  con- 
trary being  unworthy  the  sons  and  daugh- 
ters of  an  American  republic.  Cherishing 
the  belief,  too,  that  sectionalism  is  and  of 
right  should  be  dead  and  buried  with  the 
past,  the  order  declares  its  work  to  be  for 
the  present  and  future,  and  consequently 
recognizes  in  its  agricultural -brotherhood, 


and  its  associational  purposes,  no  north, 
no  south,  no  east,  no  west,  and  to  every 
member  is  reserved  the  freeman's  right  to 
affiliate  with  any  party  that  will  best  carry 
out  his  principles. 

The  wonderful  growth  of  the  grange 
movement,  especially  throughout  the  west, 
is  asserted  by  Mr.  J.  K.  Hudson,  an  in- 
telligent and  reliable  authority,  to  have 
been  without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of 
associational  movements  in  this  country; 
and  this  fact  he  attributes  to  the  condition 
of  the  public  mind  which  existed  at  the 
time  of  the  founding  of  the  movement, — 
the  prevailing  feeling  of  distrust  towards 
the  organized  interests  of  every  kind  then 
existing,  the  common  indignation  against 
the  injustice  of  the  unfair  distribution  of 
profits,  the  prevailing  discrimination 
against  agricultural  labor  which  was,  year 
after  year,  constantly  kept  alive  in  the 
minds  of  the  farmers  of  the  west  by  the 
fast  decreasing  profits,  buying  goods  sold 
at  heavy  profits,  paying  burdensome  taxes 
brought  upon  them  by  unscrupulous  rings 
which  had  squandered  and  stolen  the  pub- 
lic funds,  while  the  result  of  the  year's 
product  and  sale  showed  a  loss  to  honest 
labor. 

Such  a  remarkable  feature  in  American 
life  as  the  rise  and  progress  of  this  move- 
ment has  not  failed  to  attract  attention  in 
foreign  lands,  and  particularly  in  England. 
Thus,  at  the  Social  Science  Congress  of 
Great  Britain,  assembled  in  1875,  the  Earl 
of  Roseberry,  president  of  the  association, 
after  speaking  of  the  various  'Unions'  to 
be  found  in  the  United  States,  such  as  the 
Sons  of  Toil,  the  Brethren  of  Labor,  etc., 
characterized  as  incomparably  above  these, 
"the  gigantic  association  of  Patrons  of 
Husbandry,  commonly  called  the  Grange, 
a  great  agricultural,  co-operative,  inde- 
pendent union.  Its  progress  has  been 
amazing.  Its  first  grange,  or  lodge,  was 
formed  in  the  last  month  of  1867  ;  there 
are  at  this  moment  20,500,  with  1,311,226 
members,  and  at  the  end  of  the  year  it  is 
certain  that  they  will  have  thirty  thousand, 
with  two  million  members.  The  order  is 
practically  identified  with  the  agricultural 


664 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


665 


population  of  twenty-six  states,  and  with 
two-thirds  of  the  farmers  in  ten  others. 
In  Missouri  alone  there  are  said  to  be 
2,150  granges;  they  are  making  their 
way  in  Canada.  Pennsylvania  began  the 
year  with  six  lodges,  and  at  this  moment 
she  has  eight  hundred."  In  regard  to  the 
cause  of  this  prodigious  increase,  the  earl 
thinks  it  easily  accounted  for,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that,  as  alleged,  the  membership 
adds  not  less  than  fifty  per  cent,  to  the 
income  of  the  order;  and  their  enterprise 
and  importance  are  further  made  manifest 
by  the  fact,  as  stated,  that  the  California 
grangers  have  their  own  fleet,  and  ship 
their  corn  direct  to  Liverpool,  by  which 
they  saved  two  million  dollars,  in  freights, 
in  a  single  year, — their  vessels  bringing, 
as  return  cargoes,  tea,  sugar,  coffee,  silk, 
and  other  commodities,  which  are  retailed 
to  members  at  cost  price,  and  a  system  is 
being  organized  by  which  their  ships  re- 
turn with  loads  of  every  foreign  article 
which  the  members  may  need,  thus  mak- 
ing them  an  independent  mercantile  na- 
tion. In  a  similar  strain,  it  is  remarked 
by  Mr.  Leavitt,  an  ardent  advocate  of  the 
order,  that,  although  the  fact  be  a  disa- 
greeable one  to  some  classes  of  non-pro- 
ducers, it  is  none  the  less  undeniable  that 
the  rugged  health  of  the  movement  arises 
from  its  direct  bearing  upon  the  pockets 
of  its  members, — the  chief  advantage  be- 
ing the  wholesale  buying  and  selling 
which  is  done  through  the  machinery  of 
the  order,  differing,  of  course,  in  different 
states ;  thus,  in  the  west,  a  large  part  of 
the  gain  is  from  the  wholesale  disposal  of 
grain,  and  its  handling  through  grange 
elevators,  while,  in  the  south,  planters 
have  saved  large  sums  by  using  the  grange 
agents  in  disposing  of  their  cotton. 

This  last  named  consideration  appears 
to  be  a  vital  point  in  the  principles  and 
aims  of  the  grangers,  and  is  urged  very 
strongly  in  the  writings  of  those  who  are 
the  acknowledged  spokesmen  of  the  order. 
According  to  the  argument  of  Mr.  Aiken, 
a  leading  member  at  the  south,  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  order  is  based  upon  the  idea 
of  affording  mutual  benefit  to  the  producer 


and  consumer  by  bringing  them  together. 
This  position  he  enforces  by  stating  the 
disadvantage  the  farmer  labors  under,  by 
the  system  of  trade  at  present  carried  on. 
To  dispose  of  his  crop  as  he  pleases,  says 
Mr.  Aiken,  is  an  enjoyable  privilege,  and, 
when  he  exchange?  his  products  for  the 
cash  in  hand  he  experiences  a  satisfaction 
not  suggested  by  the  receipt  of  bills  of  sale 
made  at  a  distance  ;  those  who  buy  from 
the  farmer  in  a  home  market,  however, 
are  most  generally  speculators,  or  '  middle- 
men '  of  the  genuine  stamp ;  they  buy 
simply  to  sell  at  a  profit,  and  if  they,  by 
their  better  judgment  and  astuteness,  can 
realize  a  handsome  profit  upon  their  in- 
vestment, they  should  not  be  condemned 
as  tradesmen.  If  A  buys  B's  crop,  and 
nets  fifty  per  cent,  upon  the  purchase,  he 
was  no  more  to  blame  than  B  was  for  sell- 
ing to  him  ;  both  transactions  were  legiti- 
mate, but  the  result  would  show  there  was 
something  erroneous  in  this  method  of 
dealing — the  error  was  that  farmer  B  did 
not  properly  comprehend  the  '  tricks  of 
trade,'  he  had  not  studied  the  difference 
between  wholesale  and  retail,  between  lo- 
cal and  through  freights,  between  individ- 
ual and  combined  efforts,  between  isola- 
tion and  co-operation.  The  purchase  of  a 
single  article,  the  shipment  of  a  single 
crop,  the  efforts  of  a  single  individual,  are 
all  alike  in  their  results,  and  of  minor 
importance  to  tradesmen ;  but  where  the 
purchases  are  made  by  wholesale,  crops 
are  grouped  together  for  shipment,  and  the 
entire  transaction  submitted  to  a  single 
disbursing  agent,  the  commission  on  sales 
is  diminished,  the  cost  of  transportation 
is  reduced,  and  the  aggregated  profits  be- 
come a  handsome  amount.  Just  so  the 
'  middleman  '  acts  ;  he  buys  individually, 
but  groups  his  purchases  and  ships  col- 
lectively,— is  his  own  disbursing  agent, 
and  pockets  the  results  of  his  profitable 
labors.  It  is  exactly  in  this  capacity  that 
the  grange  proposes  to  act  for  the  farmer. 
Similar  in  its  spirit  and  principles  of 
fraternity  and  co-operation  is  the  organiza- 
tion, so  increasingly  prosperous,  known  as 
the  Sovereigns  of  Industry.  As  defined 


666 


NATIONAL  GRANGE  MOVEMENT. 


by  Mr.  Alger,  a  prominent  exponent  of 
the  society's  aims,  its  members  maintain 
that  the  true  desideratum  is  to  raise  the 
quality  and  quantity  of  every  sort  of  use- 
ful production  to  the  maximum,  and  to 
reduce  the  cost  both  of  creation  and  distri- 
bution to  the  minimum ;  and,  with  this 
end  in  view,  holding  that  men  should  be 
producers  of  good  in  some  form,  and  that 
their  sum  of  goods  will  be  perfected  by 
equitable  exchanges,  they  have  already 
begun  the  systematic  organization  of  a 
method  of  bringing  all  kinds  of  producers 
and  consumers  into  direct  contact,  for 
their  common  gain  and  to  the  universal 
advantage, — the  system  being  intended  to 
prevent  the  waste  of  labor,  and  to  put  an 
end  to  the  exaction  of  profit  without  any 
correspondent  creation  of  value  or  use,  and 
to  swallow  up  the  bitter  rivalries  and  ani- 
mosities of  labor  and  capital  and  trade  in 
an  inclusive  harmonizing  of  them  all.  In 
the  further  declaration  of  the  purposes  of 


the  order,  upon  which  its  action  as  above 
indicated  is  based,  it  is  urged  that  the 
master  principle  of  a  true  civilization  must 
be  the  direct  application  of  labor  to  the 
production  of  the  goods  of  life.  In  utter 
opposition,  however,  to  this,  is  the  applica- 
tion of  artifice  to  obtain  money  from  those 
who  possess  it,  in  order  that  the  obtainer 
may  command  the  goods  of  life  without 
producing  them.  The  only  real  remedy, 
— says  the  declaration  of  this  order, — is 
the  overthrow  of  the  existing  monopoly 
and  gambling  concentrated  in  the  present 
system  of  money,  and  the  assignment  of 
its  just  prerogatives  to  productive  labor; 
an  end  must  be  put  to  all  those  forms  of 
speculation  which  simply  transfer  money 
from  hand  to  hand  without  any  use  or 
equivalent,  and  an  end  must  be  put  also  to 
the  enormous  profits  exacted  by  the  dis- 
tributors of  goods  who  create  no  value  but 
get  rich  out  of  the  earnings  of  productive 
labor. 


LXXX. 

TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  FREE  POPULAR  EDUCATION.— 

1874. 


An  Experiment  in  Behalf  of  the  Highest  Civilization. — Condition  of  the  Country  Previous  to  such  Efforts. 
— Early  Scenes  and  Customs. — Public  Law  Invoked  and  Applied. — Impulse  Given  to  the  Work. — Prog- 
ress and  Kesults. — America  in  the  Van. — Most  Enlightened  and  Successful  System  in  the  World. — 
Female  Education. — Colleges,  Universities,  etc. — A  Very  Modern  Idea. — No  National  System  of  Edu- 
cation.— Undertaken  hy  the  Individual  States. — Effect  of  Wise  Legislation. — State  Vieingwith  State. — 
School-houses  in  "  ye  olden  time." — The  East  and  the  West. — Wonderful  Changes  in  Public  Opinion.— 
Some  Strange  Contrasts. — Architectural  Splendor  of  the  Present  Day. — Ingenious  Helps  and  Appli- 
ances.— Congressional  Grants  in  Aid  of  the  Cause. — Government  Bureau  at  Washington. — Grand  Aim 
and  Scope. — Standard  of  Female  Instruction  Raised. — Principles  and  Methods. — The  Higher  Institu- 
tions of  Learning. — Ideas  and  Plans  at  the  Start. — Founding  of  Harvard,  Yale,  etc. — Then  and  Now. 
—Nearly  400  Colleges  iu  the  U.  S. — Some  8,000,000  Common  School  Pupils. 


"No  nation  cm  expect  to  proiper  if  the  education  of  the  people  be  neglected."—  Qloaos  WisemoTOir. 


HE  present  year  may  be  said  to  complete  the  period  and  exhibit  the  re- 
ft   ',    suits  of  some  two  hundred  years  of  free  popular  education,  as  established 
^       and  fostered  by  the  law  of  the  land, — the  fact  being,  in  this  matter,  that, 
f  though  no  comprehensive  system  of  national  education,  under  national 
jg^^£'  •  i"«.  _     law,  exists  in  the  United  States  at  the  present  time, 

the  whole  interest  being  within  State  or  local  juris- 
diction, the  legislative  assemblies  of  the  colonies, 
particularly  those  of  Massachusetts  and  Connecti- 
cut, gave  early  attention  to  the  subject,  at  least  in 
respect  to  its  more  immediate  claims  and  necessi- 
ties. It  is  a  decidedly  modern  idea,  that  the  State 
at  large,  and  each  man  and  woman  in  particular,  is 
responsible  for  the  proper  education  of  every  child. 
Those  conspicuous  figures  in  history,  Alfred  and 
Charlemagne,  seem  to  have  had  a  glimmering  of 
that  idea,  but  the  times  were  too  dark,  too  stern  for 
them.  During  the  whole  of  the  middle  Ages,  little 
more  is  to  be  seen  than  priestly  schools,  chiefly  in- 
tended for  the  education  of  the  clergy,  but  opened  in 
certain  places  for  the  laity  also.  Schools  for  the  nation  at  large,  and  supported  by 
the  nation  at  large,  were  not  dreamed  of.  As  late,  even,  as  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  state  of  the  lower  and  middle  classes,  so  far  as  education  was  concerned,  was 
quite  discouraging.  There  were  church  schools,  town  schools,  private  schools,  scat- 


THE  SCHOOLrHOi:SE  AS   IT   WAS. 


668 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


tered  about  here  and  there, — a  few  good, 
some  indifferent,  most  of  them  poor  ;  but 
as  to  any  efficient  machinery  that  should 
reach  every  locality,  and  benefit  every 
class,  this  was  reserved  to  advancing  gen- 
erations,— and  magnificent  indeed  has  been 
the  realization. 

As  already  intimated,  the  sources  of 
education  were  opened  up  at  aa  early  pe- 
riod in  the  settlement  of  the  country,  and, 
in  spite  of  all  difficulties  that  presented 
themselves,  the  public  feeling  was  that 
the  best  should  be  done  that  the  times 
would  permit.  It  may  be  said,  however, 
that  not  until  1644 — just  two  hundred 


the  laws  provided  for  the  schoolmas-ter 
and  the  school,  each  township  of  fifty  fam- 
ilies being  bound  to  maintain  a  teacher  of 
reading  and  writing,  while  each  of  a  hun- 
dred families  was  called  upon  to  set  up  a 
grammar  school.  According  to  the  phra- 
seology of  the  legislative  enactment  by 
Massachusetts — 

"  It  is  therefore  ordered  y'  every  towne- 
ship  in  this  jurisdiction  after  ye  Lord  hath 
increased  yln  to  y°  number  of  50  houshold- 
ers  shall  then  forthwith  appoint  one  within 
the  towne  to  teach  all  such  children  as 
shall  resort  to  him  to  write  and  reade, 
whose  wages  shall  be  paid  either  by  y* 


YALE  CULLEOE  IN   17&4. 


OLD  KING'S  Ct>LLEGE. 

years  ago — did  this  public  feeling  assume 
an  effectively  organized  form,  and,  in  a 
short  time,  laws  were  enacted  which  so 
shaped  matters  as  to  insure  permanency 
and  progress.  Thus,  in  Massachusetts, 


FIRST   HARVARD    COLLEGE. 


parents  or  masters  of  such  children,  or  by 
y*  inhabitants  in  generall  by  way  of  sup- 
ply, as  ye  maior  part  of  those  y'  order  y* 
prudentials  of  y*  town  shall  appoint,  pro- 
vided those  y'  send  their  children  be  not 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEAES  OP  EDUCATION. 


669 


oppressed  by  paying  much  more  y"  they 
can  have  ym  taught  for  in  other  townes." 

The  example  thus  set  was  generally 
imitated  in  the  various  New  England  set- 
tlements, Connecticut  being,  in  fact,  in 
the  very  van,  or  at  least  contemporaneous 
with  the  most  alert  and  earnest  in  the 
good  cause.  Connecticut,  too,  laid  the 


of  late  years,  by  the  organization  of  teach- 
ers' associations,  teachers'  institutes,  etc. 
Pennsylvania  made  early  provision  for 
public  schools,  namely,  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  but  it  was  not 
until  1834  that  a  thorough  and  compre- 
hensive plan  of  popular  education  was 
pat  in  operation  by  legislative  ordinance. 


XOBTH-WEKTJiKS    UMIVEKSITV. 


foundations  at  an  early  period,  of  an  am- 
ple school  fund,  by  setting  apart  for  that 
purpose,  in  1795,  the  income  of  the  sale 
of  lands  in  Ohio  which  were  the  property 
of  the  state, — reaching  a  value,  in  some 
fifty  years,  of  more  than  two  million  dol- 
lars. Ehode  Island  established  a  system 
of  free  schools  by  legislation  in  1800. 
The  common  school  system  of  Maine  is 
identical  with  that  of  Massachusetts,  the 
two  states  having  been  one  until  1820. 
New  Hampshire  and  Vermont  were  not 
behindhand  in  prescribing  methods  and 
providing  means  of  general  education. 
In  the  state  of  New  York,  a  school  fund, 
now  amounting  to  millions  of  dollars,  was 
commenced  to  be  raised  in  1805,  from  the 
sale  of  some  half  a  million  acres  of  state 
lands,  and  the  present  system  of  free  edu- 
cation was  founded  in  1812.  New  Jer- 
sey's school  system  has  greatly  improved, 


Maryland  was  much  later  in  the  field,  pro- 
posing schools  long  before  she  established 
them.  The  southern  colonies  were,  for  a 
considerable  period,  lacking  in  activity  in 
behalf  of  education,  but  great  improve- 
ments have  taken  place,  and  especially  is 
this  true  of  late  years, — a  result  in  no 
small  degree  attributable  to  the  generous 
fund  contributed  for  this  purpose  by  Mr. 
George  Peabody,  and  so  ably  administered 
by  Dr.  Sears.  South  Carolina  was  amongst 
the  earliest  to  organize  public  schools, 
namely,  in  the  fore  part  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  but  these,  like  the  schools  of 
almost  all  the  country,  were  of  a  very 
limited  design.  In  Kentucky  and  Vir- 
ginia, as  also  in  Mississippi,  advance  steps 
have  been  taken,  within  a  comparatively 
recent  period,  in  this  direction.  In  all 
the  western  states,  in  addition  to  Ohio 
already  mentioned,  liberal  provision  haa 


670 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


been  made  for  a  first  class  system  of  com- 
mon schools,  with  all  needed  auxiliaries. 

It  is  about  equally  true  of  the  different 
sections  of  the  country  in  early  times,  that 
the  system  of  instruction  was  extremely 
scant,  and  the  school-house  accommoda- 
tions of  the  most  impoverished  character, 
as  compared  with  the  present  day.  The 


. 


objectionable,  as  the  standard  of  education 
was  correspondingly  moderate.  At  the 
west,  in  its  earliest  days,  things  could 
scarcely  have  been  much  worse;  indeed, 
many  of  those  born  and  reared  in  that 
section,  in  its  formation  period,  had  no 
education  at  all,  nor  did  they  generally 
feel  much  concern  on  the  subject, — and, 


NORMAL  SCHOOL,  NEW  YORK  ;    FOB  THE  TRAI.MXG  OF  TEACHERS. 


school-house  of  "y*  olden  time"  is  de- 
scribed as,  in  fact,  scarcely  more  than  a 
hut  or  cabin — a  small,  low  building,  barn- 
like  in  shape  and  appearance,  made  in 
some  cases  of  logs,  and  usually  of  stock 
equally  crude  or  rough,  frequently  without 
clapboards  or  even  shingles,  and  lighted 
by  perhaps  two  or  more  four-pane  win- 
dows,— a  narrow  door  of  rough  boards  at 
one  end ;  within,  completely  unfinished  ; 
some  low  benches  without  backs,  and  a 
chair  or  stool  for  the  'master,'  constituting 
the  furniture. 

It  was  also  a  general  fact  in  respect  to 
those  times,  that,  though  the  teacher 
might  be  decidedly  a  gentleman  of  old 
school  perfection  in  his  manners,  and  very 
popular  perhaps  as  a  m&n,  his  scholastic 
attainments  were  quite  inconsiderable, — a 
point  then  not  likely  to  render  him  very 


among  those  who  did  pretend  to  afford 
their  children  a  knowledge  of  letters,  the 
difficulties  to  contend  with  were  numerous, 
not  the  least  of  which  was  the  lack  of 
competent  teachers.  A  frequent  custom 
in  vogue,  in  sparsely  inhabited  neighbor- 
hoods, was,  for  some  one  of  the  farmers 
best  qualified  for  the  task,  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  or  months  of  the  most  leisure  sea- 
son of  the  year,  in  teaching  the  children 
of  the  vicinity,  whose  parents  might 
choose  to  send  them,  at  a  small  expense, 
say  ten  or  twelve  dimes  a  quarter,  payable 
in  work  or  provisions.  In  this  way,  some 
of  them  succeeded  in  obtaining  such  an 
education  as  was  thought  to  answer  all 
needed  purposes  for  the  masses.  Girls 
learned  to  spell  and  read  imperfectly,  and 
the  art  of  penmanship  was  a  rare  attain- 
ment among  the  native  daughters  of  the 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


671 


west,  of  that  day,  except  in  the  larger 
towns,  and  a  few  favored  spots  in  the 
older  settlements.  The  education  of  a 
boy  was  then  considered  sufficient,  if  he 
could  spell,  read,  write,  and  had  '  ciphered 
to  the  rule  of  three ' ;  and  if,  by  reason  of 
any  superior  privilege,  there  was  added 
to  these  a  knowledge  of  grammar  and 
geography,  he  was  considered  exception- 
ally advanced.  The  following  were  the 
principal  items  in  the  bill  of  expense  for 
the  entire  course  of  studies :  one  Child's 
book,  one  Spelling  book,  one  Reader,  one 
New  Testament,  one  quire  of  foolscap 
paper,  one  Arithmetic,  one  slate,  and  the 
tuition  fees  of  a  few  quarters.  The  pupil 
gathered  his  pencils  from  the  brook,  and 
plucked  his  quills  from  the  wing  of  a  ra- 
ven, or  a  wild  goose,  killed  by  the  father's 
rifle. 

Compare  all  this  with  the  architectural 
splendor  of  our  modern  school-houses,  that 
are  to  be  found  dotting  the  hills  and  val- 
leys of  forty  commonwealths,  the  cost  of 
these  structures  varying  all  the  way  from 
•five  thousand  to  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  finished  with  almost  palatial  luxu- 
riousness  of  beauty  and  convenience,  and 
furnished  with  every  possible  appurtenance 
and  appliance  which  ingenuity,  so  prolific 
in  this  direction,  has  been  able  to  devise. 
Among  the  most  important  features  in  this 
improved  system  of  construction  and  ap- 
paratus, may  be  mentioned  the  loftiness 
and  amplitude  of  the  apartments,  and  that 
full  and  free  ventilation  so  necessary  for 
the  health  and  comfort  of  the  pupils,  to- 
gether with  an  abundance  of  light,  so  that 
there  is  no  straining  of  the  vision.  Of 
school-house  furniture  and  apparatus,  this 
country  is  distinguished  for  a  variety  and 
perfection  unexcelled,  even  if  equalled,  by 
any  other  nation, — including,  of  course, 
desks,  seats,  and  benches,  promotive  of 
comfort,  convenience,  and  neatness ;  col- 
ored counters,  strung  on  horizontal  wires, 
in  upright  frames ;  black-boards,  of  wood 
or  mineral,  some  having  movable  slides,  on 
which  letters  and  figures  are  arranged  in 
different  orders ;  blocks,  demonstrating  the 
various  geometrical  figures;  maps  in  al- 


most endless  style  and  variety ;  atlases, 
globes,  gymnastic  contrivances;  models, 
for  representative  teaching;  geological, 
mineralogical,  and  botanical  collections; 
instruments  for  instruction  in  music ; — 
these,  with  hundreds  of  different  text- 
books in  every  department  or  specialty, 
from  the  primary  to  the  classical,  with  the 
letter-press  made  artistically  attractive  by 
the  most  beautiful  pictorial  ornamentation, 
fill  up  the  foreground  of  this  wonderful 
contrast  of  the  present  with  the  past,  and 
the  details  of  this  comparison  might  here 
be  almost  indefinitely  extended,  did  space 
permit. 

Foreigners,  even  the  most  judicious  ob- 
servers, from  European  nations  of  the 
highest  advancement  in  matters  of  educa- 
tion, are  stated,  by  Prof.  Hoyt,  to  be  of 
one  opinion  in  regard  to  the  intelligent 
zeal  of  the  American  people  in  educational 
affairs,  and  the  readiness  with  which  they 
voluntarily  tax  themselves,  that  the  bless- 
ings of  intellectual  culture  may  be  free  to 
all ;  the  great  liberality  of  the  government 
of  the  United  States  in  freely  giving  of 
the  public  domain  for  the  support  of 
schools  for  the  young,  of  universities,  and 
of  technical  schools  for  instruction  and 
training  in  the  applications  of  science  to 
the  practical  arts  ;  the  unparalleled  mu- 
nificence of  private  gifts  and  bequests  for 
the  founding  of  great  schools,  general, 
technical,  and  professional ;  the  superior- 
ity of  our  public  school  buildings  in  the 
cities  and  villages,  and  of  American  school 
furniture ;  the  great  superiority  of  our 
text-books,  especially  those  for  use  in  the 
primary  and  grammar  schools ;  and,  finally, 
the  extraordinary  extent  to  which  our 
newspaper  and  periodical  publications, 
lecture  courses,  and  other  like  instrumen- 
talities, supplement  the  work  of  the  schools 
by  a  general  diffusion  of  knowledge  among 
all  classes  of  the  people. 

It  is  not  saying  too  much,  perhaps,  that 
the  liberal  grants  of  public  lands  made  in 
behalf  of  free  education,  have  proved,  in 
many  of  the  states,  the  chief  means  of 
prosperity  to  the  cause.  The  establish- 
ment, also,  of  a  government  Bureau  of 


672 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


Education,  at  Washington,  is  likely  to  ef- 
fect the  greatest  results  for  good.  Though 
clothed  with  no  positive  authority  or  con- 
trol, it  aims  to  encourage  the  growth,  in 
the  public  mind,  of  the  following  princi- 
ples or  features  of  a  national  school  sys- 
tem, namely : — 

The  authority  and  duty  of  the  state 
legislature  to  establish,  aid,  support,  and 
supervise  schools  of  every  grade,  and  all 
institutions  and  agencies  of  education,  sci- 
ence, and  the  arts  ;  security  against  dimi- 
nution or  diversion  of  educational  funds 
and  benefactions  ;  the  certainty  of  a  min- 
imum rate  of  taxation,  sufficient  every 
year  to  secure  the  elementary  instruction 
of  all  children  within  the  state  who  shall 


ponderance,  sympathy  with  the  wants  of 
different  sections  and  occupations,  and 
independence  of  local  or  special  influence; 
a  system  of  inspection,  administered  by 
the  state  board,  intelligent,  professional, 
frequent,  and  independent  of  local  or  in- 
stitutional control,  with  the  widest  and 
fullest  publicity  of  results ;  admission  to 
all  higher  institutions  aided  by  the  state, 
only  on  fitness  to  enter  and  profit  by  the 
eame,  ascertained  by  open  competitive 
examination;  a  retiring  fund,  made  up  of 
an  annual  allowance  by  the  state,  and  an 
equal  payment  by  those  who  register  to 
secure  its  benefits,  conditioned  on  pro- 
longed service  in  the  business  of  teaching; 
and  an  obligation  on  parents  and  guar- 


VIEW  IN  YALE  COLLEGE   OUOII.NDS. 


apply,  by  teachers  professionally  trained, 
and  in  schools  legally  inspected  and  ap- 
proved ;  the  distribution  of  all  state  ap- 
propriations derived  from  taxation  or  funds, 
on  such  conditions  and  in  such  modes  as 
will  secure  local  taxation  or  individual 
eontributions  for  the  same  purpose,  a  lively 
municipal  or  public  interest  in  the  expend- 
iture of  both  sums,  the  constant  co-opera- 
tion of  parents  at  home  in  realizing  the 
work  of  the  school,  and  the  regular  at- 
tendance of  pupils  ;  a  state  board  of  edu- 
cation, having  supervision  of  all  educa- 
tional institutions  incorporated  or  aided 
by  the  state,  and  constituted  in  such  way 
as  to  secure  literary,  scientific,  and  pro- 
fessional attainment  and  experience,  free- 
dom from  denominational  or  party  pre- 


dians  not  to  allow  children  to  grow  tip  in 
barbarism,  ignorance  and  vagrancy, — and 
the  exercise  of  the  elective  franchise,  or 
of  any  public  officer,  to  bo  conditioned  on 
the  ability  of  the  applicant  to  read  under- 
standingly  the  Constitution  and  laws. 

Of  free  public  education  for  females,  it 
may  be  said  that  the  standard  is  now  in 
every  respect  as  high  and  the  opportunities 
as  complete  and  ample,  as  for  the  other 
sex,  and  that  this  fact  relates  to  all  the 
grades  or  graduated  courses  of  instruction, 
from  the  primary  and  grammar  schools  up 
to  the  highest  collegiate  and  university 
institutions.  Normal  schools,  too,  for  the 
professional  training  of  teachers,  so  as  to 
leave  nothing  wanting  in  respect  to  capac- 
ity and  adaptation  for  this  purpose,  have 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


673 


Been  established,  under  legislative  auspices, 
in  u  large  number  of  the  states,  and  the 
principles  and  methods  characterizing 
these  important  adjuncts  to  the  cause 
cover  the  widest  range.  Besides  these 
training  schools,  which  annually  send  forth 
hundreds  of  the  most  accomplished  gradu- 
ates, of  both  sexes,  colleges  exclusively  for 
females  are  to  be  found  in  different  parts 
of  the  land,  conducted  on  a  scale  and  with 
a  degree  of  success  equal  to  the  most  re- 
nowned of  those  for  males  only.  Collegiate 
institutions  designed  for  the  joint  educa- 
tion of  the  two  sexes  constitute  another 
feature  of  the  advanced  American  system. 
The  fact  seems  almost  incredible,  that, 
though  there  were  but  twenty-five  colleges 


times  and  the  present — any  considerable 
pictorial  views  of  the  superb  buildings, 
now  so  numerous,  which  have  been  erected 
to  meet  the  wants  of  these  institutions. 

Harvard,  Yale,  and  Columbia  (or  King's) 
colleges  are  the  most  ancient  and  cele- 
brated in  America,  and  may  be  considered 
the  mother,  of  all.  From  the  smallest 
beginnings,  their  prosperity  and  enlarge- 
ment have  continued  until  the  present 
day.  Harvard  was  founded  in  1636,  the 
intention  of  its  originators  and  benefac- 
tors being  the  preparation  of  young  men 
for  the  ministry  and  as  teachers.  Its  de- 
partments— academic,  theology,  law,  medi- 
cine, science,  etc., — are  so  complete  as  to 
fairly  represent  the  highest  order  of  clas- 


\KVARD  rOLLEOE  GROUNDS. 


in  the  United  States  in  the  year  1800,  the 
number  had  increased  nearly  fifteen  times 
during  the  three-fourths  of  a  century  suc- 
ceeding, these  being  manned  by  a  profes- 
sorial corps  of  nearly  four  thousand,  and 
the  number  of  students  falling  but  little 
short  of  fifty-seven  thousand, — a  remarka- 
ble fact,  indeed,  and  of  appropriate  men- 
tion in  connection  with  the  statement  that, 
at  the  same  period,  the  number  of  pupils 
enrolled  in  the  free  public  schools  was 
some  eight  millions. 

The  number  of  colleges  and  universities 
being  thus  among  the  hundreds,  renders 
quite  impossible  any  attempt  to  present — 
except  in  a  few  instances,  for  the  purpose 
of  showing  the  contrast  between  former 


sical  learning  on  this  continent.  Yale 
college  was  founded  in  1700,  and  its  ad- 
vantages and  reputation  have  always  been 
unexcelled.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Co- 
lumbia, Brown,  Princeton,  Hamilton,  La- 
fayette, &c ,  &c.  Columbia  college  was 
founded  in  1754 ;  the  university  of  North 
Carolina  dates  back  to  1789 ;  that  of  South 
Carolina  to  1801 ;  the  Ohio  university  to 
1804;  and  the  university  of  Virginia,  in 
the  establishment  of  which  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son was  so  prominent  and  influential,  was 
organized  in  1819. 

The  efforts  put  forth  at  the  west,  in  this 
direction,  during  the  last  half  century  in 
especial,  have  been  simply  amazing — only 
commensurate,  however,  with  the  magnifi- 


674 


TWO  HUNDRED  YEARS  OF  EDUCATION. 


cent  scale  upon  which  all  enterprises  in 
that  vast,  active,  and  prosperous  region  are 
planned,  and  which  thus  so  truly  reflect 
the  intelligence,  wisdom,  moral  and  politi- 
cal genius,  and  wealth,  of  that  great  peo- 
ple. Nor  has  the  activity  in  this  splendid 
field  of  educational  achievement  been  con- 
fined to  any  particular  race,  party,  or  de- 
nomination, the  various  Christian  bodies 
of  almost  every  name,  in  fact,  being  repre- 
sented— Baptist,  Methodist,  Presbyterian, 
Congregationalist,  Roman  Catholic,  Chris- 
tian, Universalist,  Unitarian,  Episcopalian, 
Lutheran,  &c.,  &c. 

The  larger  number  of  these  institutions 
are  not  only  of  comparatively  recent  origin, 
but  have  reached  a  surprising  degree  or 
condition  of  prosperity,  and  in  not  a  few 
instances  is  this  due  to  the  princely  endow- 
ments made  by  individuals.  Kentucky 
University  will  forever  be  associated  with 
the  name  of  Bowman,  Cornell  with  its 
munificent  founder,  and  so  of  many  others, 
not  alone  at  the  west,  but  in  other  sections 
of  the  country  as  well.  In  Indiana,  Mich- 
igan, Missouri,  Illinois,  Wisconsin,  Missis- 
sippi, Iowa,  Ohio,  Minnesota,  Kansas, 
California, — in  fact,  throughout  the  whole 
vast  area  of  country  which  scarcely  had 
name  or  knowledge  when  the  war  for  inde- 


pendence was  being  waged  by  the  thirteen 
colonies, — are  found  seats  of  learning  from 
which  the  four  great  professions  are  annu- 
ally recruited,  to  say  nothing  of  the  inde- 
pendent fields  of  literature,  science  and 
art,  in  some  leading  specialty  of  which, 
independent  of  the  standard  professions, 
so  many  find  their  life's  occupation  and 
achievements. 

In  the  opinion  of  some  of  the  wisest 
educators  of  the  present  day, — an  opinion 
also  expressed  by  Prof.  Hoyt,  in  one  of 
his  invaluable  papers  on  the  conduct  of 
universities, — the  question  is  one  of  great 
importance,  whether  the  cause  of  the 
higher  culture  and  the  interests  of  educa- 
tion generally  would  not  be  better  pro- 
moted by  raising  the  standards  of  admis- 
sion and  graduation  quite  above  the  usual 
low  level ;  thus  putting  all  truly  prepara- 
tory work  upon  the  high  schools,  acade- 
mies, and  colleges,  where  it  properly 
belongs,  and  employing  the  whole  instruc- 
tional force  of  the  university  in  meeting 
the  demand  for  instruction  in  the  higher 
departments  of  learning.  There  would 
seem  to  be  no  doubt,  that,  in  a  very  large 
sense,  this  question  lies  at  the  foundation 
of  the  future  of  American  university  edu- 
cation— its  character — its  results. 


LXXXI. 

CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL  IN  THE 
UNITED  STATES.— 1875. 


The  Venerable  Archbishop  McClosky,  of  New  York,  Selected  by  the  Roman  Pontiff,  for  this  Great 
Office. — He  becomes  a  Prince  in  the  Church. — The  Highest  Ecclesiastical  Appointment  in  the  Catholic 
Hierarchy. — Reasons  given  for  this  Step. — Solemn  Investiture,  in  the  Cathedral,  by  Clerical  Dignitaries 
from  All  Parts  of  the  Country. — An  Unparalleled  Scene. — Illustrious  Nature  of  this  Office. — Special 
Envoy  sent  from  Rome. — Announcing  the  Event  to  the  Archbishop. — Time  of  Public  Recognition 
Assigned. — A  Mighty  Stream  of  Humanity. — Decorations  of  the  Church. — Procession  of  Priests. — 
Incensing  the  Altars. — Sacred  Vessels  and  Vestments. — Insignia  Peculiar  to  this  Rank. — The  Scarlet 
Cap. — Profoundly  Impressive  Service. — Unprecedented  on  this  Continent. — Imposing  the  Berretta. — 
Intoning  and  Chanting. — Official  Letter  from  the  Pope. — Use  of  the  Latin  Language. — Inspiring  Strains 
of  Music. — Incidents  Attending  the  Ceremonial. — Pontifical  Benediction  by  the  Cardinal. — Retirement 
of  the  Celebrants. — Dispersion  of  the  Vast  Throng. 


"  It  wai  the  intent  «nd  purpose  of  the  holy  father  to  give  honor  to  our  whole  country;  to  give  honor  and  ihow  hi«  detp  reipect  >nd  eiteem 
for  onr  great  and  elorious  republic,  of  which  the  Catholic  population  form  BO  eMential  a  part,  and  who  are  BO  loyally  devoted  to  her  inetitu- 
tioni."— CABDIXAL  McCLOSKeY's  ADDBESS. 


1 


THE  GltEAT  '  ATHKpRAf. 


T  may  not   be  inappropriate,  perhaps,  to  state,  first,  that  a 
cardinal  is  an  ecclesiastical  prince  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
church, — an  official  of  the  most  illustrious  character,  there- 
fore, in  that  hierarchy, — second,  in  fact,  only  to  the  pope 
himself,  in  point  of  rank, — and,  among  his  very  highest  pre- 
rogatives, is  that  of  having  a  voice  and  vote  in  the  conclave 
of  cardinals  at  the  election  of  a  pope,  who  is  taken   from 
their  number.     The  limit  is  seventy,  and  these  also  consti- 
tute the  sacred  college,  and  compose  the  pope's 
council.     The  distinguishing  dress  of  a  cardi- 
nal  is  a  red  sontaine  or  cassock,  a  rochet,  a 
bhort  purple  mantle,  and  a  red  hat. 

As  usual,  in  such  a  case,  a  special  envoy  was 
sent  from  Eome,  to  bear  to  the  eminent  ap- 
pointee the  papal  briefs.  Count  Marefoschi, 
of  the  pope's  household,  was  deputed  for  this 
purpose,  and  by  him  the  official  announcement 
was  duly  made  to  the  venerable  prelate,  and 
various  insignia  of  his  new  rank  presented  to 
him.  One  special  article  of  dress,  however, 
pertaining  to  the  cardinalate, — namely,  the 
cappello — has  to  be  received  directly  from  the 


676 


CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIEST  CARDINAL. 


hands  of  the  pope  himself  ;  the  article  thus 
named  is  the  flat-topped,  wide-brimmed  hat, 
from  which  depend  two  large  tassels,  and 
which  is  worn  on  the  most  exalted  occa- 
sions. 

In  handing  to  the  cardinal  the  papal 
letter  and  the  special  insignia — a  scarlet 
skull  cap, — the  envoy  stated  that  the  ob- 
jects had  in  view  by  the  holy  father  in  this 
step,  were,  first,  to  recognize  and  reward 


in  from  all  quarters  to  witness  the  solemn 
and  impressive  pageant — the  first  of  its 
kind  since  the  settlement  of  our  country. 
At  the  gate  of  entrance,  the  scene  was 
one  long  to  be  remembered  by  the  vast 
multitude— old  men  and  women,  young 
men  and  maidens — who  there  sought,  with 
almost  mortal  struggle,  admission  to  the 
portals  of  the  sacred  edifice. 

lu  the  decorations  of  the  cathedral,  the 


ARCHBISHOP   MCCLOSKEY,   THE  FIRST   AMEKICAK  CARDINAL. 


the  personal  merits  and  distinguished  ser- 
vices to  the  Church  of  the  archbishop 
himself;  second,  to  testify  his  regard  for 
and  pay  a  just  tribute  to  the  piety  and 
zeal  of  the  Catholics  of  America ;  and 
third,  to  acknowledge,  in  an  especial  man- 
ner, his  appreciation  of  all  that  the  Cath- 
olics of  the  diocese  of  New  York  had 
accomplished  for  religion. 

The  27th  of  April  was  the  time  assigned 
for  the  public  ceremonial  of  consecration, 
and  a  mighty  stream  of  humanity  poured 


choicest  taste  was  exercised.  The  sanctu- 
ary was  festooned  with  scarlet  cloth  orna- 
mented with  gold  lace  and  fringe,  while 
over  the  cross,  at  the  top  of  the  altar,  was 
arranged,  in  gas  jets,  'Te  Deum  Lauda- 
mus,'  and  the  floral  decorations  on  the 
altar  itself  were  profuse  and  elegant  in 
the  extreme.  On  either  side  of  the  tab- 
ernacle were  floral  columns  of  choice  ex- 
otics, fully  three  feet  in  length  and  a  foot 
in  diameter,  composed  of  roses,  camellias 
and  calla  lilies,  surmounted  by  a  red  cross 


CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL. 


677 


of  carnation  pinks,  while  other  floral  de- 
signs of  every  description  were  strewn 
about  in  graceful  profusion.  The  gallery, 
wliirh  had  been  set  apart  for  the  sole  use 
of  the  choir,  was  hung  with  crimson  cloth 
fringed  with  gilt,  and  caught  up  with 
heavy  gold  tassels ;  in  the  centre  was 
looped  the  papal  banner,  while  on  either 
side  hung  the  stars  and  stripes. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  the  pope's  legate, 
supported  by  his  secretary  and  the  master 
of  ceremonies,  came  from  the  sacristy, 
bearing  the  berretta  and  the  papal  briefs, 
and  deposited  the  treasures  at  the  left  of 
the  cardinal's  throne,  the  berretta,  in  this 
case,  being  of  the  color  peculiar  to  the 
cardinalship.  In  a  few  moments  came  the 
procession  of  priests,  in  their  priestly  cas- 
socks and  short  surplices,  and,  shortly 
after,  the  dignitaries  came  forth  from  the 
same  sacristy  door ;  first  came  a  company 
of  acolytes ;  then  the  archbishops  and 
bishops,  mitred  and  arrayed  in  all  the 
insignia  of  their  order;  then  the  pope's 
legate ;  and  next  His  Eminence  the  car- 
dinal, his  train  borne  by  two  boys.  Be- 
hind the  cardinal  came  Count  Marefoschi, 
in  the  uniform  of  the  papal  guard  ;  then 
another  procession  of  priests,  closed  by 
the  Dominican  monks  in  white,  and  the 
Franciscans  in  brown  robes.  The  bodies 
composing  the  procession  being  duly  ar- 
ranged, the  church  was  now  filled  with 
joyous  music  from  the  choir. 

Cardinal  McCloskey  was,  of  course,  the 
noteworthy  figure  in  this  dazzling  assem- 
bly. He  wore  a  light  purple  or  mauve  cas- 
sock, a  white  surplice,  and  a  velvet  manta- 
letta  qf  deep  purple  ;  about  his  neck  was  a 
gold  chain,  from  which  was  suspended  a 
ponderous  cross,  blazing  with  magnificent 
gems ;  on  his  head  was  a  black  berretta — 
a  small  cap  with  three  crests  which  run 
from  the  central  point  on  top  to  the  other 
edge, — which,  upon  removal,  showed  be- 
neath it  the  small  scarlet  skull  cap,  the 
well  known  sacerdotal  insignia.  His  tall 
spare  person,  towering  over  the  larger 
number  near  him,  and  his  finely  intellect- 
ual and  energetic  face,  gave  decided  char- 
acter to  the  scene.  All  the  bishops,  with 


their  gorgeous  mitres  and  copes  of  gold 
and  silver  and  sheeny  satin,  embroidered 
in  various  colors  ;  the  cardinal  tranquilly 
seated  on  his  throne;  the  gigantic  guard, 
in  the  person  of  Count  Marefoschi,  mag- 
nificently attired,  at  his  left;  Archbishop 
Bayley,  on  the  throne  beyond  the  blazing 
altar,  whose  wealth  of  flowers  and  their 
tender  hues  became  well  nigh  lost  in  the 
dazzle  and  blaze  of  the  firmament  of  can- 
dles ;  the  sober  yet  superb  decorations  of 
the  whole  altar  and  sanctuary,  and  the 
storm  of  music  that  swept  over  all ; — it 
was  a  spectacle  never  to  be  forgotten. 

Cardinal  McCloskey,  wearing  his  rochet, 
purpie  cassock,  etc ,  knelt  at  the  epistle 
altar;  the  archbishop  of  Baltimore  sat  on 
the  same  side;  the  officiating  prelate  and 
clergymen  stood  at  the  altar  steps  ;  and 
mass  was  commenced.  At  the  confiteor, 
the  cardinal  stood  up.  and  proceeded  to 
his  throne  at  the  gospel  side,  he  alone  of 
all  the  prelates  present  having  a  pastoral 
staff,  which  was  carried  by  an  officiating 
bishop.  After  incensing  the  altar  three 
times,  he  sat  down  with  the  deacon  and  sub- 
deacon.  Bishop  Loughiiu  read  'Introit,' 
recited  'Kyrie,'  and  intoned  'Gloria  in 
Excelsis,'  which  was  afterwards  sung  by  the 
choir.  Collects  were  read  by  the  celebrant, 
the  'Epistle'  by  the  sub-deacon,  and,  while 
Bishop  Loughlin  read  the  'Gospel,'  the 
congregation  rose  to  their  feet ;  he  then 
chanted  'Credo  in  Unum  Deurn,'  and  in  a 
low  voice  recited  the  remainder  of  the 
Nicene  Creed. 

At  this  point,  after  the  choir  had  fin- 
ished, Bishop  Loughlin  repaired  to  the 
altar,  where,  after  the  customary  'Domi- 
nus  vobiscum  '  and  'Oremus,'  he  proceeded 
to  read  prayers  at  the  offertory.  The  dea- 
con and  sub-deacon  then  prepared  sacred 
vessels  and  bread  and  wine.  Mercan- 
dante's  'Quam  dilecta'  was  sung  during 
this  period.  Acolytes  then  advanced  wilh 
censers  and  the  altar  was  incensed  by  the 
celebrant,  the  archbishop  and  bishop  ris- 
ing and  removing  their  mitres,  the  priests 
and  entire  congregation  also  rising.  At 
this  time,  the  church  was  a  level  sea  of 
heads,  and,  when  the  bells  tinkled  to  an- 


878 


CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL. 


nonnce  the  opening  of  canon  or  solemn 
part  of  the  ceremony,  the  people  were  un- 
able to  kneel,  so  tightly  were  they  packed 
together.  Toward  the  end  of  the  mass, 
•was  observed  the  interesting  ceremony  of 
giving  the  'pax,'  or  kiss  of  peace, — not 


left  hand  side  of  the  altar,  and  the  arch- 
bishop of  Baltimore  stepped  down  from 
his  throne  and  knelt  at  the  epistle  side. 
Ablegate  Roncetti  stood  beside  Archbishop 
Bayley,  and  in  a  loud  clear  voice  read  the 
message,  in  Latin,  from  the  Pope  to  his 


CONSECRATION   OF  THE  FIRST   AMERICAN  CARDINAL. 


exactly  a  kiss,  but  an  inclination  of  heads 
together,  while  the  hands  rest  on  others' 
arms.  'Pax'  was  given  from  one  to  the 
other  until  it  passed  along  to  right  and 
left,  all  through  the  crowded  sanctuary. 

When  mass  was  finished,  the  most  nota- 
ble scene  of  the  great  occasion  commenced. 
Cardinal  McCloskey  rose  and  knelt  at  the 


venerabilis  f  rater,  giving  the  reasons  which 
induced  him  to  confer  the  cardinalate  upon 
Archbishop  McCloskey,  and  at  its  close 
handed  him  the  parchment  'brief,' author- 
izing him  to  confer  the  berretta,  in  the 
name  of  His  Holiness,  on  this  newly  ap- 
pointed prince  of  the  Church.  The  arch- 
bishop having  replied,  in  the  Latin  Ian- 


CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIRST  CARDINAL. 


679 


guage,  delivered  the  brief  to  a  deacon  of 
the  mass,  and,  after  reading  it,  Count 
Marefoschi  surrendered  the  berretta  to 
Mgr.  Roncetti,  who,  handing  it  to  Arch- 
bishop Bayley,  the  latter  walked  over  to 
Cardinal  McCloskey  and  placed  the  cap 
on  his  head,  at  the  same  time  addressing 
him  as  'Eminentia  tua.'  Cardinal  Mc- 
Closkey made  a  suitable  reply,  in  the 
Latin  vernacular,  and,  after  intoning  'Te 
Deum,'  retired  to  the  vestry,  where  he  put 
on  the  crimson  robes  of  his  office,  and  re- 
turned to  the  altar,  while  the  choir  sang 
'  Te  Deum.' 

The  interest,  both  ecclesiastical  and 
historical,  pertaining  to  the  papal  docu- 
ments referred  to,  entitle  them  to  an  in- 
sertion in  this  place.  The  first  of  these, 
couched  in  the  usual  phraseology  of  com- 
munications of  such  grave  importance,  is 
addressed — 

'  To  our  Venerable  Brother,  JAMES  ROOSE- 
VELT BAYLEY,  Archbishop  of  Baltimore. 
Pius  IX.,  Pope.  Venerable  Brother, 
Health  and  Apostolic  Benediction  : 
After  the  example  of  the  Roman  Pontiffs, 
our  predecessors,  it  has  ever  been  our  care  to 
fill  the  College  of  Cardinals,  which  is  the  Sen- 
ate of  the  Church,  with  men  whose  piety, 
virtue,  and  merits,  should  correspond  to  the 
splendor  of  so  great  a  dignity.  It  is  this  that 
has  moved  us  to  proclaim  Cardinal  of  the 
Holy  Roman  Church,  our  Venerable  Brother, 
JOHN  MCCLOSKEY,  Archbishop  of  New  York ; 
whose  piety,  learning,  devotion  to  His  Holy 
Apostolic  See,  and  whose  indefatigable  zeal 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  Lord's  Vineyard, 
have  been  so  conspicuously  evident  to  Us  that 
we  have  thought  him  worthy  of  this  great 
honor.  And  now  that  we  would  choose  a  per- 
sonage for  the  office  of  conferring  upon  him 
the  berretta,  one  of  the  insignia  of  his  new 
dignity,  we  have  thought  well  to  select  for  the 
office  you,  venerable  brother,  who  presides  over 
so  illustrious  a  church,  and  one  that  has  the 
right  of  precedence  over  all  the  churches  of 
the  United  States  of  America.  We  know  that 
such  is  your  devotion  toward  us  and  toward 
this  chair  of  the  blessed  Peter,  that  we  are 
confident  you  will,  in  the  discharge  of  this 
office,  fulfill  all  our  expectations.  We,  there- 
fore, by  these  presents,  charge  you,  venerable 
brother,  that,  strictly  observing  whatever  is 
prescribed  by  the  sacred  rites  of  the  Roman 


Church,  you  confer,  in  our  name  and  in  his 
own  Cathedral  church,  upon  our  beloved  son, 
JOHN  MCCLOSKEY,  proclaimed  by  us  a  Cardi- 
nal of  the  Holy  Roman  Church,  the  scarlet 
berretta,  which  we  have  sent  to  him  by  the 
hand  of  our  beloved  son,  C^ESAK  RONCETTI, 
one  of  our  private  chamberlains ;  and  we, 
therefore,  through  these  presents,  by  the  same 
apostolic  authority,  grant  you  all  the  powers 
necessary  and  proper  for  the  purpose.  And  it 
is  our  wish  that  nothing  contained  in  any 
other  ordinance  shall  be  construed  thwarting 
our  purpose,  even  though  such  thing  might 
seem  to  require  special  and  individual  men- 
tion. 

Given  in  Rome,  at  St.  Peter's,  under  the 
seal  of  the  Fisherman's  Ring,  on  the  16th  day 
of  March,  anno  Domini  1875,  and  of  our  Pon- 
tificate the  twenty-ninth. 

[L.  s.]  F.  CARDINAL  ASQUINI.' 

The  above  letter  was  followed  by  one 
which  announced  to  the  distinguished  pre- 
late, personally,  that  His  Holiness  had  been 
pleased  to  make  him  one  of  the  princes 
of  the  Church,  and  was  addressed — 

'To  our  Beloved  Son,  JOHN  MCCLOSKEY— by 
the  Appointment  and  Favor  of  the  Apos- 
tolic of  our  Archbishop  of  New  York,  and 
now  proclaimed  a  Cardinal  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Church.  Pius  IX.,  Pope.  Beloved 
Son,  Health  and  Apostolic  Benediction: 
Having  been  placed,  through  the  Divine 
will,  without  any  merit  of  ours,  in  the  supreme 
dignity  of  this  Apostolic  See,  with  that  solici- 
tude which  should  be  characteristic  of  our 
pastoral  office,  while  laboring  for  the  welfare 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  we  have  ever  sought 
to  enroll  among  the  number  of  our  venerable 
brethren  the  Cardinals  of  the  Holy  Roman 
Church,  men  of  such  conspicuous  merit  as  the 
dignity  of  their  illustrious  order  demands. 
For  this  reason  it  is  that  we  have  chosen  you, 
our  well-beloved  son,  whose  eminent  piety, 
virtue  and  learning,  and  zeal  for  the  propaga- 
tion of  the  Catholic  faith,  have  convinced  us 
that  your  ministry  would  be  of  great  utility 
and  honor  to  the  Church  of  God.  Having, 
therefore,  created  you  a  Cardinal  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Church,  we  send  to  you,  by  our  be- 
loved son,  C^ESAU  RONCETTI,  one  of  our  secret 
chamberlains,  the  scarlet  berretta,  which  is 
one  of  the  insignia  of  that  sublime  dignity. 
When,  with  the  proper  forms,  it  shall  have 
been  conferred  upon  you,  know  that  Its  shin- 
ii\g  crimson  should  ever  remind  him  who  is 


680 


CONSECRATION  OF  THE  FIBST  CAEDIXAL. 


elevated  to  the  Cardinalitiai  dignity,  that, 
fearless  and  unconquered,  lie  must  ever  up- 
hold the  rights  of  the  Church  of  God  through 
every  danger,  even  to  that  shedding  of  his 
blood  which  is  pronounced  precious  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord.  We  also  greatly  desire  that 
you  would  receive,  with  all  manner  of  kind- 
ness, him  who  we  have  sent  to  you,  both  for 
tke  sake  of  the  mission  upon  which  he  is  sent 
and  for  our  sake.  It  is  also  our  wish,  that, 
before  you  receive  the  berretta,  you  should 
take  and  subscribe  with  your  own  hand,  the  oath 
which  will  be  presented  to  you  by  the  afore- 
mentioned, our  beloved  son,  CAESAR  RONCETTI, 
and  send  it  to  us,  cither  by  his  hand,  or  any 
other.  And  it  is  our  wish  that  no  persons, 
constitutions  or  ordinances,  of  this  Apostolic 
See,  or  anything  else  whatsoever,  shall  be  con- 
strued as  invalidating  this  our  present  act. 

Given  in  Rome,  at  St.  Peter's,  under  the 
seal  of  the  Fisherman's  Ring,  on  the  2Gth  day 
of  March,  anno  Domini  1875,  and  of  our  Pon- 
tificate the  twenty-ninth. 

[L-  s.]  F.  CARDINAL  ASQCIXI. 

The  closing  act  in  this  solemn  pageant, 
after  the  inspiring  strains  of  music  had 
ceased  to  fill  the  air,  was  the  pontifical  bene- 
diction by  the  Cardinal,  and,  after  the  re- 
tirement of  the  celebrants  in  processional 
order,  the  vast  throng  of  spectators  dis- 
persed. The  new  Cardinal  entered  upon  his 
great  office  with  the  reputation,  accorded  to 
him  alike  by  Protestants  and  Catholics,  of 
a  name  without  a  stain,  and  a  career  honor- 
able and  dignified,  through  a  long  life. 

It  is  certainly  not  saying  too  much,  that, 
in  the  annals  of  American  Catholicism,  so 
memorable  a  ceremonial  as  that  now  des- 
cribed must  render  historical,  in  the  high- 
est degree,  the  sacred  edifice  in  which  it 
occurred.  But  only  a  few  years  elapsed, 
after  this  unprecedented  occasion,  when  the 
venerable  Cardinal  had  the  satisfaction  of 
officiating  at  the  dedication  of  the  new  and 
magnificent  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  just 
completed  on  Fifth  Avenue, — the  most 
superb  ecclesiastical  structure  not  only  in 
New  York  city,  but  on  the  American  conti- 
nent. The  dedication  took  place  May  25, 
1879,  or  nearly  twenty-one  years  after  the 
laying  of  the  corner-stone.  The  founda- 
tions rest  on  a  bed  of  solid  rock,  in  which 
excavations  therefor  had  to  be  made,  and 


at  the  normal   level  of   the  surrounding 
ground  rests  a  chisel-dressed  base  course  of 
granite.      From  this  springs  a  pure  Gothic 
marble   superstructure,   similar   in   archi- 
tecture to  the  style  obtaining  in   Europe 
during  the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  cen- 
turies, and,  like  the  cathedrals  of  Amiens, 
Eheims,   and  Cologne,  this  is  free   from 
heaviness  and  over-ornamentation.  .  Most 
of  the  windows  on  the  lower  tier  were  do- 
nations from  various  churches,  and  some 
are  of  American  make ;  those  of  the  nave 
were  ordered  by  Cardinal  McCloskey,  when 
visiting  Eome.     These   windows  are  de- 
clared by  good  judges  to  be  masterpieces 
of  art.     The  interior  of  the  edifice  is  di- 
vided into  three  parts — transept,  nave,  and 
choir, — of  dimensions  as  follows :   Length 
of  transept,  140  feet ;  height  of  nave,  108 
feet;  internal  length  of  the  building.  306 
feet,  and   breadth   96  feet.     A  series   of 
chapels,    each    twelve   feet    deep,    occupy 
either  side  of  the  edifice ;  the  nave  is  di- 
vided from  the  aisles  by  two  rows  of  clus- 
tered columns,  sixteen  columns  in  a  row ; 
the  choir  has  five  bays,  and  arranged  with 
double  aisles  on  either  side  of  the  central 
aisle.     The  area  of  the  interior  of  the  ca- 
thedral  is  38,500   square   feet;    there   is 
standing    room    for    19,000    people,    and 
14,000  can  be  accommodated  with  seats. 
The  cost  of  the  cathedral,  when  completed, 
will  approximate  $5,000,000.      The  first 
event  in  connection  with  the  dedication  of 
the  edifice  was  the  solemn  consecration, 
two  days  previously,  of  the  High  Altar, 
the  chief  consecrator  being  the  Right  Eev. 
Bishop  Conroy,  of  Albany,  N.  Y.     This 
grand  altar,  exquisite  in  material,  design, 
and  artistic  beauty,  stands  forty-eight  feet 
in  height  to  the  apex  of  the  cross  sur- 
mounting the  tabernacle.     The  number  of 
eminent  prelates  present  was  quite  large 
comprising  not  less  than  six  archbishops, 
in  cope  and  mitre,  followed  by  the  bishops, 
similarly  attired,  and  making  in  all  a  gath- 
ering of  forty-three  members  of  the  Epis- 
copacy.    The  scene  of  the  dedication,  un- 
der the  lead,  primarily,  of  the  eminent  and 
venerable  Cardinal,  was  impressive  to  a 
degree  rarely  witnessed  on  American  soil. 


LXXXII. 

"  MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE,"  OR  FOUR  NEW  WONDERS  OF 

THE  WORLD.— 1876. 


The  Electric  Light,  or  Brilliant  and  Abundant  Illumination  by  Means  of  Electricity. — The  Telephone, 
or  Instantaneous  Articulate  Communication  between  Distant  Points.— The  Phonograph,  or  talking  Ma- 
chine, Reproducing  and  Preserving  Human  Utterances,  whether  of  Speech  or  Song,  in  all  their  charac- 
teristics.— The  Microphone,  or  Prodigious  Magnifier  of  Sound,  however  Slight  or  Remote. — Splendor 
of  the  Electric  Rays. — Former  Inventions  in  this  Line. — Prof.  Farmer's  Early  Success.— Edison's  Im- 
proved Device.— Its  Special  Characteristics.— Sanguine  Expectations  Entertained.— Interest  Excited  by 
the  Telephone.— Enconiums  from  English  Sources.— Principles  of  Construction  and  Use.— Simplicity 
and  Serviceableness  —  Tens  of  Thousands  in  Operation.— How  the  Phonograph  was  Developed.— Other 
Inventions  Fairly  Eclipsed.— Its  Appearance,  Form,  Outcome.— Words  and  Tones  Recorded.— Aston- 
ishment and  Delight.  Its  Five  Chief  Features.— Marvels  of  the  Microphone.— A  Touch  or  Tick  Audible 
for  Miles.— Arrangement  of  the  Apparatus.— Curious  Feats  Accomplished. — Explanation  of  this 
property. 


"  The  realm  of  scientific  inve«tig«uon  U  actively  occupied  at  present  by  our  American  contini,  mnd  with  result,  limply  utoundlm." 

— LONDOS  TIMES. 


HE  '•  miracles  of  science,"  or  the  "  four  new  wonders  of  the  world,"  is  the 
familiar  phraseology  with  which  those  remarkable  achievements  in  the  world 
of  discovery  and  invention — the  Electric  Light,  the  Telephone, 
the  Phonograph,  and  the  Microphone, — are  referred  to,  and  the 
American  citizen  may  well  speak  with  pride  of  those  accomplish- 
ments, from  the  fact  that  they  are,  either  exclusively  or  in  the 
most  promising  sense,  the  offspring  of  his  own  native  land.  The 
first  of  these,  the  electric  light,  which  has  recently  attracted  such 
attention  as  never  before  was  bestowed  upon  it,  has  been  aptly 
bk  pronounced  the  brightest  meteor  that  has  flashed  across  the  hori- 
™  zon  of  promise  during  the  present  century, — and,  indeed,  the 
splendor  of  the  rays  emitted,  and  the  representations  of  the  small 
cost  required  to  produce  such  an  intense  illumination,  have  led 
many  to  believe  that  gas-lighting  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and 
that  night  would  be  turned  into  day  by  this  wonderful  agent. 

The  evident  priority  of  American  genius  in  this  line,  it  is  safe 
to  assert ;  though  not  alone  in  this  country,  but  in  Europe  as 
well,  electricity  has  been  successfully  employed  in  lighting  assem- 
bly halls,  factories,  depots,  streets,  parks,  lighthouses,  etc., — and 
its  adaptation  for  marine  purposes,  as  exhibited  in  the  accompany- 
ing illustration,  is  looked  upon  as  likely  to  mitigate  the  perils  of 
night  and  of  fogs,  and  increase  the  facilities  of  ocean  enterprise. 


ELECTRIC    LAMF. 


682 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE. 


The  inventions  claiming  to  realize  the 
best  results  in  this  direction  are  very 
numerous,  and  constantly  accumulating. 
Acknowledging,  as  do  all  men  of  science, 
the  practicability  of  the  thing  when  ap- 
plied on  a  large  scale,  and  especially  out 
of  doors,  the  desideratum  of  chief  impor- 
tance has  seemed  to  be  its  application  to 
in-door  service.  That  this  was  accom- 
plished by  Prof.  Farmer,  at  his  home  in 
Salem,  Mass.,  in  1859,  is  abundantly  dem- 
onstrated. To  realize  this  object  conven- 
iently, agreeably,  abundantly  and  inex- 
pensively, many  contrivances  have  been 
brought  forward,  foremost  among  which 
may  be  said  to  be  those  due  to  the  won- 
der-working brain  of  Mr.  Edison. 

This  invention,  as  summarily  described 
by  Mr.  Edison  himself,  consists,  first,  in 
the  combination  with  an  electric  light  of 
a  thermal  circuit  regulator  to  lessen  the 
electric  action  in  the  light  when  the  max- 
imum intensity  has  been  attained ;  the 
combination  with  the  electric  light  of  a 
circuit  closing  lever,  operated  by  heat 
from  the  electric  current  or  from  the 
light,  and  a  shunt  or  short  circuit  to  di- 
vert the  current  or  a  portion  thereof  from 
the  light;  the  combination  with  the  elec- 
tric light  and  a  resistance  of  a  circuit 
closer  operated  by  heat,  and  serving  to 
place  more  or  less  resistance  in  the  circuit 
of  the  light ;  the  combination  with  an 
electric  light  of  a  diaphragm  operated  by 
the  expansion  of  a  gas  or  fluid  in  propor- 
tion to  the  temperature  of  the  light,  to 
regulate  the  electric  current;  the  combi- 
nation with  a  vibrating  body,  similar  to  a 
tuning  fork,  of  mechanism  for  maintain- 
ing the  vibration,  and  magnets,  cores,  and 
helices,  by  means  of  which  a  secondary 
current  is  set  up,  so  as  to  convert  me- 
chanical motion  into  electric  force,  or  the 
reverse ;  and,  finally,  the  combination 
with  the  electric  lights  of  means  for  regu- 
lating the  electric  current  to  the  same,  in 
proportion  to  the  heat  evolved  in  the  light, 
so  as  to  prevent  injury  to  the  apparatus. 
His  improved  alloy  of  the  refractory  met- 
als, and  the  thermo-static  regulator,  are 
the  means,  in  this  case,  of  securing  a  light 


which  is  alleged  to  be  the  most  steady, 
clear,  inexpensive,  and  reliable,  of  any 
electric  light  yet  proposed.  In  other 
words,  the  plan  consists  in  placing  an 
electric  light  in  branch  circuits  passing 
across  from  the  positive  to  the  negative 
conductor,  and  the  lights  are  controlled 
by  switches  which  connect  the  branches 
with  or  disconnect  them  from  the  main 
conductors.  The  lamp  consists  of  a  suita- 
ble standard,  surmounting  which  is  a  trans- 
parent glass  case,  resembling  an  ordinary 
lamp  chimney,  except  that  it  is  closed  at 
the  top  ;  within  this  is  suspended  a  spiral 
of  metal  wire,  hardly  larger  than  a  knit- 
ting needle  in  diameter,  and  about  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  in  length.  When  the 
electricity  is  turned  on,  this  spiral  glows 
with  a  white  light,  of  great  brillianc}'  and 
steadiness.  Should  the  sanguine  expec- 
tations of  the  inventor  of  this  device  be 
realized,  a  revolution  in  artificial  illumi- 
nation, especially  in-doors,  will  indeed 
take  place,  involving,  practically,  the  dis- 
use of  every  other  method  and  material. 

Already,  in  this  country  and  in  Europe, 
the  various  arrangements  for  electric  illu- 
mination which  have  seemed  the  most  prac- 
ticable have  been  put  into  operation,  with 
various  degrees  of  success,  and,  in  the  case 
of  large  inclosures  or  areas,  there  appears 
to  be  no  doubt  as  to  its  superiority.  For 
light-houses,  it  has  some  valuable  points 
of  adaptation,  and  for  various  purposes  at 
sea  its  employment  must  be  found  ex- 
tremely serviceable.  The  results  of  its 
introduction  in  the  light-house  at  South 
Foreland  prove  its  usefulness  in  this  rela- 
tion. The  electric  current  for  this  light 
is  generated  by  means  of  large  magneto- 
electric  machines,  which  are  driven  by 
belting  connected  with  a  steam-engine, 
each  machine  being  composed  of  ninety- 
six  helices,  mounted  upon  six  gun-metal 
wheels,  each  carrying  sixteen  helices ;  be- 
tween these  wheels  are  placed  the  mag- 
nets, eight  in  each  division,  forty  of  which 
are  composed  of  six  layers  or  leaves  riv- 
eted together,  while  the  sixteen  end  ones 
have  but  three  leaves  each.  The  magnets, 
which  are  mounted  in  frames,  are  station- 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE. 


683 


ary,  while  the  helices  revolve  at  the  rate 
of  four  hundred  revolutions  per  minute. 
The  power  absorbed  by  the  electric  ma- 
chine alone,  including  friction,  is  four 
indicated  horse-power.  The  power  of  a 
magneto-electric  machine  is  according  to 
the  gross  attractive  power  of  its  magnets, 
each  magnet  having  a  certain  lifting  or 
attractive  power  expressed  in  pounds.  In 
the  machines  at  South  Foreland,  each  of 
the  six-piate  magnets  lift  one  hundred 
and  eight  pounds,  and  each  of  the  three- 
plate  magnets  fifty-four  pounds,  making 
the  attractive  power  of  the  magnets,  in 
one  machine,  5,184  pounds.  Each  of  the 
six-plate  magnets  weighs  forty-three  and 


by  this  apparatus,  taken  'with  a  dynamo- 
meter, shows  ISjj^j  horse-power,  the  num- 
ber of  lights  being  sixteen  to  seventeen 
to  a  machine,  each  light  being  of  two 
thousand  candle  power. 

The  details  of  the  scientific  principles 
and  of  the  mechanical  intricacies  involved 
in  these  various  remarkable  inventions 
would  cover  many  pages.  It  may  be  stated, 
therefore,  generally,  that  the  carbon  points 


one-half  pounds.  The  machines  are 
connected  by  underground  cables  with 
the  electric  lamps  placed  in  the  lenses 
of  the  tower. 

The  success  which  has  attended  the 
use  of  such  machines  or  devices  as  the 
Lontin,  Gramme-Jablochkoff,  Eapieff, 
Werdermann,  DeMeritens,  Siemens. 
Wallace  Farmer,  Sawyer-Mann,  Brush, 
Fuller,  and  some  others,  shows  that, 
whatever  may  come  of  the  efforts  to 
secure  the  convenient  and  economical 
use  of  electric  illumination  in  dwellings, 
there  can  scarcely  be  a  doubt,  as  has  al- 
ready been  remarked,  of  the  substitution 
of  this  system  for  all  others,  at  no  distant 
day,  outdoors  and  in  halls  and  other  pub- 
lic buildings  of  considerable  size.  Quite 
a  large  number  of  one  of  the  devices  just 
mentioned  have  for  some  time  past  been 
in  operation  in  some  of  the  largest  busi- 
ness and  industrial  establishments  in  the 
United  States ;  the  tests  of  power  absorbed 


ELECTK1C   LIGHT  AT   SEA. 


of  a  powerful  machine  for  electric  illumi- 
nation are  equal  to  the  sun  in  lustre — it  is 
thought  possible,  indeed,  that  even  this 
limit  may  he  overpassed,  as  the  sun  doeo 
not  occupy  the  first  position  in  the  uni- 
verse. In  quantity  and  quality,  too,  the 
electric  light  greatly  exceeds  all  flames  ; 
it  is,  in  fact,  precisely  this  immense  pro- 
fusion of  illuminating  power  that  has 
proved  objectionable.  Nothing  is  easier, 
however,  than  to  reduce  the  lustre  of  the 


684 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE. 


light  to  any  degree  that  may  be  desired — 
that  is,  by  covering  the  arc  with  a  large 
opalescent  globe,  which,  while  hiding  the 
light,  receives  all  the  rays,  and  disperses 
them  in  the  same  way  as  if  the  globe  itself 
were  luminous.  To  be  suitable  for  pur- 
poses of  illumination,  a  light  should  con- 
tain, according  to  chemical  authority,  the 
seven  primitive  colors  of  the  spectrum  in 
certain  proportions  ;  the  flames  of  oil  and 
gas  do  not  contain  the  true  proportions  of 
these,  which  is  the  cause  of  their  inferi- 
ority. The  electric  light  is  while — abso- 
lutely the  same  as  that  of  the  sun — and 
contains  all  the  simple  rays  in  the  same 
proportions.  The  subdivision  of  the  light, 


as  it  is  termed,  to  accomplish  which  in- 
ventors have  put  forth  the  most  ingenious 
endeavors,  is  one  of  the  claimed  peculiar- 
ities of  Edison's  device,  a  single  machine 
being  thus  utilized  for  the  production  of 
several  smaller  illuminators,  instead  of  for 
one  large  volume  of  light. 

We  come  now  to  the  TELEPHONE,  the 
patent  for  which  wonderful  device  was 
taken  out  at  Washington,  in  March,  1876, 
by  Prof.  A.  G.  Bell,  affording  fresh  evi- 
dence of  the  versatility  of  American  in- 
ventive genius.  Though  habitually  sensi- 
tive to  the  honor  and  claims,  in  this  direc- 
tion, of  its  own  countrymen,  the  London 
Westminster  Review  frankly  admits  that, 
of  all  modern  inventions  connected  with 
the  transmission  of  telegraphic  signals, 
the  telephone  has  deservedly  excited  the 
most  widespread  interest  and  astonish- 


ment,— an  instrument  which  undertakes 
not  only  to  convey  intelligible  signals  to 
great  distances  without  the  use  of  a  bat- 
tery, but  to  transmit  in  fac-simile  the 
tones  of  the  human  voice,  so  that  the  lat- 
ter shall  as  certainly  be  recognized  when 
heard  over  a  distance  of  hundreds  of 
miles,  as  if  the  owner  were  speaking  to  a 
friend  at  his  side  in  the  same  room.  The 
telephone — as  the  tens  of  thousands  now 
in  use  show — does  all  this. 

This  marvelous  little  apparatus  pro- 
duces, as  already  remarked,  cheap  and  in- 
stantaneous articulate  communication,  that 
is,  by  direct  sound, — neither  battery,  nor 
moving  machinery,  nor  skill  being  re- 
quired, but  merely  the  voice  of  ordinary 
conversation,  and  attentive  listening.  It 
conveys  the  quality  of  the  voice,  so  that 
the  tone  of  the  person  speaking  can  be 
recognized  at  the  other  end  of  the  line ; 
it  enables  the  manufacturer  to  talk  with 
his  factory  superintendent,  and  the  physi- 
cian with  his  patients ;  establishes  instan- 
taneous intercourse  between  the  main  and 
the  branch  office,  the  home  and  the  store, 
the  country  residence  and  the  stable  or  any 
part  of  the  grounds,  the  mouth  of  the  mine 
and  its  remotest  workings, — in  fact,  be- 
tween any  two  points  miles  apart. 

In  its  mechanism,  the  telephone  consists 
of  a  steel  cylindrical  magnet,  about  five 
inches  long  and  three  eighths  of  an  inch  in 
diameter,  encircled  at  one  extremity  by  a 
short  bobbin  of  wood  or  ebonite,  on  which 
is  wound  a  quantity  of  very  fine  insulated 
copper  wire.  The  magnet  and  coil  are 
contained  in  a  wooden  cylindrical  case. 
The  two  ends  of  the  coil  are  soldered  to 
thicker  pieces  of  copper  wire,  which  trav- 
erse the  wooden  envelope  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  and  terminate  in  the  binding 
screws  at  its  extremity.  Immediately  in 
front  of  the  magnet  is  a  thin  circular  iron 
plate ;  which  is  kept  in  its  place  by  being 
jammed  between  the  main  portion  of  the 
wooden  case,  and  a  wooden  cap  carrying 
the  mouth  or  ear  trumpet.  These  two 
parts  are  screwed  together.  The  latter  is 
cut  away  at  the  centre  so  as  to  expose  a 
portion  of  the  iron  plate,  about  half  an 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE 


685 


inch  in  diameter.  In  the  experiments 
made  to  determine  the  influence  of  the 
various  parts  of  the  telephone  on  the  re- 
sults produced,  and  their  relations  to  each 
other  in  ob:uining  the  hest  effects,  iron 
plates  were  employed  of  various  areas  and 
thicknesses,  from  boiler  plate  of  three- 
eighths'  inch  to  the  thinnest  plate  procur- 
able. Wonderful  to  relate,  it  appeared 
that  scarcely  any  plate  was  too  thin  or  too 
thick  for  the  purpose,  though  that  of  the 
ferrotype  plate  used  by  photographers 
seemed  preferable,  thin  tin  plate  also  an- 
swering very  well.  To  accomplish  the 
purpose  sought,  the  iron  plate  was  cut 
into  the  form  of  a  disk,  about  two  inches 
in  diameter,  and  placed  as  near  as  possible 
to  the  extremity  of  the  steel  magnet  with- 
out actually  touching  it, — the  effect  of 
this  position  being  that,  while  the  induced 
magnetism  of  the  plate  amounted  to  con- 
siderable, it  was  susceptible  to  very  rapid 
changes  owing  to  the  freedom  with  which 
the  plate  could  vibrate.  Good  results  are 
obtainable  by  means  of  a  magnet  only  an 
inch  and  a  half  long,  and  a  working  instru- 
ment need  not  be  too  large  for  the  waist- 
coat pocket.  There  is  no  difference  be- 
tween the  transmitting  and  the  receiving 
telephone,  each  instrument  serving  both 
purposes.  As  already  remarked,  no  skill 
or  training  is  required  for  the  effective 
use  of  the  instrument, — the  operator  has 
merely  to  press  the  apparatus  to  his  ear  to 
hear  distinctly  every  sound  transmitted 
from  the  distant  end.  For  this,  it  is  true, 
an  effort  of  attention  is  required,  and  some 
persons  use  the  instrument  at  the  first 
trial  with  more  success  than  others.  In- 
dividuals differ  in  the  facility  with  which 
they  are  able  to  concentrate  their  attention 
on  one  ear,  so  as  to  be  practically  insensible 
to  what  goes  on  around  them ;  but  this 
habit  of  attention  is  readily  acquired,  and, 
when  once  acquired,  the  telephone  may  be 
used  by  any  one  who  has  ears  to  hear  and 
a  tongue  to  speak.  In  sending  a  message, 
the  instrument  is  held  about  an  inch  in 
front  of  the  mouth,  and  the  sender  merely 
talks  into  the  mouthpiece  in  his  ordinary 
natural  manner.  The  words  are  repeated 


by  the  instrument  at  the  other  end  of  the 
circuit  with  the  same  pitch,  the  same 
cadences,  and  the  same  relative  loudness; 
one  voice  is  readily  distinguished  from 
another,  the  character  of  the  speaker's 
voice  being  faithfully  preserved  and  repro- 
duced. Other  instruments  of  this  nature, 
or  improvements  upon  it,  brought  forward 
by  Gray,  Dolbear,  Edison,  Phelps,  and 
others,  cover  substantially  the  same  gen- 
eral principles  of  construction  and  method 
Following  closely  in  point  of  time,  and, 
if  possible,  really  eclipsing  in  wonderful- 
ness  the  invention  just  named,  is  Edison's 
PHONOGRAPH,  discovered  purely  by  acci- 


PHOXOGRAPH. 


dent, — a  simple  apparatus,  consisting,  in 
its  original  mechanism,  of  a  simple  cylin- 
der of  hollow  brass  mounted  upon  a  shaft, 
at  one  end  of  which  is  a  crank  for  turning 
it,  and  at  the  other  a  balance-wheel,  the 
whole  being  supported  by  two  iron  up- 
rights. 

In  front  of  the  cylinder  is  a  movable  bar 
or  arm,  which  supports  a  mouthpiece  of 
gutta-percha,  on  the  side  of  which  is  a 
disk  of  thin  metal,  such  as  is  used  for  tak- 
ing 'tin-type'  pictures.  Against  the  cen- 
tre of  the  lower  side  of  this  disk,  a  fine 
steel  point  is  held  by  a  spring  attached  to 
the  rim  of  the  mouthpiece ;  an  india-rubber 
cushion  between  the  point  and  the  disk 
controls  the  vibration  of  the  spring.  The 
cylinder  is  covered  with  a  fine  spiral  groove 
running  continuously  from  end  to  end. 

In  using  the  Phonograph,  the  first  opera- 
tion is  to  wrap  a  sheet  of  tin-foil  close 
around  the  cylinder;  the  mouthpiece  is 
then  adjusted  against  the  left-hand  end  of 
the  cylinder  so  closely  that  the  vibration 
of  the  voice  on  the  disk  will  cause  the 
point  to  press  the  tin-foil  into  the  groove, 
making  minute  indentations  resembling, 
on  a  very  small  scale,  the  characters  of 
the  Morse  telegraph.  The  cylinder  is 
moved  from  right  to  left  by  the  screw 


686 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE. 


crank,  so  nicely  adjusted  that  the  steel 
point  is  always  against  the  centre  of  the 
spiral  groove.  While  turning  the  crank, 
the  operator  talks  into  the  mouthpiece  in 
a  voice  slightly  elevated  above  the  ordi- 
nary tone  of  conversation.  Every  vibra- 
tion of  his  voice  is  faithfully  recorded  on 
the  tin-foil  by  the  steel  point,  the  cylinder 
making  about  one  revolution  to  a  word. 
In  order  to  reproduce  the  words — that  is, 
to  make  the  machine  talk, — the  cylinder 
is  turned  back,  so  that  the  steel  point  may 
go  over  the  indentations  made  by  speak- 
ing into  the  mouthpiece.  A  funnel,  like  a 
speaking  trumpet,  is  attached  to  the  mouth- 
piece, to  keep  the  sounds  from  scatter- 
ing. Now,  turning  the  crank  again,  every 
word  spoken  into  the  mouthpiece  is  ex- 
actly reproduced,  with  the  utmost  distinct- 
ness, to  the  astonishment  and  delight  of  the 
hearer.  Thus  the  disk  is  either  a  tympa- 
num or  a  diaphragm,  as  the  case  may  be, 
the  first  when  it  listens,  the  second  when 
it  talks.  Of  course,  the  original  device 
would,  true  to  the  characteristic  of  Ameri- 
can inventive  genius,  be  carried  forward 
from  step  to  step,  in  its  mechanism  and 
capabilities.  It  soon  became  a  beautiful 
construction,  nothing  being  lost  sight  of 
in  the  way  of  devices  for  quick  adjustment 
and  in  respect  to  other  details.  Among 
the  improvements  which  soon  followed  was 
that  of  a  mica  diaphragm  in  place  of  the 
original  disk  of  metal,  this  having  been 
found  to  obviate  the  objectionable  metallic 
tone  of  the  sound  noticeable  in  the  original 
machine. 

Among  the  facts  or  results  which  the 
inventor  claims  to  be  realized  by  this  won- 
derful apparatus,  are — the  captivity  of  all 
manner  of  sound-waves  heretofore  designa- 
ted as  'fugitive,'  and  their  permanent  re- 
tention; their  reproduction  with  all  their 
original  characteristics  at  will,  without  the 
presence  or  consent  of  the  original  source, 
and  after  the  lapse  of  any  period  of  time  ; 
the  transmission  of  such  captive  sounds 
through  the  ordinary  channels  of  commer- 
cial intercourse  and  trade  in  material  form, 
for  purposes  of  communication  or  as  mer- 
chantable goods ;  the  indefinite  multiplica- 


tion and  preservation  of  such  sounds,  with- 
out regard  to  the  existence  or  non-existence 
of  the  original  source;  the  captivation  of 
sounds,  with  or  without  the  knowledge 
or  consent  of  the  source  of  their  origin. 
These  five  features  may  well  be  said  to 
constitute  a  mechanical  marvel  hitherto 
undreamed  of.  Indeed,  the  instrument 
was  in  no  sense  the  child  of  design  or 
even  forethought.  In  experimenting  with 
the  telephone,  Edison  happened  to  notice 
the  manner  in  which  the  disks  of  that  con- 
trivance vibrated  in  accordance  with  the 
breath  used  in  speaking.  Believing  these 
vibrations  could  be  recorded  so  as  to  be 
reproduced,  he  set  to  work  to  manufacture 
a  machine  for  the  purpose,  the  result  being 
the  phonograph, — an  apparatus  that  will 
faithfully  record  and  repeat  every  syllable 
uttered,  with  all  the  peculiarities  of  vocal- 
ization or  articulation,  that  will  sing, 
whistle,  sneeze,  cough,  sigh,  echo,  &c.,  &c. 
With  the  improvements  upon  the  Phono- 
graph already  in  progress, — among  which 
is  that  of  impelling  the  apparatus  by  clock- 
work or  machinery  suited  to  the  special 
purpose  to  which  it  is  to  be  put, — some  of 
the  expected  applications,  as  enumerated 
by  the  inventor,  are  those  of  letter-writing 
and  other  forms  of  dictation,  books,  educa- 
tion, public  or  private  readings,  music, 
family  record,  also  such  electrotype  ap- 
plications as  books,  musical  boxes,  toys, 
clocks,  advertising  and  signaling  appara- 
tus, speeches,  etc.  Of  the  first  of  these 
uses,  (and  which  may  be  said  to  illustrate 
representatively  the  ingenuity  involved  in 
the  adaptation  of  the  contrivance  to  other 
specialties),  the  general  principles  of  con- 
struction adopted  by  Mr.  Edison  consist  in 
having  a  flat  plate  or  disk,  with  spiral 
groove  on  the  face,  operated  by  clock-work 
underneath  the  plate,  the  grooves  being 
cut  very  closely  together  so  as  to  give  a 
great  total  length  to  each  surface — close 
calculation  showing  the  capacity  of  each 
sheet  of  foil  upon  which  the  record  is  had 
to  be  in  the  neighborhood  of  forty  thou- 
sand words.  Allowing  the  sheets  to  be 
ten  inches  square,  the  cost  would  be  so 
trifling  that  but  one  hundred  words  might 


MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE. 


687 


be  put  upon  a  single  sheet  economically, 
the  chief  point  to  be  effectuated  by  experi- 
ment in  this  case,  being,  of  course,  that 
each  sheet  have  as  great  capacity  as  possi- 
ble. This  form  of  Phonograph  for  com- 
munications Mr.  Edison  characterizes  as 
very  simple  in  practice.  Thus,  a  sheet  of 
tin-foil  is  placed  in  the  phonograph,  the 
clock-work  set  in  motion,  and  the  matter 
dictated  into  the  mouthpiece,  without  other 
effort  than  when  dictating  to  a  stenog- 
rapher. It  is  then  removed,  placed  in  a 
suitable  form  of  envelope,  and  sent  though 
the  ordinary  channels  to  the  correspondent 
for  whom  designed, — he,  placing  it  upon 
his  phonograph,  starts  his  clock-work  and 
listens  to  what  his  correspondent  has  to 
say ;  inasmuch,  then,  as  it  gives  the  tone 
of  voice  of  his  correspondent,  it  is  identi- 
fied, and,  as  it  may  be  filed  away  as  other 
letters,  and  at  any  subsequent  time  re- 
produced, it  is  a  perfect  record. 

A  kindred  instrument,  in  some  respects, 
with  the  preceding, — and  like  that  a  gen- 
uine marvel, — is  the  MICROPHONE,  or 
transmitter  of  sound,  by  the  use  of  which, 
a  mere  touch,  or  so  small  a  sound  as  the 
tick  of  a  watch,  for  instance,  may  be  heard 
at  the  distance  of  miles,  and  the  walking 
of  a  fly  resembles  the  tramp  of  an  elephant 
or  the  tread  of  a  horse  on  a  rough  road. 
The  telephone  brings  the  sound  from  a 
distance,  and  the  microphone  magnifies 
the  sound  when  it  is  thus  brought  near, — 
thus  rendering  the  latter  just  as  appli- 
cable to  the  sounds  transmitted  from  Lon- 
don or  Dublin  to  New  York,  if  transmis- 
sible so  far,  as  to  the  sounds  in  a  vibrating 
plate  which  is  within  a  few  inches  of  the 
listener's  ear.  The  invention  depends  on 
so  breaking,  by  the  interposition  of  char- 
coal permeated  by  fine  atoms  of  mercury, 
the  currents  transmitted  by  the  telephonic 
wire,  that  the  sound  is  vastly  increased  by 
the  interruption — just  as  heat  is  known  to 
be  vastly  increased  by  a  similar  interrup- 
tion of  a  current,  even  to  the  turning  of 
metallic  wire  to  a  red  or  white  heat.  Thus 
the  microphone  will  make  a  minute  sound 
audible,  whether  it  be  close  or  far  off. 

In  Edison's  pile  instrument,  a  piece  of 


cork  is  fastened  to  the  diaphragm,  and 
presses  upon  a  strip  of  platinum  which  is 
attached  to  a  plate  of  copper;  the  latter 
is  one  of  the  terminals  of  an  ordinary 
galvanic  pile.  The  other  terminal  plate 
presses  against  the  metallic  frame  of  the 
instrument.  When  the  pile  is  included  in 
a  closed  telephone  circuit,  it  furnishes  a 
continuous  current,  the  strength  of  this 
current  depending  upon  the  internal  re- 
sistance of  the  pile  and  its  polarization, 
and  these  are  varied  by  vibrating  the 
diaphragm ;  the  pile  is  composed  of  alter- 
nate plates  of  zinc  and  copper,  and  a  bibu- 
lous medium  between  the  pairs  of  plates. 

A  simple  form  of  microphone,  also,  is 
constructed  with  a  wooden  diaphragm  one- 
eighth  of  an  inch  thick  and  four  inches 
square,  this  being  glued  to  a  narrow  frame 
supported  by  suitable  legs.  Two  pieces 
of  battery  carbon  are  secured  by  means  of 
sealing  wax  to  the  diaphragm,  about  an 
inch  apart,  and  at  equal  distances  from  the 
centre.  They  are  both  inclined  downward 
at  an  angle  of  about  thirty  degrees.  One 
of  the  pieces  of  carbon  is  longer  than  the 
other,  and  has  in  its  under  surface  three 
conical  holes,  made  with  a  penknife  point, 
which  are  large  enough  to  receive  the 
upper  ends  of  the  graphite  pencils,  tne 
lower  ends  of  the  pencils  resting  in  slight 
cavities  in  the  lower  carbon ;  these  pencils 
are  simply  pencil  leads  sharpened  at  both 
ends  and  placed  loosely  between  the  car- 
bons,— they  are  also  inclined  at  different 
angles,  so  that  the  motion  of  the  diaphragm 
which  would  jar  one  of  them  would  simply 
move  the  others  so  as  to  transmit  the  sound 
properly. 

The  development  or  conception  of  the 
microphone  is  stated  to  have  been  as  for- 
tuitous as  the  discovery  of  the  phonograph. 
Thus,  in  the  Hughes  device,  the  Professor 
was  led  by  his  experiments  to  place  a  small 
electric  battery  in  circuit  with  the  tele- 
phone. He  was  surprised  to  find,  on  add- 
ing weights  to  a  fine  wire  through  which 
the  current  was  flowing,  that,  just  before 
the  breaking  strain  was  reached — just 
when  the  fibres  of  the  metal  were  torn 
asunder — a  peculiar  rushing  sound  was 


688 


MIRACLES  Otf  SCIENCE. 


observable  in  the  telephone.  He  then 
tried  whether  he  could  reproduce  this 
noise  by  loosely  binding  the  wires  again 
together,  and  he  found  that  by  this  means 
he  had  hit  upon  a  wonderfully  sensitive 
detector  of  sounds, — any  noise  near  the 
wires  being  immediately  taken  up  by  the 
telephone  with  startling  distinctness  The 
slightest  attachment  of  the  wires  procured 
the  same  results,  and  then  the  joined  wires 
were  modified  into  an  apparatus  which 
merely  consisted  of  three  nails,  two  being 
parallel  and  connected  with  the  battery 
wires,  and  the  third  resting  upon  them. 
Although  this  ridiculously  simple  arrange- 
ment was  capable  of  transmitting  all  kinds 
of  noises  to  a  distant  place,  the  sounds 
were  confused.  This  led  to  experiments 
with  different  conducting  substances,  the 
most  reliable  results,  however,  being  ob- 
tained from  the  various  forms  of  carbon. 
An  arrangement  was  then  devised  which 
not  only  proved  successful,  but  so  sensi- 
tive, in  fact,  as  to  be  almost  beyond  con- 
trol, namely,  a  tiny  pencil  of  fine  gas  coke 
dropped  into  indentations  in  two  blocks 
of  the  same  material.  This  compact  little 
instrument,  fastened  to  a  cigar  box,  it  was 
found  would  transmit  to  a  long  distance 


the  ticking  of  a  watch  placed  near  it, — 
the  gentle  touch  of  a  feather,  or  a  camel's 
hair  pencil,  reached  the  ear  as  the  rasping 
of  a  file,  while  the  scratch  of  a  quill  pen 
in  the  act  of  writing  was  augmented  to  a 
loud  noise.  But  better  than  this  form,  of 
course,  is  that  of  a  base  board  about  three 
inches  long,  having  screwed  upon  it  two 
little  angle  pieces  of  brass  plate,  and  a 
metallic  bar,  pivoted  on  to  these  brass 
supports,  with  a  piece  of  carbon  at  its 
end ;  this  carbon  block  rests  upon  two 
similar  pieces  kept  together  by  a  cloth 
hinge  placed  at  the  side,  and  the  lower 
block,  to  which  one  of  the  battery  wires  is 
attached,  is  fastened  to  the  board ;  the 
pressure  upon  these  carbon  surfaces  is 
controlled  by  a  delicate  spring  of  brass 
wire,  which  is  attached  to  a  screw  with  a 
milled  head.  By  turning  this  screw,  the 
pressure  is  nicely  adjusted,  from  the  very 
light  contact  required  for  delicate  sounds 
to  the  comparatively  heavy  pressure  wanted 
when  the  sounds  are  more  intense.  But, 
to  describe  this  marvelous  instrument  in 
the  various  forms  of  construction  already 
given  to  it  by  inventors  at  home  and 
abroad,  notwithstanding  its  recent  intro- 
duction, would  require  scores  of  pages. 


LXXXIII. 

vJENTEXNIAL  COMMEMORATION  OF  THE  BIRTH  OF  THIS 

REPUBLIC.— 1876. 


Year  of  Jubilee,  Festival,  and  Pageant,  throughout  the  Land. — Prosperity,  Power,  and  Renown  of  the 
Nation. — A  Union  of  Nearly  Forty  Great  Commonwealths  and  Forty  Million  People. — Anticipations 
of  the  Coming  Anniversary. — Legislation  by  Congress  for  its  Patriotic  Observance — A  Grand  Exposi- 
tion of  the  Century's  Growth  and  Progress,  the  Principal  Feature  Decided  Upon. — Vast  Work  of 
Preparation. — The  Whole  World  at  Peace,  and  All  Countries  and  Climes  in  Sympathy  with  the 
Republic  and  its  Auspicious  Era. — Ushering  in  the  Tear's  Ceremonials — Every  City,  Town,  and 
Village,  Covered  with  Gay  Streamers  and  Waving  Flags. — Pomp,  Parade,  and  Universal  Fraterniza- 
tion.— Wondrous  Microcosm  of  Civilization  Concentrated  at  Philadelphia. — The  Culminating  Art 
and  Skill  of  Sixty  Centuries  of  Human  Advancement,  and  the  Products  of  Every  Quarter  of  the 
Globe,  Displayed  in  their  Richest  Illustrations. — An  Unprecedented  Scene:  President  and  Emperor 
Receiving  the  Salutations  of  the  American  People. — Oratory,  Music,  Poetry,  Bells,  Illuminations, 
Cannon,  Regattas,  Banners,  Hallelujahs  and  Huzzas. — The  Beauty,  Utility,  and  Magnificence  of  the 
Orient  and  Occident,  in  Boundless  Combinations. — The  "  Glorious  Fourth,"  All  Over  the  Land. 
— Congratulatory  Letter  from  the  Emperor  of  Germany. 


"  The  completion  of  the  first  century  of  our  national  existence  should  be  commemorated  by  an  Exhibition  of  the  natural  resources  of  the 
country  and  their  development,  and  ot'its  progress  in  those  arts  which  beneSt  mankind." — PRESIDENT  GRANT'S  MESSAGE  TO  CONGRESS. 


hundred  years  after  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence  at  Phil 
adelphia,  which  great  event  gave 
birth  and  national  sovereignty  to 
a  new  Republic,  the  centennial 
commemoration  of  that  august  act 
filled  the  land  with  such  festival 
and  pageant  of  joy,  as  only  a  free 
people — prosperous,  powerful,  and 
renowned, — could  be  expected  to 
exhibit.  From  a  feeble  beginning, 
of  thirteen  weakly  colonies,  with 
a  scattered  population  of  three 
million  people,  struggling  with 
war  and  debt,  they  had  now  at- 
tained to  the  colossal  growth  of 
nearly  forty  great  commonwealths  and  forty  million  inhabitants,  and,  in  respect  to 
whatever  relates  to  man's  material  and  moral  advancement,  found  themselves  unexcelled 
by  any  empire  or  kingdom  on  the  face  of  the  wide  earth. 


:H    T11OMAS  JEFFERSOX  WROTE  THE   DECLARATION 
OF  INDEPEKDEXCE. 


690 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


Anticipation?  ot  the  coming  anniversary 
had  long  bee.i  prominent  in  the  minds  of 
the  people  and,  in  view  of  the  peculiarly 
national  character  of  the  event,  it  was  at 
an  early  stage  of  the  discussion  brought 
before  the  assembled  wisdom  of  the  repub- 
lic, in  the  halls  of  congress,  the  result  of 
which  was  the  adoption  of  the  idea  that 
liad  for  some  time  become  widely  popular, 
namely,  that  an  exhibition  of  American 
and  foreign  arts,  products,  and  manufac- 
tures be  held,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
government  of  the  United  States,  in  the 
city  of  Philadelphia,  in  the  year  1876. 
To  this  end,  the  centennial  commission 
was  appointed — two  commissioners  from 
each  state  and  territory,  nominated  by 
their  respective  governors,  and  approved 
by  the  president.  Under  this  organiza- 
tion, the  vast  work  of  preparation  com- 
menced, and,  on  the  fourth  of  July,  1873, 
the  ground  set  apart  for  the  purpose  was 
dedicated  with  appropriate  ceremonies. 
i.ne  result  of  the  succeeding  three  years 
of  labor  on  the  part  of  the  commission, 
showed  that  not  only  from  every  section  of 
our  own  land  did  the  choicest  contributions 
accumulate  in  every  department  of  art, 
science,  and  mechanism,  but  that  all  for- 
eign countries  also, — in  response  to  the 
invitation  extended  to  them  by  the  Amer- 
ican government, — were  in  sympathy  with 
the  Republic  and  its  auspicious  era;  so 
that,  at  the  time  designated  for  the  grand 
ushering  in  of  the  year's  ceremonials,  there 
was  presented  the  most  wondrous  micro- 
cosm of  civilization  ever  concentrated  in 
one  locality.  There  was,  in  fact,  the  cul- 
minating art  and  skill  of  sixty  centuries 
of  human  advancement,  and  the  products 
of  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  displayed  in 
their  richest  illustrations,  —  the  beauty, 
utility,  and  magnificence,  of  the  Orient 
and  Occident,  in  boundless  combinations. 

On  the  day  of  the  formal  inauguration 
of  the  exposition,  and  at  which  were  pres- 
ent hundreds  of  thousands  of  joyous  spec- 
tators; with  dignitaries  from  both  hemi- 
spheres, the  occasion  was  appropriately 
introduced  by  the  vast  orchestra  perform- 
ing the  national  airs  of  all  nations,  as  fol- 


lows :  The  "Washington  Mar^h ;  Argen- 
tine Republic,  Marche  de  la  Republica; 
Austria,  Gott  erhalte  Franz  den  Kaiser; 
Belgium,  La  Brabansonne ;  Brazil,  Hymno 
Brasileira  Nacional;  Denmark,  Volkslied 
— den  tappre  Landsoldat;  France,  La 
Marseillaise;  Germany,  Was  ist  des 
Deutschen  Vaterland;  Great  Britain,  God 
Save  the  Queen;  Italy,  Marcia  del  Re; 
Netherlands,  Wie  neerlandsch  bloed ;  Nor- 
way, National  Hymn;  Russia,  National 
Hymn  ;  Spain,  Riego's  Spanish  National 
Hymn  ;  Sweden,  "Volksongen — Bevare  Gud 
var  Kung;  Switzerland,  Heil  dir  Helve- 
tia; Turkey,  March;  Hail  Columbia. 

Following  this  musical  prelude,  the  bold 
chords  of  Wagner's  centennial  inauguration 
march  filled  the  air  with  floods  of  richest 
harmony ;  solemn  prayer  was  offered  by 
Bishop  Simpson  ;  and  then  a  superb  chorus 
of  nearly  a  thousand  voices,  accompanied 
by  orchestra  and  organ,  sang  Whittier's 
centennial  hymn,  set  to  music  by  John  K. 
Payne.  Formal  presentation  being  now 
made  of  the  building  to  the  United  States 
Centennial  Commission  by  the  president 
of  the  board  of  finance  to  General  Hawley, 
president  of  the  centennial  commission,  a 
cantata  was  sung  with  fine  effect,  the 
words  by  Lanier,  of  Georgia,  and  the 
music  by  Buck,  after  which  the  ceremo- 
nial presentation  of  the  Exhibition  to  the 
President  of  the  United  States  was  made 
by  General  Hawley,  in  an  eloquent  address, 
to  which  General  Grant  responded  in  a 
eulogistic  speech  of  acceptance,  reviewing 
the  progress  of  the  century,  bidding  the 
whole  world  welcome,  and  declaring  the 
exhibition  open.  On  this  announcement, 
the  orchestra,  chorus  and  great  organ  burst 
forth  into  triumphal  strains  of  the  '  Halle- 
lujah,' from  the  "Messiah,"  acclamations 
and  huzzas  rent  the  air ;  and  the  unprec- 
edented spectacle  was  witnessed,  of  an 
American  President  and  a  crowned  Empe- 
ror— the  emperor  of  Brazil  being  present, 
and  at  President  Grant's  side, — receiving 
the  enthusiastic  salutations  of  the  Ameri- 
can people. 

The  ca.e  of  Dom  Pedro,  it  may  be  here 
remarked,  furnishes  the  only  instance  in 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


69  J 


692 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


the  history  of  our  century,  of  a  reigning 
crowned  head  visiting  the  United  States, 
with  the  exception  of  Kalakaua,  king  of 
the  Sandwich  Islands,  whose  tour  occur- 
red in  1874-5. 

And  here  may  be  cited  one  of  the  most 
notable  scenes  which  transpired  on  this 
wonderful  occasion,  namely,  the  starting 
of  the  stupendous  engine  constructed  by 
Mr.  Corliss,  which  was  to  move  the  four- 
teen acres  of  machinery,  comprising  some 
eight  thousand  different  machines,  in  the 
building  devoted  to  that  specialty.  This 
starting  operation  was  performed  jointly 
by  President  Grant  and  Emperor  Dom 
Pedro  II.,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Cor- 
liss. These  two  great  personages  took  the 


THE  CORLISS  ENGINE. 


positions  assigned  them  by  Mr.  Corliss, 
who  explained  by  a  motion  of  the  hands 
»nd  a  word  or  two,  as  to  how  the  engines 
were  to  be  started  by  the  single  turning 
of  a  slender  steel  arm,  like  the  brake  of  a 
street  railway  car, — this  action  opening 
the  throttle  valve,  and  then  the  vast  but 
quiet  building  would  be  instantly  alive 
with  all  the  functions  of  every  kind  of  a 
factory  in  full  practice.  The  time  had 
arrived  for  the  movement,  and  a  most 
imposing  array  of  eminent  officials  sur- 
rounded the  president  and  emperor. 
"Now,  Mr.  President,"  said  Mr.  Corliss. 
"Well,"  said  the  president,  quietly,  "how 


shall  I  do  it  ?  "  The  answer  was,  "  Turn 
that  little  crank  around  six  times."  Pres- 
ident Grant  made  a  motion  with  his  fin- 
gers, inquiringly,  "This  way?"  "Yes." 
In  another  half  minute,  the  screw  was 
turned  by  the  president,  the  colossal  ma- 
chine above  him  began  to  move,  the  miles 
of  shafting  along  the  building  began  to 
revolve,  innumerable  steel  and  iron  organ- 
isms were  set  going,  and  a  visitor  who 
retraced  his  steps  could  examine  the  proc- 
esses of  half  the  important  manufactures  on 
the  globe.  At  the  wave  of  Mr.  Corliss's 
hand,  the  emperor  gave  a  sharp  turn  of 
his  wrist  and  started  his  engine  a  moment 
in  advance  of  the  president;  but  the  re- 
sponse of  the  machinery  at  the  single 
touch  of  these  two  men — countless  wheels 
turning,  bands  beginning  their  rounds, 
cogs  fitting  into  their  places,  pistons  driv- 
ing backward  and  forward  and  up  and 
down,  performing  their  infinitely  varied 
functions — was  so  almost  simultaneous, 
that  few  suspected  that  the  Brazilian 
monarch  had  outstripped  his  host.  This 
engine  weighs  eight  hundred  tons;  will 
drive  eight  miles  of  shafting;  has  a  fly- 
wheel thirty  feet  in  diameter  and  weigh- 
ing seventy  tons;  is  of  fourteen  hundred 
horse-power,  with  a  capacity  of  being 
forced  to  twenty-five  hundred ;  has  two 
walking-beams,  weighing  twenty-two  tons 
each ;  two  forty-inch  cylinders,  a  ten-feet 
stroke,  a  crank-shaft  nineteen  inches  in 
diameter  and  twelve  feet  in  length ;  con- 
necting rods  twenty-four  feet  in  length, 
and  piston  rods  six  and  one-fourth  inches 
in  diameter ;  height  from  the  floor  to  the 
top  of  the  walking-beams,  thirty-nine  feet. 
It  was  in  vastness,  power,  and  ingenuity, 
the  mechanical  marvel  of  the  exhibition. 

The  plan  of  construction  for  the  accom- 
modation of  the  several  grand  features  of 
the  exposition,  comprised  five  main  build- 
ings conveniently  located  at  different 
points  on  the  five  hundred  acres  devoted 
to  centennial  purposes,  being  about  one- 
sixth  of  the  area  of  Fairmount  Park,  on 
the  Schuylkill  river,  than  which  no  more 
delightful  locality  could  have  been  selected. 
These  structures  consisted,  respectively,  of 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


393 


the  main  building,  having  an  area  of  about 
twenty-one  ami  a-half  acres;  that  for  ma- 
chinery, fourteen  acres;  for  agriculture,  ten 
acres;  for  horticulture,  one  and  a-half; 
for  art,  one  and  a-half.  In  addition  to 
these,  the  number  of  special  structures, 
including  the  memorial  hall,  and  those 
erected  by  the  United  States  government, 
by  foreign  nations,  by  the  different  States, 
by  the  women,  etc.,  etc.,  was  among  the 
hundreds.  Many  of  these  were  of  great 
cost  and  striking  architectural  beauty, 
and,  with  statues,  fountains,  flower  plots, 
and  other  decorative  objects  innumerable, 
produced  a  scene  of  surpassing  attraction. 

The  variety  of  special  celebrative  events, 
in  combination  with  the  wondrous  display 
of  every  marvel  and  masterpiece  gathered 
from  art  and  nature  in  the  four  continents, 
attending  this  centennial  commemoration, 
may  be  judged  of  by  the  following  pro- 
gramme: Harvesting  display;  trials  of 
steam  plows  and  tillage  implements;  ex- 
hibition of  horses  and  mules, — of  horned 
cattle, — of  sheep,  swine,  goats,  and  dogs, 
— of  poultry;  national  gathering  of  the 
Order  of  Good  Templars ;  international 
regatta;  yacht  regatta;  gathering  of  the 
Sons  of  Temperance ;  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic ;  Knights  Templars ;  wo- 
men's temperance  union ;  Am.  musical  as- 
sociation ;  international  series  of  cricket 
matches;  congress  of  authors  in  Inde- 
pendence Hall ;  parade  of  Roman  Catholic 
societies  and  dedication  of  their  magnifi- 
cent fountain;  parade  of  military  organ- 
izations ;  parade  of  the  Knights  of  Pyth- 
ias; international  rowing  regatta;  inter- 
national rifle  matches  ;  international  med- 
ical congress  ;  parade  of  the  Odd  Fellows  ; 
reunions  of  the  army  of  the  Potomac, 
Cumberland,  and  James  ;  etc.,  etc. 

Memorial  Hall,  or  the  art  gallery,  a 
most  beautiful  structure,  was  erected  at 
the  expense  of  the  state  of  Pennsylvania 
and  the  city  of  Philadelphia,  as  a  perma- 
nent commemoration  of  the  centennial. 
In  its  construction,  nothing  but  granite, 
brick,  glass  and  iron,  were  used.  Its  su- 
perb hall,  pavilions,  galleries  and  arcades, 
are  surmounted  with  a  dome  of  crystal 


and  iron,  terminating  in  a  colossal  bell, 
and,  at  the  apex,  Columbia  rises,  with 
protecting  hands.  Within  these  walls, 
the  treasures  of  painting  and  sculpture 
displayed  were  almost  beyond  enumera- 
tion— certainly  beyond  description. 

The  colossal  proportions  of  the  main 
building  struck  every  visitor's  wondering 
attention, — relieved,  however,  by  its  ex- 
quisitely artistic  form  and  endless  expanse 
of  complementary  colors, — and,  within,  a 
universe  of  the  wonderful  and  beautiful, 
such  as  the  eye  of  man  never  before  be- 
held nor  his  hand  created.  The  position 
of  the  nations  in  this  vast  structure  was 
an  interesting  matter  to  determine,  being 
finally  decided  as  follows :  Within  the 
line  of  railing  extending  across  the  en- 
trance, to  the  north  of  the  nave,  the  pavil- 
ions of  Italy ;  passing  east,  the  arrange- 
ment comprised  Norway,  then  Sweden, 
with  the  English  colonies  as  a  neighbor ; 
Canada  adjoined,  and  then  the  mother 
country,  Great  Britain,  occupying  a  large 
space  down  to  the  transept ;  beyond  En- 
gland was  France,  and  the  next  in  line, 
still  on  the  north  of  the  nave,  Switzerland ; 
near  the  eastern  end,  and  covering  as  much, 
room  as  France,  Switzerland,  Belgium, 
Brazil,  the  Netherlands,  and  Mexico  com- 
bined, the  United  States  exhibited  her 
wonderful  progress,  in  innumerable  illus- 
trations ;  opposite  to  Great  Britain,  ap- 
peared the  German  Empire,  alongside 
Austria,  and  Hungary  in  the  rear;  ap- 
proaching still  towards  the  west,  but  on 
the  south  side  of  the  nave,  came  Russia 
and  Spain,  arid,  along  the  nave,  followed 
Egypt,  Turkey,  Denmark,  and  Sweden, 
while  in  the  rear  of  these  were  Tunis, 
Portugal,  and  the  Sandwich  Islands ;  in 
the  front  rank  was  Japan,  facing  Norway 
and  Sweden,  and  next  to  the  latter,  and 
back  of  her,  was  China ;  Chili  had  a  place 
near  the  entrance  from  the  west,  and,  near 
by,  was  the  Argentine  Republic.  These 
were  the  locations  of  the  principal  nation- 
alities. 

Handsome,  and  grand  in  its  amplitude, 
and  tasty  in  its  harmonies  of  form  and 
color,  the  machinery  building  fairly  be- 


694 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


696 


wildered  both  the  eye  and  mind  of  the 
observer,  by  its  ever-varying  contents, 
while  the  prevalent  somberness  of  its  acres 
of  iron  and  steel  construction  was  pleas- 
antly relieved  by  the  cheerful  coloring. 
Horticultural  hall  seemed  like  some  fairy 
palace,  with  its  light  and  airy  design,  and 
delicate  ornamentation,  the  grand  conserv- 
atory alone  constituting  a  world  of  beauty 


tures ;  was  built  almost  entirely  of  wood 
and  glass,  and  the  color  a  delicate  whitish 
tint  throughout, — no  effort,  however,  be- 
ing made  in  the  way  of  ornamentation, 
but  simply  to  have  a  structure  suitable  for 
the  purpose  and  in  keeping  with  the  char- 
acter of  the  exhibits.  The  woman's  build- 
ing, or  pavilion,  devoted  entirely  to  the 
results  of  woman's  skill,  was  an  attractive 


INDEPENDENCE   HALL,  JDLY  4,  1876. 


to  all  lovers  of  nature ;  in  the  flower  beds 
surrounding  this  structure,  more  than 
thirty  thousand  hyacinth  and  tulip  bulbs 
were  planted,  to  display,  with  thousands 
of  other  beautiful  plants,  their  full  bloom 
on  the  opening  or  inauguration  day.  Ag- 
ricultural hall  was  entirely  different  in 
appearance  from  any  of  the  other  struo 


structure,  covering  some  thirty  thousand 
square  feet,  and  filled  with  the  dulce  et 
utile  from  all  lands.  The  government 
building,  of  substantial  and  elegant  de- 
sign, contained  a  revelation  of  wonders 
connected  with  the  army  and  navy,  the 
department  of  agriculture,  the  post-office, 
patent  office,  signal  service,  ordnance  bu- 


0!MJ 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMufiATION. 


reau,  light-house  ooard,  and  all  the  subor- 
dinate ilupartineuts  and  bureaus  in  any 
way  connected  with  the  government. 

in  making  reference  to  special  objects 
of  interest,  brief  mention  is  due  in  the 
case  of  a  magnificent  piece  of  silver  bul- 
lion, in  one  mass,  valued  at  a  prodigious 
sum,  and  showing,  in  a  conspicuous  man- 
ner, the  metallic  riches  yet  to  be  unearthed 
in  the  remote  West. 

The  Smithsonian  Institution  showed 
every  kind  of  American  bird  in  an  im- 
mense group  by  itself,  also  every  kind  of 
fish,  mollusk,  reptile  and  quadruped. 

Queen  Victoria's  personal  contributions 
comprised  a  number  of  etchings  by  her 
own  hand,  also  table  napkins  spun  by  her- 
self, and  drawings  and  embroideries  from 
her  princess  daughters. 

The  Pennsylvania  Bible  Society  circu- 
lated the  scriptures  in  the  language  of 
every  nationality  represented  on  the 
grounds,  a  pure  white  flag  floating  from 
the  top  of  its  pavilion,  bearing  the  words 
of  Jer.  xxii,  29 :  "0  Earth,  Earth,  Earth, 
hear  the  word  of  the  Lord  !" 

Among  the  evidences  of  Connecticut's 
skill  was  the  huge  centennial  time-piece, 
— a  clock  weighing  six  tons  and  having 
eleven  hundred  pieces,  with  wheels  four 
feet  in  diameter. 

A  collection  of  models,  sent  by  Massa- 
chusetts, of  the  various  marine  craft  which 
hare  been  employed  in  her  waters,  since 
the  first  settlement  of  Plymouth  colony 
— some  fifty  or  sixty,  most  elaborately 
executed,  and  all  perfect  in  type — from 
the  Indian  birch  canoes  and  first  fishing 
boats  used  on  the  coast,  up  to  the  most 
improved  modern  iron-clad,  attracted  much 
notice.  From  the  Pennsylvania  coal  mines 
came  two  blocks  of  coal,  weighing,  respec- 
tively, about  two  and  one-fourth  and  five 
tons ;  and,  from  her  steel  works,  a  solid 
ingot  of  steel  weighing  25,000  pounds,  also 
a  perfect  steel  rail,  rolled,  120  feet  long, 
and  weighing  62  pounds  per  yard. 

In  the  navy  department,  the  govern- 
ment exhibited  curious  specimens  of  shot 
iiii:l  shells,  small  arms  of  all  kinds,  ships' 
guns  and  howitzers,  Gatling  guns,  and 


othor  terrible  instruments  of  warfare; 
marine  engines  and  boilers,  showing  the 
improvement  made  in  marine  engineering; 
immense  cables,  with  mammoth  iron  links; 
likewise,  beautifully  finished  models  of 
every  class  of  ship  on  the  naval  list,  in- 
cluding lines  of  the  famous  craft  on  which 
Lawrence,  Decatur,  and  McDonough 
fought  and  conquered,  and  the  original 
appearance  of  "  Old  Ironsides  "  was  finely 
reproduced.  The  patent  office  poured 
forth  its  treasures  and  curiosities  —  de- 
vices that  have  revolutionized  labor  the 
world  over.  More  than  one  case  was  filled 
with  relics  of  the  great  Washington — the 
clothes  worn  by  him  on  memorable  occa- 
sions, his  swords,  camp  furniture,  tents, 
etc.  A  complete  set  of  maps  showed  the 
different  areas  of  the  United  States  where 
farm  improvements  have  been  made,  where 
woods  are  most  abundant,  —  every  tree, 
shrub,  flower,  root,  cereal  and  fiber,  in 
their  respective  sections, — the  fungi  that 
destroy  the  different  plants, — and  so  on. 

Louisiana's  products  included  a  tree 
loaded  with  the  somber,  hanging  moss, 
that  renders  some  of  her  landscapes  so 
gloomy,  but  which  is  now  being  used  as  a 
substitute  for  hair  in  mattresses  and  up- 
holstery. California  sent  gold  quartz  of 
surpassing  richness,  and  wonderful  grain 
and  cacti  as  well.  Of  the  Indian  races, 
the  leading  features  were  aptly  epitom- 
ized, and  their  habitations,  manners,  and 
customs,  represented  by  delegations  from 
different  tribes.  Of  universal  interest,  of 
course,  was  the  original  draft  of  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence — to  be  looked  at, 
not  touched.  Whitefield's  portable  pulpit, 
which  he  usually  took  with  him,  and  from 
which,  he  once  said,  the  gospel  had  been 
preached  to  more  than  ten  millions  of  peo- 
ple, was  another  interesting  relic ;  also, 
General  Stark's  spurs,  John  Alden's  desk, 
Governor  Endicott's  folding-chair,  the  sil- 
ver pitcher  used  by  Lafayette  in  Boston, 
etc. 

The  inventions  and  handiwork  of  boys 
included,  among  other  things,  a  heavy  ten- 
wheel  draft  locomotive,  cylinder  eighteen 
by  twenty-two  inches,  and  all  of  consum- 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


097 


mate  finish.  The  kindergarten  plan  of 
teaching  was  most  fully  illustrated  in  all 
its  appliances  and  methods. 

Massachusetts  sent,  among  its  rich  and 
varied  contributions,  an  organ  of  gigantic 
proportions,  having  fifty-nine  stops  and 
four  banks  of  keys,  its.  longest  pipe  being 
thirty-two  feet  and  the  shortest  less  than 
one  inch  ;  also,  industrial  designs,  of  strik- 
ing character,  from  the  Massachusetts  in- 
stitute of  technology.  Noticeable  as  a 
most  sumptuous  article  of  taste,  was  a 
hundred  thousaud  dollar  necklace  from 


pie  on  the  globe, — with  her  thousands  of 
specimens  of  corn,  cotton,  sugar,  her  woods, 
fruits,  honey,  perfumery,  scimetars  ;  Aus- 
tralia, her  mineral  and  agricultural  prod- 
ucts, tin,  iron,  wool,  wood;  Canada,  her 
row-boats,  furs,  iron-work ;  Scotland,  her 
cut  stones  aud  precious  gems,  in  every 
form  of  exquisite  jewelry;  Switzerland, 
her  watches  of  world-famed  beauty  ;  Nor- 
way, and  Sweden,  their  glass-work,  wood 
carvings,  porcelains,  irons  and  steels  ;  Hol- 
land, her  magnificent  models  of  sea-coast 
works,  bridges,  dams,  aqueducts;  Belgium, 


•Jl.-ICX   SQUAF.E.  KEW  YORK,  JULY  4,  1876. 


New  York  city,  also  the  Bryant  vase  ; 
and,  from  Providence,  the  '  century  vase,' 
of  solid  silver,  being  five  feet  four  inches 
in  length  and  four  feet  two  inches  high, 
and  weighing  two  thousand  ounces.  Each 
State  and  section,  in  a  word,  presented  its 
special  exhibits,  in  superbest  examples  and 
endless  profusion,  tiring  the  eye  and  baf- 
fling description. 

Glancing  a  moment  at  the  countless 
riches  in  every  department  of  nature,  art, 
and  mechanism,  which  flowed  from  foreign 
nations  of  every  zone,  mention  may  first 
be  made  of  Egypt — the  most  ancient  peo- 


her  curiously  carved  balustrades,  cornice 
ornaments,  statues  ;  China,  her  jars,  vases, 
and  other  specimens  of  ceramic  art ;  Japan, 
her  multitudinous  porcelains  and  bronzes; 
Cuba,  her  palms,  agaves,  cact,  and  other 
tropical  plants ;  Italy,  her  fine  art  contri- 
butions, including  rare  aud  priceless  gems 
from  the  Vatican,  sent  by  Pius  IX. ; 
France,  with  its  selectest  elaborations  in 
almost  every  department  of  knowledge 
and  handicraft,  not  least  among  which 
being  its  Gobelin  tapestries  and  Sevres 
fabrics;  Great  Britain,  her  infinitude  of 
Vv'oolen,  cotton  and  silk  goods,  carpetings, 


698 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


hardware,  and  paintings  from  illustrious 
artists ; — and  so  followed  on,  in  magnifi- 
cent array,  Austria,  Germany,  Russia, 
Spain,  Portugal,  Denmark,  Turkey,  Brazil, 
and  others  of  the  great  family  of  nations, 
with  the  choicest  products  of  their  mines 
and  looms,  foundries  and  workshops,  lapi- 
daries and  ateliers. 

But  why  commence,  even,  the  impossi- 
ble task  of  describing  fifty  teeming  acres 
of  templed  wonders  from  every  clime — 
the  marvels  and  masterpieces  of  nature, 
science,  and  art,  in  bewildering  variety 
and  richness.  No  traversing,  in  fact,  at 
all  equal  to  the  occasion,  can  here  be  es- 
sayed. It  will  require,  indeed,  all  the 
copious  volumes  intended  to  be  issued 
under  official  auspices,  adequately  to  elab- 
orate and  portray  the  genius  and  results 
presented  in  a  display  so  unexampled  in 
the  history  of  man. 

Nor  would  it  be  scarcely  less  impos- 
sible, in  the  scope  of  a  single  chapter,  to 
sufficiently  characterize  the  enthusiasm, 
•wide-spread  as  the  continent,  which  usher- 
ed in  and  prolonged  the  observance  of  the 
Anniversary  Day  in  especial,  —  JULY 
FOURTH, — which  numbered  the  first  hun- 
dred years  of  the  greatest  republic  upon 
which  the  sun  ever  shone.  To  say  that 
the  festal  ingenuity  of  nearly  forty  great 
States  and  forty  millions  of  people,  with 
their  tens  of  thousands  of  cities,  towns, 
and  villages,  fairly  spent  itself,  in  efforts 
to  suitably  commemorate  the  Wonderful 
Annivetsary,  is  only  faintly  expressing  the 
fact.  It  was  a  festival  of  oratory,  music, 
poetry,  parade,  bells,  illuminations,  regat- 
tas, cannon,  banners,  hallelujahs  and  huz- 
zas. 

At  Philadelphia,  the  central  point  of 
historic  interest  and  centennial  ovation, 
the  resources  of  a  whole  nation's  pomp 
and  glory  seemed  drawn  upon,  on  a  scale 
eclipsing,  in  extent  and  variety,  any  cele- 
brative  occasion  in  the  annals  of  the  re- 
public. Congress,  sitting  in  its  halls  in 
the  capitol  at  Washington,  had  a  few  days 
previously  passed  a  resolution  of  adjourn- 
ment to  meet,  on  this  wonderful  day,  in 
Independence  Hall,  where,  one  hundred 


years  before,  occurred  the  birth  of  the 
nation,  and  where,  subsequently,  was 
framed  that  immortal  instrument  which 
gave  to  the  republic  a  constitutional  gov- 
ernment, the  wisest  and  most  admirable 
ever  conceived  by  uninspired  men. 

That  the  celebration  in  this  city  was, 
in  every  respect  worthy  of  an  occasion  so 
august  and  of  a  spot  so  historically  sacred 
and  national,  was  universally  admitted. 
A  parade  of  troops,  societies  and  officials 
took  place  in  the  morning,  ending  at  In- 
dependence Hall.  The  Centennial  legion 
of  troops  from  North  and  South  was 
commanded  by  General  Heath,  formerly 
of  the  confederate  army,  and  the  proces- 
sion in  various  other  ways  reflected  the 
strength  of  the  renewed  feeling  of  national 
unity  and  fraternity.  In  Independence 
Square,  the  vice-president  of  the  United 
States,  Hon.  Thomas  W.  Ferry,  presided ; 
prayer  was  offered  by  Bishop  Stevens; 
Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes's  'Welcome  to  the 
Nations'  was  sung;  Bayard  Taylor  read 
his  national  ode;  Hon.  William  M.  Ev- 
arts  pronounced  the  oration ;  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence  was  read  by  Richard 
Henry  Lee  of  Virginia,  from  the  original 
document,  which  President  Grant  had  in- 
trusted for  the  purpose  to  the  mayor  of 
Philadelphia.  The  faded  and  crumbled 
manuscript,  held  together  by  a  simple 
frame,  was  then  shown  to  the  assembled 
multitude  facing  the  platform,  cheer  fol- 
lowing cheer,  at  this  rare  spectacle. 
There  was  also  sung  the  "Greeting  from 
Brazil,"  a  hymn  composed  for  the  occasion 
by  A.  Carlos  Gomez,  of  Brazil,  by  the 
request  of  the  Emperor,  Dom  Pedro. 
After  the  ode,  the  orchestra  performed  a 
grand  triumphal  march,  with  chorus,  "  Our 
National  Banner,"  the  words  being  by 
Dexter  Smith,  of  Massachusetts,  and  the 
music  by  Sir  Julius  Benedict,  of  England. 
On  the  orator  retiring  from  the  speaker's 
stand,  the  Hallelujah  chorus  from  the 
"Messiah"  was  sung,  and  then  the  whole 
of  the  vast  throng  united  in  singing  the 
Old  Hundredth  Psalm.  The  magnificent 
spectacle  presented  by  the  procession  was, 
however,  the  scene  witnessed  and  enjoyed 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


69» 


roo 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


with  most  general  interest  and  admiration. 
It  was  miles  iu  length,  and  in  its  ranks 
every  one  of  the  thirteen  original  States 
had  a  picked  corps,  and  it  was  very  evi- 
dent, from  the  hearty  manner  in  which 
General  Heath, — in  the  absence  of  Gen- 
eral Burnside, — formerly  commanders,  re- 
spectively, on  the  field  of  battle,  of  '  the 
boys  in  blue'  and  ''the  boys  in  gray,'  but 
now  knowing  but  one  color  and  one  flag — 
was  received,  that  the  fraternization  of 
the  North  and  the  South  was  genuine  and 
complete,  on  this  great  natal  anniversary. 
The  procession  was  under  the  lead  of 
General  and  Governor  Hartranft,  and  the 
splendid  pageant  was  reviewed  by  General 
Sherman,  Lieutenant- General  Sheridan, 
and  General  Hooker,  in  whose  company, 
on  the  guests'  platform,  were  to  be  seen 
hundreds  of  official  dignitaries,  of  civil  and 
military  fame. 

In  Boston,  as  the  representative  metrop- 
olis of  New  England,  and  as  the  spot 
where,  almost  above  all  others,  our  nation's 
liberties  had  their  origin  and  chief  support, 
the  preparations  for  the  anniversary  had 
been  ma'le  on  a  splendid  scale,  and  these 
were  carried  out  with  perfect  success  to 
the  end,  witnessed  and  enjoyed  by  the 
patriotic  multitudes  who  thronged  the 
beautifully  decorated  city  from  the  earli- 
est hour.  There  were  parades,  concerts, 
regattas,  balloon  ascensions,  fire-works, 
and  commemorative  services  at  the  great 
Music  Hall,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
municipal  government,  the  orator  being 
the  Hon.  Robert  C.  Winthrop,  a  direct 
descendant  of  Governor  Winthrop,  of  co- 
lonial times,  and  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence being  read  by  Mr.  Brooks  Ad- 
ams, a  great-grandson  of  John  Adams,  the 
revolutionary  patriot  and  leader.  On  the 
orator's  platform  was  an  article  of  extraor- 
dinary interest  to  the  thousands  of  eyes 
that  were  intently  concentrated  upon  it, 
when,  as  Mr.  Winthrop,  in  the  early  part 
of  his  oration,  said :  "  And  here,  by  the 
favor  of  a  highly  valued  friend  and  fellow- 
citizen,  to  whom  it  was  given  by  Jefferson 
himself  a  few  months  only  before  his  death, 
I  am  privileged  to  hold  in  my  hands,  aud 


to  lift  up  to  the  eager  gaze  of  you  all,  a 
most  compact  and  convenient  little  ma- 
hogany case,  which  bears  this  autograph 
inscription  on  its  face,  dated  Monticello, 
November  18,  1825,— 

'  Thomas  Jefferson  gives  this  writing 
desk  to  Joseph  Coolidge,  Jr.,  as  a  memo- 
rial of  his  affection.  It  was  made  from  a 
drawing  of  his  own,  by  Ben  Randall,  cab- 
inet-maker of  Philadelphia,  with  whom  he 
first  lodged  on  his  arrival  in  that  city  in 
May,  1776,  and  is  the  identical  one  on 
which  he  wrote  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. Politics,  as  well  as  Religion, 
has  its  superstitions.  These,  gaining 
strength  with  time,  may,  one  day,  give 
imaginary  value!  to  this  relic,  for  its  asso- 
ciation with  the  birth  of  the  Great  Charter 
of  our  Independence.' 

Superstitions!  Imaginary  value!  Not 
for  an  instant  (continued  Mr.  Winthrop,) 
can  we  admit  such  ideas.  The  modesty  of 
the  writer  has  betrayed  even  the  masterly 
pen.  There  is  no  imaginary  value  to  this 
relic,  and  no  superstition  is  required  to 
render  it  as  precious  and  priceless  a  piece 
of  wood  as  the  secular  cabinets  of  the 
world  have  ever  possessed,  or  ever  claimed 
to  possess.  No  cabinet-maker  on  earth 
will  have  a  more  enduring  name  than  thia 
inscription  has  secured  to  '  Ben  Randall  of 
Philadelphia '  No  pen  will  have  a  wider 
or  more  lasting  fame  than  his  who  wrote 
the  inscription."  The  applause  elicited 
by  these  remarks  showed  that  the  hearts 
of  the  great  audience  were  still  filled  with 
the  spirit  of  the  fathers  and  founders  of 
the  republic,  and  that  patriotic  reverence 
for  their  names  and  deeds  had  suffered  no 
decay. 

Conspicuously  attractive,  during  the 
whole  day,  to  the  enthusiastic  throngs, 
were  the  venerable  buildings,  still  remain- 
ing, so  memorably  associated  with  the  part 
taken  by  Boston  during  the  revolutionary 
struggle.  In  the  center  of  the  portico  at 
the  east  end  of  the  Old  State  House, 
appeared  prominently  a  fine  copy  of  Paul 
Revere's  painting  of  the  King-Street  Mas- 
sacre, eighteen  by  ten  feet,  showing  on 
one  side  the  British  soldiers  firing  upon 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


701 


the  population,  several  of  whom  lie  on  the 
ground,  weltering  in  their  blood.  Over 
the  picture  was  a  banner  inscribed  with 
the  words,  "  Massacre  of  the  People  by 
the  British  Troops,"  and,  on  a  wreath 
above,  the  date — 1776.  On  each  side  of 
the  painting  stood  figures  of  the  Goddess 
of  Liberty  holding  the  American  flag  in 


ENTRANCE  OF  THE  SEW  YORK   SEVENTH  REGIMENT. 

one  hand  and  an  olive  branch  in  the  other. 
On  each  end  of  the  portico  were  placed 
faces  and  flags  of  different  nations,  while 
above  all,  on  the  coping  of  a  window,  was 
perched  an  eagle,  holding  in  its  beak  fes- 
toons of  the  red,  white  and  blue.  Faneuil 
Hall,  the  Old  Cradle  of  Liberty,  was 
another  of  these  patriotic  shrines.  On  its 
western  end  was  placed  a  medallion,  ten 
feet  in  diameter,  in  the  center  of  which 


was  a  portrait  of  Lafayette,  surrounded  by 
the  following  sentiment,  which  was  offered 
by  the  illustrious  Frenchman  at  a  banquet 
given  to  him  by  the  authorities,  in  Au- 
gust, 1824,  viz.  :  'The  city  of  Boston — 
the  Cradle  of  Liberty  ;  may  Faneuil  Hall 
ever  stand  a  monument  to  teach  the 
world  that  resistance  to  oppression  is  a 
duty,  and  will,  under  true  republican 
institutions,  become  a  blessing.'  The 
medallion  was  encompassed  by  a  glory 
of  French  and  American  flags,  and  above 
stood  the  Goddess  of  Liberty  holding  fes- 
toons of  bunting.  Christ  Church,  King's 
Chapel,  and  especially  the  Old  South 
Church — within  the  walls  of  which  last 
named  building,  Warren,  and  Adams,  and 
Otis,  and  the  sons  of  liberty,  gathered 
and  spoke — were  likewise  places  of  most 
attractive  interest.  Local  celebrations 
were  held,  also,  in  the  various  capitals  of 
the  States,  as  well  as  in  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  other  cities,  towns  and  vill- 
ages, calling  forth  every  manner  and  mode 
of  joyous  festivity,  on  the  part  of  old  and 
young ;  and  statesmen,  judges,  generals, 
the  "  honorable  of  the  land,"  furnished 
abundant  oratory,  and  a  vast  amount  of 
local  history  of  permanent  value.  The 
honor  of  firing  the  first  centennial  salute 
in  the  United  States — that  at  the  first 
instant  of  day-break — is  claimed,  in  point 
of  locality  and  time,  for  Eastport,  Me. 

In  New  York,  as  in  Philadelphia,  the 
jubilistic  demonstrations  commenced  on  a 
truly  metropolitan  scale,  on  the  evening 
of  the  third.  Indeed,  the  most  vivid  de- 
scription would  convey  only  a  faint  idea  of 
the  picturesque  and  imposing  appearance 
presented  in  the  principal  squares  and 
avenues,  from  nine  o'clock  until  far  into 
the  night.  In  Union  Square,  the  whole 
scene  was  one  of  unparalleled  beauty  and 
grandeur,  and  nothing  could  be  more 
impressive  than  when  the  advanced  guard 
of  the  monster  procession  marched  into 
the  square  by  way  of  the  plaza.  It  was 
almost  an  hour  after  the  start  of  the  pro- 
cession before  the  head  entered  the  grounds 
and  took  position.  The  members  of  the 
Sangerfer  Bund  were  in  full  force  of  about 


1 02 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


one  thousand,  on  the  platform,  while  the 
many  bands  that  took  part  in  the  pro- 
cession assembled  between  the  grand  stand 
and  the  singers'  stand.  As  soon  as  the 
immense  concourse  of  people  became  set- 
tled, the  singing  societies  performed,  with 
grand  effect,  Various  martial  and  patriotic 
airs.  Here,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  city, 
the  display  of  fire-works  was  magnificent; 
in  fact,  the  lower  portion  of  the  city  was, 
in  this  respect,  a  scene  of  bewildering . 
splendor,  Broadway  being,  as  it  were,  a 
sea  of  fire  from  Dey  street  to  Union  square 
plaza.  An  electric  apparatus  at  one  of  the 
lofty  telegraph  buildings  poured  a  flood  of 
light  over  the  great  thoroughfare  ;  among 
the  buildings  particularly  brilliant  with 
illuminations  were  the  city  hall,  of  im- 
mense and  multitudinous  windows,  the 
bank,  insurance,  and  newspaper  buildings, 
the  hotels,  places  of  business,  and  a  count 
less  number  of  private  residences,  and  never 
before  in  the  history  of  the  city  was  there 
such  universal  and  gorgeous  decoration. 
Castle  William  fired  a  salute  of  one  hun- 
dred guns  from  its  prodigious  fifteen-inch 
cannon,  the  church  bells  chimed  and  rang, 
the  locomotive  and  steam-boat  whistles 
screamed  ;  while  all  over  the  city,  as  well 
as  Brooklyn,  Jersey  City,  and  neighbor- 
ing localities,  could  be  seen  thousands  of 
rockets,  blue  lights,  bombs,  and  other 
pyrotechnics.  Rev.  Dr.  Storrs  was  the 
orator  of  the  day. 

Great  parades,  illuminations,  and  decor- 


ations, were  the  chief  features  in  all  the 
large  western  cities  of  the  republic.  The 
St.  Louis  Germans  exhibited,  in  common 
with  their  intelligent  and  thrifty  country- 
men throughout  all  the  Union,  the  utmost 
patriotic  enthusiasm,  the  special  demon- 
stration consisting  of  a  vast  torch-light 
procession,  and  an  address  by  the  Hon. 
Carl  Schurz.  San  Francisco  began  Mon- 
day and  ran  through  Wednesday  with  its 
varied  and  magnificent  festivities,  which 
included  a  military  review,  a  sham  battle, 
with  mock  bombardment  from  the  forts 
and  ships  in  the  harbor  and  bay,  torch- 
light display,  orations,  music,  etc.  In 
Washington,  on  account  of  the  official  par- 
ticipation in  the  exercises  at  Philadelphia, 
the  celebration  was  mainly  under  the 
auspices  of  the  Oldest  Inhabitants'  Asso- 
ciation, at  the  opera-house,  where  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  —  adopted 
when  what  is  now  the  federal  capital  was 
a  wilderness — was  read,  and  an  oration 
pronounced  by  Hon.  L.  A.  Gob  right ;  and 
everywhere  the  national  ensigns,  floating 
from  staff  and  tower,  told  of  the  wondrous 
anniversary. 

In  the  southern  cities,  Richmond  led  off 
at  midnight  preceding,  by  the  firing  of 
guns  at  five  different  points  in  and  about 
the  city,  the  festivities  continuing  far  into 
the  night  succeeding ;  and,  in  Norfolk  and 
Portsmouth,  no  Fourth  of  July  had,  for 
many  years,  been  so  generally  observed. 
Fire-crackers  and  cannon  were  brought 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


703 


into  requisition,  various  societies  paraded 
the  streets,  and  many  houses  were  finely 
decorated  with  flags;  salutes  were  fired  at 
sunrise,  noon,  and  sunset,  by  the  naval 
receiving  ship  and  the  monitors,  all  the 
government  and  commercial  vessels  were 
decked  with  bunting,  and  thousands  of 
people  went  down  to  Fortress  Monroe  to 
witness  the  fire-works  there  displayed. 
Montgomery,  Ala.,  bid  farewell  to  the  Old 
and  saluted  the  New  century  of  indepen- 
dence, in  handsome  style,  all  business 
being  suspended,  the  streets  and  houses 
streaming  with  the  red,  white,  and  blue  ; 
a  salute  of  thirteen  guns  was  fired  at  break 
of  day,  and  of  thirty-seven  at  noon ;  a  pro- 
cession of  military  and  fire  companies  and 
citizens  marched  through  the  streets,  and 


commemorated  by  a  grand  banquet  at  the 
Westminster  Palace  Hotel,  under  the 
auspices  of  the  American  legation,  a  large 
and  distinguished  company  of  citizens  of 
the  United  States  and  their  English 
friends  being  present.  It  was  a  magnifi- 
cent occasion,  worthy  of  the  centennial  of 
the  greatest  Republic  in  the  world.  Toasts 
to  the  health  of  President  Grant  and 
Queen  Victoria  were  received  with  ap- 
plause and  music.  The  sentiment,  '  The 
Day  we  Celebrate,'  was  responded  to  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Thompson ;  '  The  Mother  Coun- 
try,' by  Mr.  Henry  Richard,  M.  P. ;  <  The 
City  of  London,'  by  the  Lord  Mayor; 
'  The  Army  and  Navy,'  by  Major-General 
Crawford  ;  and  '  The  newly-appointed  Min- 
ister of  the  United  States,'  by  Hon  Ed- 


WOMAX'S   PAVILION. 


Ex-Governor  Watts  delivered  an  eloquent 
oration,  the  reading  of  the  Declaration  of 
independence  being  by  Neil  Blue,  the 
oldest  citizen  of  the  place,  and  the  only 
survivor  of  those  who  voted  for  delegates 
to  the  territorial  convention  that  adopted 
the  constitution  under  which  Alabama  was 
admitted  as  one  of  the  Federal  Union. 

Most  significant,  it  may  be  remarked, 
was  the  respect  paid  to  the  occasion  in 
foreign  countries  ;  not  only  the  Americans, 
in  all  the  European  cities,  joined  in  cele- 
brations, some  of  them  outwardly  public 
and  participated  in  by  foreigners,  but  the 
daily  press  everywhere  discussed  the  day 
and  its  historical  lessons.  In  Dublin  there 
was  a  popular  gathering,  numbering  thou- 
sands, and  spirited  political  addresses.  In 
the  city  of  London,  the  anniversary  was 


wards  Pierrepont.  Extracts  from  Bayard 
Taylor's  national  ode,  delivered  by  him 
the  same  day  in  Philadelphia,  were  read ; 
and  letters  in  response  to  invitations  were 
also  read  from  Mr.  Disraeli,  Mr.  Gladstone, 
the  Duke  of  Argyle,  Earl  Granville,  Lord 
Houghton,  the  Earl  of  Roseberry,  the 
Earl  of  Derby,  Dean  Stanley,  John 
Bright,  etc. 

In  Paris,  the  American  legation  was 
superbly  decorated  with  flags  and  insignia, 
and  the  American  colors  were  profusely 
displayed  in  the  principal  streets. 

In  Lisbon,  the  American  ambassador 
held  a  public  reception,  and  gave  a  ban- 
quet in  the  evening ;  several  of  the  city 
journals  also  noticed  the  day,  in  leading 
articles  complimentary  to  the  American 
people. 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


THB  TUlilSIAN  TE3IT. 


The  Americans  residing  in  Frankfort, 
Heidelberg,  Offenbach,  Wiesbaden,  and 
other  towns  in  the  vicinity,  met  in  the 
Frankfort  Palm  Garden,  and  there  joy- 
ously celebrated  the  day  with  speeches, 
the  reading  of  the  immortal  Declaration,  a 
superb  banquet,  and  closing  with  a  concert 
and  magnificent  fire-works.  In  Berlin, 
the  day  was  magnificently  celebrated, 
Minister  Davis  presiding,  and  proposing 
'  The  health  of  President  Grant,'  Mr.  Fay 
following  with  a  toast  to  '  The  Emperor 
of  Germany,'  and,  among  others,  '  Ameri- 
can Citizenship,'  'Americans  ir,  Europe,' 
and  '  The  Day  we  Celebrate,' — the  latter 
being  in  verse.  In  the  evening  there  was 
a  splendid  soiree  at  the  American  ambas- 
sador's, followed  by  tableaux  vivants  rep- 
resenting revolutionary  scenes,  such  as 
Washington  at  Valley  Forge,  Antoinette 
receiving  Lafayette,  etc.  At  Stuttgart, 
there  were  salutes,  speeches,  reading  of 
the  Declaration,  patriotic  hymns  and  songs, 
and  other  festivities. 

Among  the  incidental  matters,  of  endur- 
ing interest,  pertaining  to  the  day  and 
event,  and  which  are  here  deserving  of  rec- 
ord, may  be  mentioned  the  proclamation 
by  the  chief  magistrate  of  our  nation,  in 
which,  with  becoming  deference  to  and  as 
reflecting  the  religious  sense  of  the  people, 
he  said :  "  The  centennial  anniversary  of 
the  day  on  which  the  people  of  the  United 
States  declared  their  right  to  a  separate 
and  equal  station  among  the  powers  of  the 
earth  seems  to  demand  an  exceptional 
observance.  The  founders  of  the  govern- 


ment, at  its  birth,  and  in  its  feebleness, 
invoked  the  blessings  and  the  protection 
of  a  divine  Providence,  and  the  thirteen 
colonies  and  three  millions  of  people  have 
expanded  into  a  nation  of  strength  and 
numbers  commanding  the  position  that 
was  then  asserted,  and  for  which  fervent 
prayers  were  then  offered.  It  seems  fit- 
ting that,  on  the  occurrence  of  the  one 
hundredth  anniversary  of  our  existence  as 
a  nation,  a  grateful  acknowledgment  be 
made  to  Almighty  God  for  the  protection 
and  the  bounties  which  he  has  vouchsafed 
to  our  beloved  country.  I  therefore  invite 
the  good  people  of  the  United  States,  on 
the  approaching  Fourth  day  of  July,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  usual  observances  with  which 
they  are  accustomed  to  greet  the  return 
of  the  day,  further,  in  such  manner,  and 
at  such  time  as  in  their  respective  locali- 
ties and  religious  associations  may  be 
most  convenient,  to  mark  its  recurrence 
by  some  public  religious  and  devout 
thanksgiving  to  Almighty  God,  for  the 
blessings  which  have  been  bestowed  upon 
us  as  a  nation,  during  the  centenary  of 
our  existence,  and  humbly  to  invoke  a 
r.ontinnano.e  of  His  favor  and  of  His  pro- 
tection." In  response  to  this,  many 
places  of  public  worship  were  opened  for 
morning  religious  devotion. 

Another  most  notable  incident  was  an 
autograph  letter  from  the  Emperor  Wil- 
liam, of  Germany,  to  the  President,  con- 
veying his  imperial  congratulations  to  the 
latter  and  to  the  American  people.  This 
remarkable  letter  was  officially  presented 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


705 


to  President  Grant,  on  the  morning  of 
July  4th,  by  the  German  ambassador  in 
person,  and  was  as  follows  : — 

WILLIAM,  by  the  grace  of  God,  Emperor 
of  Germany,  King  of  Prussia,  etc. 

To  THE  PRESIDENT  OP  THE  UNITED 
STATES  : — Great  and  Good  Friend, — It 
has  been  vouchsafed  to  you  to  celebrate 
the  Centennial  festival  of  the  day  upon 
which  the  great  republic  over  which  you 
preside  entered  the  rank  of  independent 
nations.  The  purposes  of  its  founders 
have,  by  a  wise  application  of  the  teach- 
ings of  the  history  of  the  foundation  of  na- 
tions, and  with  insight  into  the  distant  fu- 
ture, been  realized  by  a  development  with- 
out a  parallel.  To  congratulate  you  and 
the  American  people  upon  the  occasion 
affords  me  so  much  the  greater  pleasure, 
because,  since  the  treaty  of  friendship 
which  my  ancestor  of  glorious  memory, 
King  Frederick  II.,  who  now  rests  with 
God,  concluded  with  the  United  States,  un- 
disturbed friendship  has  continually  exist- 
ed between  Germany  and  America,  and  has 
been  developed  and  strengthened  by  the 
ever-increasing  importance  of  their  mutual 
relations,  and  by  an  intercourse,  becoming 
more  and  more  fruitful,  in  every  domain 
of  commerce  and  science.  That  the  wel- 
fare of  the  United  States,  and  the  friend- 
ship o£  the  two  countries,  may  continue  to 
increase,  is  my  sincere  desire  and  confi- 
dent hope. 

Accept  the  renewed  assurance  of  my 
unqualified  esteem.  WILLIAM. 

Countersigned,  VON  BISMARCK. 
BERLIN,  June  9,  1876. 

On  account  of  the  great  interest  in  this 
friendly  document  from  "Fatherland," 
which  was  naturally  excited  among  the 
German  population  of  our  country,  (now 
numbering  some  millions  of  our  most  pat- 
riotic people,)  we  likewise  reproduce  the 
letter  in  its  native  language,  together  with 
an  authorized  fac-simile  of  the  Emperor's 
autograph,  also  a  fine  portrait  of  the  vener- 
able monarch,  and  an  engraving  of  the 
new  national  flag, — none  of  which  features 


are  to  be  found  in  any  other  volume  pub- 
lished in  the  United  States. 

A  letter  of  similar  purport,  though  not 
received  in  season  to  be  delivered  to  the 
president  on  the  Fourth,  was  also  sent  by 
the  Czar  of  Russia,  also  by  King  Victor 
Emauuel,  of  Italy,  and  from  other  na- 
tions. 

Noteworthy,  perhaps,  above  all  the  other 
inspiring  incidents  of  the  day,  and  which 
wrought  up  the  people's  patriotic  sensibil- 
ities to  the  most  fervid  pitch,  was  the 
scene  already  briefly  alluded  to  on  a  pre- 
ceding page,  when  Mayor  Stokley  pre- 
sented to  Kichard  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia, 
the  original  Declaration  of  Independence, 
— Mr.  Lee's  grandfather  having,  one  hun- 
dred years  ago,  offered  the  resolution  to 
the  Continental  Congress,  "  that  these 
United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right  ought  to 
be,  free  and  independent  States."  On  the 
age-dimmed  but  immortal  parchment  being 
exhibited,  in  its  massive  frame,  to  the 
sight  of  the  people,  men  swung  their  hats, 
and  cheered  with  almost  frantic  enthus- 
iasm ;  women  waved  their  handkerchiefs, 
and  in  some  instances  gave  audible  utter- 
ances to  their  transport  of  delight ;  chil- 
dren innumerable  were  held  up  in  the 
struggling  mass  of  humanity  to  view  the 
venerated  national  relic  ;  and,  amidst  the 
wildest  expressions  of  joy  on  every  side, 
that  ascended  to  and  seemed  to  rend  the 
very  heavens,  the  'sacred  document  was 
read.  The  chord  of  unity  and  sympathy, 
full,  free,  and  entire,  ran  through  the  vast 
assemblage,  as  though  no  territorial  sec- 
tionalism had  ever  marred  the  nation's 
harmony — or,  if  it  had,  that  all  by-gones 
were  now  happily  buried  and  obliviated. 
And,  as  between  North  and  South,  noth- 
ing could  have  given  more  gracious  assur- 
ance of  present  good  will  and  future 
promise  of  amity  and  accordant  purpose, 
than  the  message  dispatched  by  the  mayor 
of  the  former  capital  of  the  Southern  Con- 
federacy, as  follows:  "The  people  of 
Montgomery,  Alabama,  the  birthplace  of 
the  Confederate  government,  through  its 
City  Council,  extend  a  cordial  and  fraternal 
greeting  to  all  the  people  of  the  United 


roe 


CENTENNIAL  COMMEMORATION. 


States,  with  an  earnest  prayer  for  the  per- 
petuation of  concord  and  brotherly  feelings 
throughout  the  land."  And  in  this  spirit 
the  representatives  of  all  sections  met 
together  in  the  city  where  the  Republic 
had  its  birth,  and  in  this  spirit,  too,  the 
memorable  day  was  ushered  in  and  cel- 


ebrated wherever  floated  the  ensigns 
of  American  nationality ;  fraternization, 
North,  South,  East,  and  West,  was  uni- 
versal ;  all  hearts  united  in  the  ascription 
of  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  for  the 
Past ;  and  deep  answered  unto  deep,  in  the 
gladsome  acclaim 


s* 


It  I  !•  I 


LXXXIV. 

ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD,  IN  WASH- 
INGTON, JULY  2,  1S81. 


His  Departure  from  the  White  House,  on  that  Day,  with  Secretary  Blaine,  on  a  Brief  Tonr  of  Recreation. 
— Excellent  Health,  Spirits,  and  Happy  Anticipations. — Arrival  at  the  Depot. — A  Lurking  Assassin,  C. 
J.  Guiteau,  Approaches  in  the  Rear. — A  Startling  but  Harmless  Shot,  followed  by  Another  which 
Enters  the  Body. — The  President  Sinks  to  the  floor. — A  Hideous  Tragedy.— Capture  of  the  Murderer  ; 
his  Character  and  Utterances. — The  Wounded  Victim  Conveyed  in  an  Ambulance  to  the  Executive 
Mansion.— The  Nation  Horrified,  and  the  Whole  Civilized  World  Shocked. — Condolences  from  the 
Remotest  Courts  and  Governments. — Unaffected  Sympathy  from  all  Political  Parties. — Past  Differences 
Hushed  and  Forgotten. — Eleven  Weeks  of  Suffering. — Heroism  and  Resignation  of  the  Patient. — 
Devotion  and  Fortitude  of  the  President's  Wife. — Removal  to  Long  Branch,  N.  J. — Temporary  Relief. 
— Hovering  between  Life  and  Death. — Solemn  Prayers  for  his  Recovery. — Sudden  and  Fatal  End  of 
the  Struggle. — A  Pall  over  Four  Continents. — Tributes  from  Sovereigns  and  Peoples  the  World  Over. 
— The  Wail  and  Lamentation  of  Mankind. — Funeral  Procession  and  Ceremonies. — Queen  Victoria's 
Bloral  Offering  on  the  Bier.— At  Rest,  in  Lake  View  Cemetery,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 


•  The  path  of  glory  leads  but  to  the  grave." 


the  fourth  of  March, 
1881,  J«ames  A.  Gar- 
field,  of  Ohio,  was  in- 
augurated  President  of   the 
United  States,  to  which  high 
office  he  had  been  elected  by 
the  popular  vote  of  his  coun- 
trymen.    Long  a  citizen  of  Mentor, 
Ohio,  he  had  for  many  years  repre- 
sented his  district  in  the  halls  of 
Congress,     and    now,     taking    his 
departure    from   one   of   the   most 
attractive  homes  and  delightful  com- 
munities on  the  last  day  of  February, 
to  assume  his  duties  as  chief  magis- 
trate of  fifty  millions  of  people,  he 
thus  affectingly  addressed  himself, 
to  his  friends  and  neighbors, — words 
which  now  are  treasured,  as  a  legacy 
most  tender  and  revered,  by  those 
whose    good   fortune    it  was  to   be 
present : — 
"  You  have  come  from  your  homes 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


709 


ASSASSINATION  OF   PRESIDENT  OAKFIF.LD. 


— than  which  no  happier  are  known  in 
this  country — from  this  beautiful  lake- 
side, full  of  all  that  makes  a  country  life 
happy,  to  give  me  your  blessing  and  fare- 
well. You  do  not  know  how  much  I  leave 
behind  me  of  friendship  and  confidence 
and  home-like  happiness ;  but  I  know  I  am 
indebted  to  this  whole  people  for  acts  of 
kindness,  of  neighborly  friendship,  of  polit- 
ical trust,  of  public  support,  that  few  men 
have  ever  enjoyed  at  the  hands  of  any  peo- 
ple. You  are  a  part  of  this  great  community 
of  northern  Ohio  which  for  so  many  years 
has  had  no  political  desire  but  the  goo  1  of 


the  country,  no  wish  but  the  promotion  of 
liberty  and  justice, — has  had  no  scheme  but 
the  building  up  of  all  that  was  worthy  and 
true  in  our  republic.  If  I  were  to  search 
over  all  the  world,  I  could  not  find  a  better 
model  of  political  spirit,  of  aspirations  for 
the  true  and  right,  than  I  have  found  in 
this  community,  during  the  eighteen  years 
its  people  have  honored  me  with  their  con- 
fidence. I  thank  the  citizens  of  the  county 
for  their  kindness,  and  especially  my  neigh- 
bors of  Mentor,  who  have  demanded  so 
little  of  me  and  have  done  so  much  to 
make  my  home  a  refuge  and  a  joy.  What 


710 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PKESIDENT  GAKFIELD. 


awaits  me  I  cannot  now  speak  of,  but  I 
shall  carry  to  the  discharge  of  the  duties 
that  lie  before  me,  to  the  problems  and 
dangers  I  may  meet,  a  sense  of  your  con- 
fidence and  love,  which  will  always  be 
answered  by  my  gratitude.  Neighbors, 
friends,  and  constituents,  Farewell !  " 

Four  days  after  this  cheery  yet  half 
pathetic  adieu,  the  veteran  statesman  and 
brave  soldier  stond  with  uncovered  head, 
in  the  presence  of  a  vast  and  brilliant  mul. 
titude  beneath  the  dome  of  the  nation's 
capitol,  and  there,  with  hand  upraised,  and 


and  there  had  lately  been  arranged,  in 
connection  with  this  visit  to  Williamstown, 
a  somewhat  extended  trip  through  Ver- 
mont, New  Hampshire,  and  Massachusetts, 
in  which  he  was  to  be  accompanied  by 
Mrs.  Garfield  and  two  or  three  of  their 
children,  several  members  of  the  cabinet, 
with  their  wives,  and  other  particular 
friends.  All  the  arrangements  for  this 
joyous  pleasure  trip  had  been  carefully 
completed,  and  every  one  of  the  party  was 
anticipating  a  delightful  ten  days'  jaunt. 
Those  who  were  to  start  from  Washington 


HOME  OF  PRESIDENT  GAKF1ELD,  MENTOK,  OHIO. 


reverently  kissing  the  Bible,  took  solemn 
oath,  as  President  of  the  United  States, 
to  preserve,  protect  and  defend  the  Consti- 
tution thereof.  The  cares,  harassments 
and  contests  of  this  high  office,  mingled 
with  family  affliction,  thronged  in  full 
measure  upon  him,  and  it  was  not  until 
the  burning  sun  of  July  rendered  exist- 
ence fairly  uncomfortable  that  he  sought 
change  and  relief. 

For  some  time  past,  he  had  cherished  the 
expectation  of  being  present  at  the  com- 
mencement exercises  of  his  alma  mater, 
Williams  College,  in  Williamstown,  Mass., 


were  to  take  a  special  car  attached  to  the 
limited  express  train  for  New  York,  at 
half-past  nine  o'clock,  Saturday  morning. 
They  were  to  be  joined  at  New  York  by 
Mrs.  Garfield  and  two  or  three  others  of 
the  president's  family,  who  had  been  so- 
journing at  Long  Branch,  N.  J.,  on  account 
of  Mrs.  Garfield's  ill  health,  from  which, 
however,  she  was  happily  recovering.  The 
president  had  looked  forward  to  this  trip 
with  eagerness  and  delight,  and  in  view  of 
it  had  been  in  the  best  of  spirits,  notwith- 
standing the  political  infelicities  which 
beset  him.  The  night  before,  he  and  Sec- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


711 


MRS.   GARFIELD. 


retary  Elaine  had  been  engaged  together, 
until  a  late  hour,  in  conference  upon  public 
business.'  The  president,  nevertheless, 
arose  early  the  next  morning,  and,  after 
finishing  up  some  executive  business,  break- 
fasted with  his  son,  and  gave  final  direc- 
tions to  the  private  secretary,  who  was  to 
remain  at  his  usual  post. 

He  took  a  carriage  with  Secretary  Elaine, 
to  drive  to  the  station  of  the  Baltimore 
and  Potomac  railroad,  corner  of  Sixth  and 
B  streets,  just  off  Pennsylvania  avenue. 
They  drove  to  the  B  street  entrance,  which 
admits  chiefly  to  the  ladies'  room,  a  pleas- 
ant carpeted  apartment,  furnished  with 
fixed  wooden  settees,  so  arranged  as  to 
leave  a  broad  passage  way  directly  from 
the  outer  door  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room.  Two  doors  open  from  the 
side  of  the  room  opposite  the  outer  door 
into  the  large  waiting  room  for  gentle- 
men, and  it  was  necessary  to  pass  around 


the  ends  of  the  benches,  either  to  the 
right  or  left,  to  reach  one  of  these  doors. 
In  the  ladies'  room  there  had  been  ob- 
served a  nervous,  short,  thick-set  man, 
restless  in  his  movements,  passing  back 
and  forth, — his  conduct  striking  enough  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  woman  in 
charge.  George,  the  well  known  colored 
coachman  of  the  distinguished  party,  drove 
to  the  steps,  and  the  door  of  the  coach  was 
opened.  The  president  was  not  in  any 
hurry  to  get  out.  A  porter  took  the  lug. 
gage  through  the  room.  The  president, 
seeing  a  depot  official  near  by,  asked  him 
how  much  time  he  had  before  the  train  left. 

"You  have  ten  minutes,  sir,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  president  made  no  haste  to  leave 
the  carriage,  but  sat  talking  with  Secretary 
Elaine,  in  the  most  informal  and  chatty 
way.  They  did  not  expect  to  see  one 
another  for  some  weeks,  for  it  was  Mr. 


712 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


Blaine's  purpose  to  go  to  his  home  in 
Maine,  in  a  day  or  two,  for  a  prolonged 
stay.  The  president  stepped  from  the 
carriage,  Mr.  Blaine  after  him,  and,  as  he 
stood  there,  he  lifted  his  hat  to  a  lady ; 
his  physical  health  seemed  so  robust  as  to 
cause  the  lady  to  speak  of  it  to  her  husband. 
The  president  entered  the  depot,  Mr. 
Blaine  with  him,  and  was  passing  along 
the  aisle  leading  fiom  the  door  to  the  inner 
or  large  waiting  room.  Suddenly  there 
was  a  report, — seemingly  like  that  of  one 
«f  the  larger  fire-crackers  in  such  common 
use  during  Fourth-of-July  week.  The 
president  himself  exhibited  no  apprehen- 
sion, not  even  paying  the  slightest  heed 
to  the  sound, — had  he  done  so,  had  he 
turned,  he  might  possibly  have  seen  the 
assassin,  who  stood  there,  cool  and  quiet, 
not  more  than  three  feet  behind  him,  with 
a  revolver  pointed  at  his  back.  Neither 
did  Mr.  Blaine  manifest  any  uneasiness, — 
in  fact,  though  people  were  moving  pro- 
miscuously around,  and  within  arm's  reach 
of  the  assassin,  no  one  seemed  to  suspect 
that  murder  was  about  to  be  committed. 
It  was  in  an  instant.  The  reports  were 
only  such  a  time  apart  as  sufficed  for  the 
re-cocking  of  the  revolver.  At  the  second 
one,  the  president  stopped,  turned,  saw  the 
assassin  standing  there  with  the  ready 
revolver,  and  for  an  instant  he  and  his 
murderer  were  face  to  face.  Then  the 
president  reeled.  He  fainted  not  to  un- 
consciousness but  to  weakness,  and  even 
before  he  was  well  caught  he  fell  to  the 
floor,  striking  the  bench  as  he  did  so. 

There  ivas  terror  at  once.  The  secretary 
of  state  seemed  instantly  to  realize  what 
had  happened  and  what  its  consequences 
were.  He  shouted  for  help.  He  called 
'•  Rockwell,  Rockwell,  where  is  Rockwell  ?  " 
Then  he  turned,  and  seemed  to  be  about  to 
make  for  the  assassin,  but  the  latter  was 
already  in  the  firm  grasp  of  others.  Then 
the  secretary  of  state  knelt  ilown  beside 
the  president,  though  already  tender  hands 
had  raised  and  were  supporting  Mr.  Gar- 
field's  head.  Mrs.  Smith,  the  lady  in 
charge  of  the  room,  in  an  instant  was  at 


his  side  ;  she  had  even,  in  the  brief  time 
that  was  necessary  for  her  to  reach  him, 
given  orders  that  water  be  brought  at 
once.  Kneeling  there  beside  him,  she 
raised  his  head,  placed  it  in  her  lap,  and 
bathed  his  face.  The  president  uttered 
no  sound,  and  said  not  a  word,  but  when 
his  son  Harry,  who  was  to  accompany  him 
on  the  trip,  came  running  back  from  the 
outer  platform  and  saw  his  father,  who 
but  a  moment  ago  he  had  left  in  such 
splendid  health  and  vigor,  and  now  pros- 
trate, with  half  closed  eyes  and  bloodless 
brow,  he  bent  down  to  his  father's  form, 
and  recognition  and  a  whisper  followed; 
the  pres  dent's  eyes  closed  again,  and  his 
son  cried  piteously. 

It  was  for  the  moment  impossible  to 
say  how  or  where  the  president  had  been 
wounded.  It  was  enough  to  know  that 
he  had  received  such  a  wound  as  required 
instant  medical  attendance.  The  depot  was 
at  once  thronged.  People  stood  around 
him,  standing  tiptoe  behind  each  other,  so 
that  not  only  the  president,  but  his  attend- 
ants, suffered  greatly  for  the  lack  of  air. 
The  building  was  cleared,  and  a  mattress 
was  brought.  The  president  was  tenderly 
lifted  and  placed  upon  it,  still  uttering  no 
sound,  and  was  borne  to  the  superintend- 
ent's room.  Secretaries  Windom,  James, 
and  Lin  -oln  were  by  the  president's  side 
immediately  after  the  shooting.  The  for- 
mer, bending  gently  over  the  president, 
inquired  of  him  where  he  was  wounded. 
The  president's  first  thought  seems  to 
have  been  of  his  wife,  saying — 

"  Go  and  telegraph  my  wife  that  I  am 
hurt,  and  ask  her,  if  she  feels  able,  to  come 
on  to  Washington  at  once." 

The  secretary  of  war,  to  whom  a  scene 
like  this  was  the  second  in  his  experi- 
ence,— the  first  being  that  of  his  own 
father,  President  Lincoln, — gave  hurried 
directions  for  the  calling  out  of  the  mili- 
tary, and  also  for  the  procuring  of  medica? 
attendance.  It  was  at  his  orders  that  the 
galloping  horsemen  and  the  flying  coach- 
men came  with  such  furious  pace  down 
|  the  avenue.  They  speedily  returned  with 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


713 


a  physician,  Dr.  Bliss,  others  also  arriving 
almost  simultaneously.  At  the  first  glance, 
Dr.  Bliss  said,  "  This  is  an  ugly  wound," 
and  Dr.  Towusend  in  a  few  whispered 
words,  expressed  his  view  of  the  case  to 
Dr.  Bliss. 

It  was  deemed  altogether  desirable  that 
the  wounded  man  should  be  taken  to  his 
own  house,  and  MI  ambulance  was  spi'ed- 
ily  brought  to  the  door,  and,  as  soon  as 
the  smooth  pavement  of  the  avenue  was 
reached,  the  horses  were  put  to  the  run, 
and  within  an  hour  of  the  shooting  the 
president  was  lying  on  his  own  bed,  in  an 
upper  i  hamber  of  the  executive  mansion. 
He  complained  of  pain  in  his  feet  more 
than  in  his  arm  or  bod}',  and  at  his  own  re- 
quest his  feet  were  undressed  and  rubbed. 
The  doctors  cut  away  his  clothing  to  get 
at  his  wound ;  but,  though  the  doctor 
probed  the  wound  with  his  finger,  he  could 
not  make  out  with  any  certainty  what 
direction  the  ball  had  taken,  nor  where  it 
was  lodged.  He  vomited  profusely,  which 
was  taken  as  a  sign  that  he  was  wounded 
in  a  mortal  part. 

Meantime,  the  assassin,  who  had  been 
promptly  secured  before  he  could  leave 
the  station,  was  rapidly  driven  to  police 
headquarters,  and  when  it  became  doubt- 
ful, as  it  almost  immediately  did,  whether 
he  could  be  protected  from  the  vengeance 
of  the  frenzied  populace,  he  was  placed  in 
a  carriage  and  driven  to  the  jail,  in  the 
extreme  easterly  portion  of  the  city.  He 
proved  to  be  Charles  J.  Guiteau,  a  shiftless 
fellow  of  middle  age,  sometimes  living  in 
one  place  and  sometimes  another,  obtain- 
ing an  uncertain  support  by  assuming 
now  to  be  a  lawyer,  and  again  lecturer, 
author,  politician,  and  who  had  sought  to 
obtain  office  under  government,  but  un- 
successfully,— a  man  shunned  by  all  who 
knew  him  well,  for  his  various  imposi- 
tions and  general  worthlessness.  He  sim- 
ply turned,  after  he  saw  the  president  fall, 
and,  evidently  expecting  arrest,  uncon- 
cernedly delivered  up  his  pistol.  From 
his  pocket-book  was  taken  the  following 
letter,  dated  July  2  : 


"  To  THE  WHITE  HOUSE  : — 

The  President's  tragic  death  was  a  sad 
necessity,  but  it  will  unite  the  republican 
party  and  save  the  republic.  Life  is  a 
flimsy  dream,  and  it  matters  little  when 
one  goes  A  human  life  is  of  small  value. 
During  the  war  thousands  of  brave  boys 
went  down  without  a  tear.  I  presume 
that  the  President  was  a  Christian,  and 
that  he  will  be  happier  in  Paradise  than 
here.  It  will  be  no  worse  for  Mrs.  Gar- 
field,  dear  soul,  to  part  with  her  husband 
in  this  way  than  by  natural  death.  He  is 
liable  to  go  at  any  time,  any  way.  I  had 
no  ill  will  towards  the  President.  His 
death  was  a  political  necessity.  I  am  a 
lawyer,  a  theologian,  and  a  politician ;  I 
am  a  stalwart  of  the  stalwarts ;  I  was  with 
General  Grant  and  the  rest  of  our  men  in 
New  York  during  the  canvass.  I  have 
some  papers  for  the  press,  which  I  shall 
leave  with  Byron  Andrews  and  his  co- 
journalists  at  1402  New  York  avenue, 
where  all  the  reporters  can  see  them.  I 
am  going  to  jail."  The  wretch  exulted  in 
his  act,  and,  on  some  one  asking  another, 
in  his  hearing,  "  What  did  the  president 
do  when  the  shot  was  fired,"  Guiteau  said, 
"  I'll  show  you,"  and,  throwing  up  his 
right  elbow  and  his  hand  hanging,  re- 
marked, "  That's  the  way  he  did,  when 
the  shot  got  him — he  sort  of  turned  and 
looked  scared."  He  would  inquire  of  his 
keepers,  as  to  the  president's  condition ; 
when  the  answer  was  "  better,"  he  would 
look  despondent,  but,  if  told  his  victim 
was  worse,  he  would  smile. 

And  who  was  the  victim  of  this  viper 
in  human  form,  at  whose  ghastly  deed  the 
whole  civilized  world  stood  horrified  and 
shocked, — the  remotest  courts  and  govern- 
ments pouring  in  their  condolences, — and 
all  party  differences  hushed  and  oblivi- 
ated? 

He  may  be  well  called  a  representative 
product  of  our  country — its  institutions 
and  opportunities.  Born  in  Orange,  Cuy- 
ahoga  County,  0.,  in  1831,  his  father  died 
when  James  was  about  two  years  old,  and 
his  boyhood  ai:d  early  manhood  presented 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


MRS.   ELIZA  IS.   UAKFIELD. 


a  tough,  hand  to  hand  struggle  with  pov- 
erty, as  he  fought  for  an  education,  aiding 
meanwhile,  his  "  saintly  mother,"  as  he 
was  accustomed  to  call  her,  and  for  whom 
his  love  seemed  boundless.  Like  Lincoln, 
he  was  in  his  boyhood  employed  as  a  canal 
driver  and  wood  chopper.  But  the  in- 
stinct for  an  education  was  strong  with 
him,  and  an  attack  of  ague  having  inter- 
rupted the  flow  of  his  canal  life,  he  de- 
cided to  go  to  a  school  called  Geauga 
Academy,  in  an  adjoining  county.  Start- 
ing with  but  seventeen  dollars  in  money, 
he  worked  his  own  way  through  the  insti- 
tution at  Hiram,  Portage  County,  Ohio, 
and  at  the  age  of  twenty-three  entered  the 
junior  class  of  Williams  College,  Mass., 
and  graduated  in  1856,  with  scholastic 
honors.  After  this,  he  was  called  to  teach 
Latin  and  Greek  at  the  Hiram  institution, 


and  one  year  later  was  made  president  of 
the  same.  While  officiating  there,  Mr. 
Garfield  married  Miss  Lucretia  Rudolph, 
herself  a  teacher,  and  daughter  of  a  worthy 
citizen  in  the  neighborhood.  In  1859, 
Mr.  Garfield  was  elected  to  the  state  sen- 
ate ;  but  when  the  war  broke  out,  he  was 
appointed  Colonel  of  the  Forty-second  Ohio 
regiment,  and  went  to  the  front  in  eastern 
Kentucky.  His  army  record,  including 
the  defeat  of  Humphrey  Marshall's  forces, 
participation  in  the  reduction  of  Pittsburg 
Landing,  at  the  siege  of  Corinth,  in  the 
operations  along  the  Metvphis  and  Charles- 
ton railroad,  and  as  chief  of  staff  of  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland,  was  a  heroic 
one  — rapidly  raising  him  to  the  rank  of 
Major  General,  to  which  he  was  promoted 
for  gallantry  at  Chickamauga.  In  1862, 
he  was  nominated  to  congress,  and  ac- 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


715 


cepted  because  he  supposed,  in  common 
wiih  many  others,  that  the  war  would  be 
substantially  over  by  the  time  he  would  be 
called  to  take  his  seat.  His  congressional 
record  is  one  of  great  force  and  ability, 
and  includes  the  chairmanship  of  the  house 
committee  on  military  affairs,  and  of  the 
appropriation  committee,  and,  later,  he  be- 
came the  acknowledged  leader  of  his  party 
in  the  house.  At  the  close  of  Mr.  Thur- 
man's  term  as  senator  from  Ohio,  Mr.  Gar- 
field  was  chosen  to  succeed  him.  Before 
the  time  arrived,  however,  for  him  to  take 
his  seat  in  that  august  body,  the  presiden- 
tial nominating  convention  assembled  in 
Chicago,  resulting  in  the  selection,  after 
many  ballotings,  of  James  Abram  Gar- 
field,  and  to  this  office — the  highest  elec- 
tive position  in  the  world — he  was  chosen 
by  his  countrymen,  in  November,  1880. 

In  person,  Mr.  Garfield  stood  six  feet 
high,  was  broad  shouldered  and  squarely 
built,  and  had  an  unusually  large  head, 
three-fourths  of  which  seemed  to  be  fore- 
head ;  his  hair  and  beard  were  light  brown, 
large  light  blue  eyes,  a  prominent  nose,  and 
full  cheeks.  He  dressed  plainly,  wore  a 
broad-brim  slouch  hat  and  stout  boots, 
cared  little  for  luxurious  living,  was  sober 
though  not  abstinent  in  all  things,  and  was 
devoted  to  his  wife,  children  and  home. 
He  was  a  religious  man  as  well  as  youth, 
having  early  connected  himself  with  the 
body  known  as  the  Disciples  of  Christ, 
so  numerous  in  the  middle  and  western 
States,  but  having  only  one  place  of  wor- 
ship in  Washington, — the  humble  build- 
ing on  Vermont  Avenue, — where  Mr.  Gar- 
field  attended. 

Soon  as  possible,  by  means  of  telegraph, 
the  president's  message  to  his  wife  reached 
her  at  Elberon,  Long  Branch,  where  she 
was  stopping.  Her  grief  was  past  expres- 
sion. A  second  dispatch,  saying  that  her 
husband  would  recover,  dispelled  her  fears 
somewhat,  and  she  soon  after  started  with 
her  family,  on  a  special  train.  Though 
weak  from  her  recent  illness  and  the  shock 
of  the  assassination,  Mrs.  Garfield  showed 
wonderful  courage  and  self-control,  after 


her  arrival  in  Washington.  She  took  her 
place  at  her  husband's  bedside,  encourag- 
ing him  with  her  presence  and  sympathy, 
and  giving  all  the  aid  she  could  to  the 
attending  physicians  and  nurses,  continu- 
ing this  devotedness — even  when  others' 
hopes  and  strength  failed,  to  the  end  of 
the  sad,  sad  struggle. 

To  the  venerable  mother  of  the  presi- 
dent, the  fearful  tidings  gave  a  great 
shock.  "  We  have  heard  that  James  is 
hurt,"  said  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Larabee. 
"  How  ;  by  the  cars  ?  "  asked  the  mother. 
"  No,  he  was  shot  by  an  assassin,  but  he 
was  not  killed."  "  The  Lord  help  me !  " 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Garfield.  She  afterwards 
dictated  a  dispatch  to  the  family  at  Wash- 
ington, saying  :  "  The  news  was  broken 
to  me  this  morning  and  shocked  me  very 
much.  Since  receiving  your  telegram,  I 
feel  much  more  hopeful.  Tell  James  that 
I  hear  he's  cheerful,  and  I  am  glad  of  it. 
Tell  him  to  keep  in  good  spirits,  and  ac- 
cept the  love  and  sympathy  of  mother, 
sisters,  and  friends. — ELIZA  GAKFIELD." 
Bended  with  years  and  sorrow,  the  tender 
est  sympathy  was  universally  felt  for  the 
venerable  and  afflicted  woman. 

And  now  around  the  bedside  of  the  suf- 
fering president  clustered  the  watchful 
and  anxious  sympathies  of  fifty  millions 
of  people — aye,  and  of  all  the  nations  of 
the  world.  The  fate  of  the  president  de- 
pended on  one  distressing  wound,  the  ball 
having  entered  his  body  at  the  back,  on 
the  right,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  elev- 
enth rib,  and  necessarily  involving  in  its 
course  the  vital  parts.  Eminent  physi- 
cians,— Drs.  Bliss,  Barnes,Woodward,  Rey- 
burn,  Agnew  and  Hamilton — had  charge  of 
the  case,  and  bulletins  were  issued  several 
times  daily.  The  president's  mind  contin- 
ued clear,  and  he  early  informed  Dr.  Bliss 
that  he  desired  to  be  kept  accurately 
informed  about  his  condition.  "Conceal 
nothing  from  me,  doctor,"  said  he,  "for 
you  know  I  am  not  afraid  to  die."  In  the 
course  of  the  day,  when  the  indications 
pointed  to  his  dissolution,  the  president 
asked  what  the  prospects  were.  He  said, 


716 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PKESIDENT  GAEFIELD. 


"  Are  they  bad,  doctor  ;  don't  be  afraid  to 
tell  me  frankly.  I  am  ready  for  the 
worst."  '•  Mr.  President,"  replied  Dr. 
Bliss,  "your  condition  is  extremely  crit- 
ical. I  do  not  think  you  can  live  many 
hours."  "  God's  will  be  done,  doctor,  I 
am  ready  to  go,  if  my  time  has  come," 
was  the  firm  response.  About  the  time 
he  began  to  rally,  he  said,  "  Doctor,  what 
are  now  the  indications  ?  "  Dr.  Bliss  said, 
"  There  is  a  chance  of  recovery."  "  Well, 
then,"  replied  the  president  cheerfully, 


seemed  favorable,  this  joy  and  hope  were 
changed  to  sadness,  at  the  relapses  that 
followed.  The  malarial  influences  pertain- 
ing to  the  situation  of  the  White  House, 
in  the  hot  summer  season,  were  considered 
a  most  serious  drawback,  and  this,  in  con- 
nection with  various  alarming  symptoms 
that  continued  to  develop  themselves,  to- 
gether with  the  president's  urgent  desire 
for  a  change  of  air  and  location,  led  to  the 
plan  of  removing  him  to  Long  Branch, 
'N.  J.  Offers  were  at  once  made  by  the 


DR.    D     HAYKS   AliNEW. 


DR.    FRANK    H.    HAMILTON. 


DK.   D.   \V.    BLISS. 


"  we  will  take  that  chance."  In  a  similar 
strain  of  calmness,  resignation,  and  often- 
times of  pleasantry,  did  he  converse  with 
his  other  physicians,  also  with  his  faithful 
nurse.  Mrs.  Edson,  and  with  his  warmly 
attached  personal  friends,  Messrs.  Swaim 
and  Rockwell. 

All  that  human  love  and  skill  could  do 
was  done,  for  many  weeks,  to  relieve,  com- 
fort, and  restore  the  distinguished  patient ; 
but,  as  often  as  the  great  public  heart  was 
made  to  swell  with  joy,  when  the  prospect 


owners  of  residences  at  that  beautiful  and 
healthy  sea- shore  resort,  of  the  free  use  of 
their  houses,  and  that  of  Mr.  Francklyn, 
an  English  gentleman  of  wealth  and  public 
spirit,  was  finally  accepted. 

The  removal  was  made  on  the  sixth  of 
September,  by  a  special  train.  The  jour- 
ney was  accomplished  without  the  slights 
est  trouble,  so  ample  and  perfect  were  the 
arrangements  for  the  purpose.  The  appli- 
ances were  so  complete,  that  all  trouble 
from  the  jarring  of  the  train  or  rattle  of 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


717 


passing  the  bridges  was  avoided.  The 
heat  was  the  worst  element.  No  trains 
were  in  motion  at  the  time  of  the  passing 
of  the  Nation's  Special.  There  was  uni- 
versal turning  out  at  all  stations,  great 
and  small  ;  doors  of  farm  houses  were 
crowded  ;  and  workmen  in  fields  and  from 
factories,  along  the  whole  line,  stood  watch- 
ing for  the  train,  and  reverently  uncovered 
as  it  passed.  The  speed  was  great,  and 
the  president  constantly  urged  greater,— he 
rode  so  easily,  and  felt  so  strongly  the  im- 
portance of  saving  time,  and  thus  husband- 
ing his  little  strength.  At  Trenton, 
where  it  was  decided  to  dress  the  wound, 
he  said,  "  Gentlemen,  progress  seems  more 
important  to  me,"  so  it  was  allowed  to  go 


behalf,  that  when  Mr.  Warren  Young 
passed  along  the  room  with  some  mail 
matter,  the  president  seeing  him  held  out 
his  hand,  remarking,  "  Warren,  don't  you 
think  I  look  better  to  day  ?"  To  which 
Mr.  Young  responded  in  the  affirmative  ; 
and,  continuing,  the  president  added  with 
emphasis,  "  and  I  feel  better — this  is  good 
air." 

The  fluctuations  of  gain  and  loss,  how- 
ever, which  had  characterized  the  case 
from  the  beginning,  still  continued,  not- 
withstanding the  buoyancy  of  spirits  ex- 
hibited alike  by  the  physicians,  the  pub- 
lic, and  the  patient  himself.  He  had  even 
been  allowed  to  leave  his  bed  for  a  reclin- 
ing chair,  from  which  he  might  have  a 


FRANCKLVS   COTTAGE,    HUH.K' >x.   >'.  J. 


until  he  arrived.  Two  miles  were  run.  by 
close  count,  by  several  watches,  in  fifty- 
five  seconds,  and  th*?  average  run,  includ- 
ing stops,  was  over  fifty-five  miles  an  hour. 
At  the  time  of  arrival  the  heat  was  in- 
tense— intense  throughout  the  country, — 
but  when  this  passed,  and  the  fresh  sea 
breeze  set  in,  the  president  enjoyed  it  to 
the  utmost,  and  the  benefit  to  his  health 
seemed  so  encouraging  that  the  bulletins 
were  diminished  in  frequency,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  cabinet  went  off  in  pursuit  of 
recreation,  and  the  governors  of  the  sev- 
eral States  united  in  recommending  a  day 
of  solemn  prayer  to  God  for  his  continued 
improvement  and  complete  recovery.  So 
marked  was  the  apparent  change  in  his 


window  view  of  the  ocean  ;  the  chair  was 
inclined  at  an  angle  of  a  little  more  than 
twenty  degrees,  and  the  president  lay  upon 
it  with  his  head  slightly  more  elevated 
than  it  was  upon  the  bed.  The  change 
was  so  refreshing  that  he  asked  to  have  it 
repeated  the  following  day,  which  was 
done.  On  being  placed  in  the  chair  and 
wheeled  over  to  the  window,  where  he 
could  look  out  upon  the  ocean,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  This  is  good.  I  like  this.  I 
think  I  ought  to  have  been  taken  here 
three  weeks  ago."  The  remarkable  com- 
plications of  the  case  continued,  however, 
to  assert  themselves,  none  of  these  being 
more  discouraging,  perhaps,  than  the  later 
rigors  and  fevers,  with  the  accompanying 


718 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


extreme  exhaustion  and  incapacity  for 
food.  It  was  thought,  however,  that 
these  troubles  might  be  overcome,  and  no 
alarm  or  anxiety  was  excited  beyond  what 
the  case  had  oftentimes  created  from  the 
first.  Things  thus  continued  until  the 
nineteenth  of  September, — the  night,  as  it 
happened,  when  his  old  companion  in  arms, 
General  Swaim,  was  to  watch  with  him. 
He  had  been  with  the  sufferer  a  good  deal 
of  the  time  from  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. A  few  minutes  before  ten  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  he  left  Col.  Rockwell,  with 
whom  he  had  been  talking  for  some  min- 


utes in  the  lower  hall,  and  proceeded  up- 
stairs to  the  president's  room.  On  enter- 
ing, Gen.  Swaim  found  Mrs.  Garfield 
sitting  by  the  bedside.  There  were  no 
other  persons  in  the  room.  He  said  to 
her,  "  How  is  everything  going  ?  "  She 
replied,  "  He  is  sleeping  nicely."  He 
then  said,  "  I  think  you  would  better  go 
to  bed  and  rest,"  and  asked  her  what  had 
been  prescribed  for  him  to  take  during  the 
night.  She  replied  that  she  did  not  know ; 
that  she  had  given  him  milk  punch  at 
eight  o'clock.  The  general  then  said, 
"  If  you  will  wait  a  moment,  I  will  go 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PEESIDENT  GAEFIELD. 


719 


into  the  doctor's  room,  and  see  what  is  to 
be  given  during  the  night." 

"  There  is,"  Mrs.  Garfield  replied,  "  beef 
tea  down  stairs.  Daniel  knows  where  to 
get  it." 

"I  then  went," — General  Swaim  relates, 
— "into  the  doctor's  room.  I  found  Dr. 
Bliss  there,  and  asked  him  what  was  to  be 
given  during  the  night.  He  answered,  'I 
think  I  would  better  fix  up  a  list,  and  will 
bring  it  in  to  you  pretty  soon.'  I  then 
went  back  into  the  sick  room,  and  had 
some  little  conversation  with  Mrs.  Garfield. 
She  felt  the  president's  hand,  and  laid  her 
hand  on  his  forehead,  saying,  '  He  seems 
to  be  in  good  condition,'  and  passed  out 
of  the  room.  I  immediately  felt  his  hands, 
feet  and  knees.  I  thought  that  his  knees 
seemed  somewhat  coM,  and  got  a  flannel 
cloth,  heated  it  at  the  fire,  and  laid  it  over 
his  limbs.  I  also  heated  another  cloth,  and 
laid  it  over  his  right  hand,  and  then  sat 
down  in  a  chair  beside  his  bed.  I  was 
scarcely  seated,  when  Dr.  Boynton  came  in 
and  felt  the  president's  pulse.  I  asked 
him  how  it  seemed  to  him.  '  It  is  not  as 
strong  as  it  was  this  afternoon,  but  very 
good.'  I  said,  '  He  seems  to  be  doing 
well.'  '  Yes,'  he  answered,  and  passed 
out.  He  was  not  in  the  room  more  than 
two  minutes.  Shortly  after  this,  the  pres- 
ident awoke.  As  he  turned  his  head  on 
awaking,  I  rose,  and  took  hold  of  his 
hand.  I  was  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the 
bed,  as  he  la}7.  I  remarked,  '  You  have 
had  a  very  comfortable  sleep.'  He  said, 
'Oh,  Swaim;  this  terrible  pain,'  placing 
his  right  hand  on  his  breast,  over  the  region 
of  the  heart.  I  asked  him  if  I  could  do 
anything  for  him.  He  said,  '  Some  water.' 
I  went  to  the  other  side  of  the  room,  and 
poured  out  about  an  ounce  and  a  half  of 
Poland  water  into  a  glass,  and  gave  him  to 
drink ;  he  took  the  glass  in  his  hand,  I 
raising  his  head  as  usual,  and  he  drank  the 
water  very  naturally.  I  then  handed  the 
glass  to  the  colored  man,  Daniel,  who 
came  in  during  the  time  I  was  getting  the 
water.  Afterward  I  took  a  napkin,  and 
wiped  his  forehead,  as  he  usually  perspired 
on  awaking.  He  then  said,  '  Oh,  Swaim, 


this  terrible  pain  !  Press  your  hand  on 
it.'  I  laid  my  hand  on  his  chest.  He 
then  threw  both  hands  up  to  the  side  and 
about  on  a  line  with  his  head,  and  ex- 
claimed, '  Oh,  Swaim,  can't  you  stop  this  ? ' 
and  again,  '  Oh,  Swaim  ! ' ' 

It  was  at  this  stage,  says  General  Swaim, 
that  the  president  looked  at  him  with  a 
staring  expression.  "I  asked  him  if  he 
was  suffering  much  pain.  Receiving  no 
answer,  I  repeated  the  question,  with  like 
result.  I  then  concluded  that  he  was 
either  dying  or  was  having  a  severe  spasm, 
and  called  to  Daniel,  who  was  at  the  door, 
to  tell  Dr.  Bliss  and  Mrs.  Garfield  to  come 
in  immediately,  and  glanced  at  the  small 
clock  hanging  on  the  chandelier  nearly 
over  the  foot  of  his  bed,  and  saw  that  it 
was  ten  minutes  after  ten  o'clock.  Dr. 
Bliss  came  in  within  two  or  three  minutes. 
I  told  Daniel  to  bring  the  light — a 
lighted  candle  behind  a  screen  near  the 
door.  When  the  light  shone  full  on  his 
face,  I  f-aw  that  he  was  dying.  When  Dr, 
Bliss  came  in  a  moment  after,  I  said,  'Doc- 
tor, have  you  any  stimulant — he  seems  to 
be  dying.'  He  took  hold  of  his  wrist,  as 
if  feeling  for  the  pulse,  and  said,  '  Yes,  he 
is  dying!  '  I  then  said  to  Daniel,  '  Run, 
and  arouse  the  house.'  At  that  moment, 
Colonel  Rockwell  came  in,  when  Dr.  Bliss 
said,  'Let  us  rub  his  limbs,'  which  we 
did. 

In  a  very  few  moments,  Mrs.  Garfield 
came  in,  and  said,  '  What  does  this  mean  ?  ' 
and  a  moment  after  exclaimed,  '  Oh,  why 
ami  made  to  suffer  this  cruel  wrong  ! '  At 
half-past  ten,  in  the  evening,  he  breathed 
his  last,  calmly  and  peacefully." 

At  the  final  moment,  the  following  per- 
sons were  present:  Mrs.  Garfield  and 
her  daughter  Mollie,  Drs.  Bliss,  Agnew. 
and  Boynton,  General  Swaim,  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Rockwell,  J.  Stanley  Brown,  C.  0. 
Rockwell,  and  Daniel  Spriggs.  Dr.  Bliss 
acknowledged  that  the  president's  death 
was  a  complete  surprise  to  him.  Before  leav- 
ing his  patient,  to  write  out  the  directions 
of  the  night,  for  the  watchers,  the  doctor 
inquired  of  the  president  how  he  felt,  and 
the  reply  was  in  his  usual  cheerful  tone, 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GAKFIELD. 


721 


"Pretty  well."  On  reaching  the  room, 
after  General  Swaim's  summons,  Dr.  Bliss 
found  the  president  unconscious  ;  he  placed 
his  ear  over  the  region  of  the  heart  and 
could  only  detect  a  faint  flutter, — pulse  he 
had  none.  Some  hypodermic  injections  of 
brandy  were  given  in  the  region  of  the 
heart,  but  without  effect.  He  was  tying 
on  his  back,  with  his  head  thrown  back- 
wards, and  there  was  not  a  tremor  or  move- 
ment of  the  body. 

The  effort  with  which  Mrs.  Garfield 
controlled  her  feelings  was  seen  in  the 
fixed  lines  of  the  face,  as  she  arose  and 
went  from  the  room.  At  the  door  of  her 
chamber,  she  broke  quite  down  for  the 
first  time  ;  she  sobbed  aloud,  and  in  her 
first  burst  of  grief  shut  herself  alone  in 
her  chamber.  She  remained  thus  alone, 
for  perhaps  three  minutes,  and  what  new 
strength  she  got  in  brief  communion  with 
God,  was  seen  in  her  brave  and  resolute 
face,  as  she  came  back  to  the  bed  where 
her  dead  husband  lay.  The  doctors,  with 
womanly  gentleness,  had  closed  the  eye- 
lids and  composed  the  limbs.  Mrs.  Gar- 
field  sat  down  by  the  bed.  There  she  re- 
mained several  hours. 

The  tidings  of  the  president's  death  fell 
like  a  pall  on  the  land,  and,  in  sympathy 
and  grief,  the  whole  world  was  kin.  Rulers 
and  governments  from  the  farthermost 
parts  of  the  earth  made  haste  to  send 
messages  of  profoundest  sorrow.  A  sam- 
ple of  this  tender  friendship,  as  it  flowed 
in  upon  the  stricken  republic  from  distant 
realms,  was  the  following  from  Queen 
Victoria :  "  Would  you  express  my  sincere 
condolence  to  the  late  president's  mother 
and  inquire  after  her  health,  as  well  as  af- 
ter Mrs.  Garfield's.  I  should  be  thankful  if 
you  would  procure  me  a  good  photograph 
of  General  Garfield."  The  bells  of  the 
English  cathedrals  were  tolled,  the  Eng- 
lish court  went  into  mourning,  and  the 
Queen  directed  that  a  floral  wreath  be  pre- 
pared as  an  offering  from  her  own  hands 
for  the  funeral  bier.  Throughout  our  own 
country,  business  was  suspended;  the  courts 
adjourned  ;  the  theaters  were  closed  ;  the 

public  buildings,  the  dwellings  and  stores 
46 


were  draped  in  mourning  ;  the  bells  were 
tolled  ;  flags  hung  at  half-mast ;— lamenta- 
tion and  woe  were  on  every  hand. 

On  Wednesday  following,  the  remains, 
of  which  a  careful  autopsy  had  been  made, 
revealing  the  fact  that  •'  surgery  has  no 
resources  by  which  the  fatal  result  could 
have  been  averted,"  were  borne  out  from 
Francklyn  cottage,  to  begin  its  last  solemn 
journey.  Adorned  by  a  single  cross  of 
flowers,  the  casket  was  placed  in  the  car 
prepared  for  its  reception,  and,  surrounded 
by  a  military  and  naval  guard,  and  accom- 
panied by  the  bereaved  family  and  attend- 
ing friends,  the  train  departed  for  Wash- 
ington and  Cleveland.  The  entire  route 
was  lined,  as  it  were,  by  mourners  raising 
their  hats  and  maintaining  an  awed  silence. 
At  Ocean  Grove,  thousands  of  people 
watched  it  pass,  the  bells  tolling  solemnly 
meanwhile ;  at  Monmouth  Junction,  a 
delegation  of  students  from  Princeton 
College  met  the  train,  and,  on  its  reach- 
ing Princeton  Junction,  five  hundred  of 
the  young  men  stood  in  files  on  the  sides 
of  the  track,  which  had  been  strewn 
with  flowers ;  at  Wilmington,  Del.,  as 
many  as  ten  thousand  paid  their  tribute 
of  silent  respect;  and  so  on,  from  point  to 
point. 

At  Washington  four  entire  days  were 
devoted  to  grief  and  funeral  rites.  Na- 
tional homage  and  ceremonial  appeared  to 
center  here.  The  great  point  of  interest 
was  the  Rotunda  of  the  capitol,  where  the 
body  lay  in  state.  In  the  center  was  placed 
the  catafalque,  about  three  feet  above  the 
floer.  It  is  the  same  one  that  held  the 
casket  encasing  the  remains  of  Abraham 
Lincoln.  Its  lower  platform  was  covered 
with  perfectly  black  Brussels  carpet,  and 
the  trimmings  were  of  heavy  black  corded 
silk,  silk  fringe  and  tassels,  silver  moldings, 
etc.  Of  the  floral  decorations  of  the  cata- 
falque, most  noticeable  was  a  broken  column 
of  Marshal  Neil  white  roses,  about  three 
feet  high,  surmounted  by  a  white  dove 
with  wings  outspread  ;  next  came  a  beaute- 
ous design,  representing  the  Gates  Ajar, 
the  columns  being  of  similar  white  roses, 
'  the  bars  of  the  gate  of  variegated  white 


722 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GAKFIELD. 


UODV   LYING   IN   STATE  IX  THE    CAPITOL   HOTl'JfDA. 

ana  green,  and  the  gate  posts  surmounted 
by  globes  of  immortelles.  Next  to  this 
was  a  crown  of  white  rose-buds,  the  points 
being  tipped  with  fern.  Beyond  this  was 
a  bank  of  white  flowers,  from  which  sprang 
a  column,  and  on  this  perched  a  white 
dove;  the  words,  "Our  martyred  Presi- 
dent," appeared  in  green,  upon  the  white 
bank.  At  each  end  of  the  floral  display 
was  a  wreath  of  ivy  leaves  lying  on  the 
floor.  But  conspicuous  above  all,  was  the 
massive  and  magnificent  wreath,  composed 
of  white  roses,  smilax  and  stephanotis, — 
the  most  beautiful  ever  seen  in  Washing- 


ton,— from  the  queen  of  England.  The 
interior  of  the  rotunda  was  hung  in  black, 
I  and  both  rotunda  and  dome  were  lustrously 
illuminated.  Tens  of  thousands  thronged 
the  eapitol,  day  and  night,  to  view  the  face 
of  the  beloved  president.  This  was  only 
interrupted  by  the  announcement  of  Mrs. 
Garfield's  coming  to  take  her  final  look 
of  the  precious  countenance.  All  sounds 
were  instantly  hushed,  every  one  withdrew, 
and  then  the  stricken  widow— her  slight 
form  wrapped  in  deepest  mourning,  and 
leaving  her  attendants  at  the  door — ad- 
vanced alone  to  take  her  last  and  tearful 
farewell  look  ;  and  here,  in  the  solitude 
and  sacredne^s  of  her  grief,  she  remained 
some  fifteen  minutes. 

Simple,  like  the  religious  services  before 
the  departure  from  Elberon,  and  in  keeping 
with  the  Christian  simplicity  of  character 
which  always  distinguished  Mr.  Garfield, 
were  the  funeral  exercises  in  the  eapitol. 
Rev  Mr.  Power,  the  late  president's  pastor, 
officiated.  The  Philharmonic  Society  of 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


723 


Washington  rendered  some  impressive 
selections,  including  the  anthem,  "  To 
Thee,  O  Lord,  I  yield  my  Spirit ;"  praj-er 
and  eulogy  followed  ;  and  the  remains 
were  then  conducted  to  the  hearse.  An 
immense  funeral  escort,  of  surpassing  mag- 
nificence and  solemnity,  accompanied  the 
funeral  car  to  the  train  which  was  to 
convey  the  same  and  the  mourning  party 
to  Cleveland,  —  the  car  containing  the 
body  being  open  at  the  side,  so  as  to 
admit  of  the  casket  being  seen  along  the 
journey. 

On  Saturday  morning  the  train  was  met 
at  the  Ohio  state  line  by  the  governor  and 
other  officials,  including  the  city  govern- 
ment of  Cleveland ;  in  which  city,  on 
Monday,  Sept.  26th,  the  mortal  part  of 
the  dead  president  was  to  be  consigned  to 
its  last  resting-place, — a  day  which  was 
also  observed,  in  accordance  with  appoint- 
ment by  President  Arthur  and  by  many 
of  the  governors  of  the  States,  as  a  day  of 
humiliation  and  prayer.  The  day  was 
indeed  one  of  stillness  and  worship  and 
funereal  observance  from  one  end  of  the 
land  to  the  other.  Abroad,  too,  the  occa- 
sion was  seriously  commemorated.  In 
London,  stores  were  closed  and  buildings 
draped  ;  the  fleet  of  vessels  in  the  Thames 
displayed  its  flags  at  half  mast ;  the  royal 
palaces  indicated  bereavemnnt ;  portraits 
of  President  Garfield  hung  in  black 
abounded ;  funeral  dirges  were  played  at 
St.  James'  palace  ;  devotional  services  were 
held  in  Westminster  Abbey  and  other 
churches  j  and  the  tolling  of  bells  was 
universal.  In  Paris,  Berlin.  Geneva,  Mad- 
rid, Constantinople,  Cairo,  and  even  in 
India,  there  was  observance  of  the  day  and 
avent  of  America's  woe. 

The  city  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  embraces 
the  beautiful  Lake  View  Cemetery — a  few 
miles  from  the  president's  former  home — 
in  which,  in  accordance  with  his  expressed 
wish,  he  was  to  be  buried.  Here,  a  special 
pavilion  was  constructed  for  the  reception 
of  the  coffin,  forty-four  feet  square  at  the 
base,  and  spanned  by  arches  thirty-six  feet 
high  and  twenty-four  feet  wide  ;  the  inte- 
rior was  beautified  with  rare  plants  and 


flowers.  Here  rested  the  catafalque,  stand- 
ing with  its  four  open  arches  and  sur- 
mounted by  its  massive  golden  ball,  with  a 
cannon  resting  on  each  of  its  four  corners, 
heavily  draped  in  black  ;  large,  black  flags 
drooped  from  each  side  immediately  be- 
neath the  cornice,  and  still  lower  fell  the 
national  colors,  with  streamers  of  crape 
alternating  with  the  bars  of  red  and  white  ; 
an  elegant  shield,  several  feet  in  length, 
composed  of  swords,  had  a  conspicuous 
place  on  the  octagonal  faces  of  the  four 
sides,  and,  half  circling  the  arches,  were 
choice  ferns  upon  a  white  background- 
arranged  in  triangular  shape,  also  a  heavy 
gold  lining  running  around  the  pillars,  the 
interior  was  draped  in  plain  and  appropri- 
ate bands  of  rich  black  goods. 

On  this  memorable  Monday,  the  weather 
broke  calm  and  delightful,  and  the  great 
lake,  beside  which  Cleveland  rests,  lay 
placid  and  beautiful.  At  an  early  hour  the 
whole  city  was  in  motion,  everybody  mov- 
ing towards  the  park,  where  the  procession 
was  to  form  and  the  funeral  ceremonies 
take  place.  Multitudes  poured  in  from 
every  section,  and  by  ten  o'clock  200,000 
people  had  gathered  around  the  square. 
At  the  time  appointed,  the  dignitaries  of 
the  government,  including  every  depart- 
ment, civil  and  military,  marched  upon  the 
platform,  each  wearing  a  •  heavy  black 
mourning  scarf,  with  black  and  white 
rosettes  upon  the  breast,  the  whole  com- 
posing the  Guard  of  Honor,  headed  by 
General  Sherman. 

In  due  time,  the  bereaved  family  were 
driven  to  the  pavilion.  Among  the  first 
to  alight  was  the  venerable  mother  of  the 
martyred  chieftain, — the  poor,  wasted  form 
of  the  dear  woman  being  helped  from  her 
carriage,  and  conducted  slowly  up  the  in- 
cline that  led  to  the  princely  bier  upon 
which  rested  the  form  of  her  idolized  son. 
Unmindful  of  surrounding  objects,  and 
with  her  whole  mind  engrossed  in  grief, 
she  sat  down  in  silence  in  the  seat  provided 
for  her  ;  but  her  pent-up  feelings  could  not 
be  repressed,  and  she  shortly  moved  over 
to  the  coffin,  and,  leaning  upon  it,  laid  her 
I  cheek  upon  the  cover,  her  lips  moving  in 


724 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


silent  prayer,  and  the  tears  coursing  adown 
her  wrinkled  and  weary-worn  face.  Others 
wept  in  sympathy,  and  she  was  tenderly 
led  back  to  her  seat. 

Scripture  reading,  prayers,  a  eulogj'  by 
Rev.  Dr.  Errett,  and  solemn  music,  made 
up    the    funeral    ceremonies,    one    of    the 
hymns  sung  being  the  president's  favorite, 
commencing  with  the  words.  "  Ho,  reapers 
of  life's  harvest !  "     The  casket  was  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  ten   United  States  ar- 
tillerymen from  the  pavilion  to  the  funeral 
car,  and.  leaving  the  park,  the  grand  pro- 
cession   passed   out   Superior    street   and 
Euclid  avenue,  to  the  entrance  of  the  cem- 
etery.    The  sidewalks  were  crowded  with 
people,  and  refreshment*  were  freely  dis- 
tributed by  the  citizens  to   the  civil  and 
military  visitors.      When  the  head  of  the 
column    reached    the    black   arch    which 
fronted    the    cemetery,    the    ranks 
opened,   and  the  body  of  the  dead  presi- 
dent, borne   upon  the  funeral  car,  passe< 
in  between  the    long   ranks    of   civilians 
and  soldiers.     Upon  the  piers 
of  the  arch  were,  the  inscrip- 
tions—  "Lay    him  to    sleep 
whom    we    have    learned   to 
love,"  —  "  Lay   him  to  sleep 
whom   we    have    learned    to 
trust,"  —  "  Come    to     rest '' 


I  The    coffin    was    wrapped    in    triple    fo'ds 

|  of  fine  crape  and  a  huge  flag,  and  those 

specially    deputed     to    walk    beside    the 

hearse   wore   white   helmets   and    carried 

drawn    swords.     The  procession  was  two 


VIEWING   THE    REMAINS   AT   rLEVELAN'D,   OHIO. 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GARFIELD. 


725 


and   one-half   hours    in   passing   a   given 
point. 

At  the  receiving  vault  there  was  a  cata- 
falque placed  in  the  center,  and  draped 
flags  were  hung  at  each  side  At  the  head 
was  suspended  a  superb  wreath  sent  to 
Mrs.  Garfield  by  the  ladies  of  Dubuque, 
and  another  sent  at  the  instance  of  the 
emperor  of  Brazil ;  the  floor  was  covered 
with  sprays  of  evergreen,  upon  which  were 
strewn  flowers  in  great  profusion.  Out- 


or  two  later  Harry  and  James  got  out. 
Neither  Mrs.  Garfield  nor  the  president's 
mother  left  the  carriage,  but  both  of  them 
threw  back  their  veils,  and  gazed  long  at 
the  sight  within  the  vault.  General  Swaim, 
Colonel  Corbin  and  Colonel  Rockwell,  and 
a  few  others  of  the  close  family  friends, 
left  their  seats,  and  ex-president  Hayes, 
Mr.  Evarts  and  Secretaries  Elaine  and 
Windom,  were  near  the  tomb.  As  the 
coffin  was  placed  on  the  catafalque  in  the 


RECEIVING    VAULT. 


side,  a  carpet  had  been  laid  to  the  carriage 
way,  which  was  covered  with  a  black  can- 
opy ;  this  carpet  was  also  strewn  with 
flowers,  while  around  were  scattered  im- 
mortelles and  other  flowers. 

It  was  about  half  past  three  o'clock 
when  the  funeral  car  came  down  to  the 
south  of  the  vault,  and  was  halted  just  be- 
yond it.  Mrs.  Garfield's  carriage  stopped 
just  in  front  of  the  vault,  and  a  moment 


vault,  the  marine  band  played  the  familiar 
strains  of  "Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee." 
The  closing  services  were  then  performed, 
consisting  of  music  by  the  marine  band, 
an  address  by  Rev.  Dr.  Jones,  chaplain  of 
the  president's  old  regiment,  singing  by 
one  of  the  musical  societii-s,  and  benedic- 
tion by  Eev.  Dr.  Hinsdale.  Secretary 
Blaine  and  the  president's  sons  entered  the 
vault.  Other  prominent  persons  crowded 


726 


ASSASSINATION  OF  PRESIDENT  GATCFIELD. 


LAKE   VIEW  CEMETERV. 


forward  to  gather  the  scattered  flowers  as 
mementos,  and  before  the  procession  left 
all  the  flowers  beneath  the  canopy  had  been 
secured.  The  family  carriages  then  started 
in  return,  followed  by  the  .other  vehicles 
containing  th«  Cabinet  and  the  Guard  of 
Honor. 

Of  the  cemetery,  it  may  be  said  that  few 
locations  of  the  kind  surpass  this  in  im- 
pressive beauty.  The  driveway  from  the 
entrance  to  the  tomb  in  which  President 
Garfield's  remains  were  deposited,  until  the 
erection  of  the  monument,  is  very  broad, 
and,  directly  opposite  the  tomb,  the  main 


avenue  leading  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the 
grounds  begins,  crossing  soon  a  lovely  lake, 
on  the  other  side  of  which  the  road  rises 
gradually  to  the  crest  of  a  ridge  quite 
elevated  above  the  lake.  From  this  ridge 
a  bald,  rounded  spur  juts  out  toward  the 
lake,  on  the  right.  The  top  of  this  spur  is 
irregular  shaped,  and  flat,  with  a  narrow 
path  all  around.  This  is  the  spot — long 
reserved  as  the  most  beautiful  in  thr  whole 
grounds — presented  by  the  trustees  of  the 
cemetery  to  Mrs.  Garfield,  as  the  burial 
place  for  her  husband,  and  accepted  by  her 
for  that  purpose. 


WREATH   PRESENTED  BY   Ql'KKN    VICTORIA. 


LXXXV. 

ANARCHY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES— IN  FULL  FORCE,  AND 

WITH  BLOODY  WEAPONS.— MEETS  ITS  DOOM  IN 

THE  COURTS  AND  ON  THE   SCAFFOLD 

IN  CHICAGO.— 1886-87. 


Anarchy. — Its  Avowed  Principles  and  Aims. — It  Struggles  Against  Law  and  Order  in  Chicago,  111.,  and 
Milwaukee,  Wis.,  and,  for  the  First  Time  in  the  Western  World,  Tests  the  Strength  of  Republican 
Institutions. — Transplanting  the  Social  Disease  from  Europe  to  America. — Foreign  Agitators  Seek  a 
Congenial  Field  in  "  Freedom's  Land." — Their  Theories,  Aims,  and  Methods. — Anti-Government 
Principles  Loudly  Proclaimed. — Destruction  of  the  State,  Church,  and  Society. — Defiance  of  all  Legal 
Restraint. — Red-handed  Schemes  and  Plottings. — Dynamite  and  Violence  to  be  Employed. — How  and 
Where  the  Bombs  Were  Made. — Murderous  Appeals  to  Workingmen. — Fatal  Scene  of  Conflict  Pre- 
cipitated.— Dynamite  Bombs  Thrown  Into  the  Police  Ranks. — Their  Heroic  Fidelity  to  Duty. — Day 
and  Night  of  Blood  and  Terror. —  Horror  and  Indignation  Throughout  the  Country. — Harvest  of 
Death  and  Mutilation. — Arrest  of  Some  of  the  Most  Noted  Leaders — Their  Conviction  After  a  Two 
Months'  Trial. — Incidents  Stated  by  Mr.  Reid,  a  Deputy-Sheriff. — Vindication  of  Law  and  Justice. — 
Justice  of  the  Sentence  Questioned  by  Some. — Life  Imprisonment  Urged. — Executions  Amidst  a 
Tumultuous  Throng. 

•'  AHARCHT:  A  htute  of  society  where  there  if  no  law  or  supreme  power,  and  individuals  do  what  they  please  with  impunity."—  WEBSTEB'S 

DlCTZONAKT. 

"  Hurrah  for  Anarchy!"—  ANARCHIST  SHOOT  FROM  THE  SCAFFOLD. 


T  is  almost  unnecessary,  perhaps,  to  say  here,  that  the  broad 
freedom  of  opinion — and  of  speech  as  well — secured  by  the 
constitution  of  the  United  States  to  every  citizen  thereof, 
confirmed  and  guaranteed,  too,  by  the  various  States  of  the 
Union,  constitutes  a  political  feature  in  the  American  re- 
public, well  nigh  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  nations. 
Nevertheless,  the  statutes  against  lawlessness  and  violence 
of  public  speech,  enacted  in  the  interests  of  the  common 
peace  and  tranquillity,  and  which  of  course  give  to  citizen- 
ship, in  any  land,  its  chief  value,  have  failed  at  times  to 
control  portions  of  the  populace  centering  in  some  of  the 
larger  cities.  In  these  instances,  the  defiant  element  has 
consisted  mainly,  though  not  exclusively,  of  people  native  to 
other  countries,  and  of  naturally  anti-monarchical  politics, 
widening  and  degenerating  into  anti-government  theories  of 
the  most  revolutionary  and  destructive  character — in  other 

words,  ANARCHY  transplanted  from  the  old  world  to  the  new,  and  insanely  demanding 
the  abrogation  of  all  government,  and  of  all  social  institutions,  as  now  existing  and 
regulated  by  law. 


728 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


729 


It  was  iii  Chicago, — owing,  it  was  flatly 
charged,  to  the  encouragement  afforded 
by  a  municipal  government  notoriously  free 
from  all  the  restraints  of  a  wise  adminis- 
tration, and  to  the  freedom  with  which 
criminals  of  a  certain  political  hue  were 
allowed  to  escape  their  just  deserts, — 
that  the  most  turbulent  and  deadly 
anarchistic,  communistic,  and  socialistic 
elements  had  for  a  long  time  seethed 
and  plotted,  culminating  at  last  in  a 
fruitage  and  harvest  of  horrors  that 
shocked  the  civilized  world.  It  was  the 
legitimate  outcome  of  the  teachings  of 
Johann  Most,  Louise  Michel,  Rochefort, 
and  other  extreme  doctrinaires  of  the 
modern  school  of  social  destructionists. 
According  to  these  teachings,  as  promul- 
gated over  and  over  again,  from  the  ros- 
trum and  through  the  press,  the  favoring 
circumstances  by  which  anarchy  was  to  be 
realized  were  thus  outlined: — "The  panic 
comes,  the  public  are  excited,  outbreaks 
occur,  the  large  centers  revolt ;  and,  the 
places  where  but  few  destructionists  re- 
side being  thus  made  points  for  rallying 
on  the  part  of  the  conservative  element  of 
society,  the  work  devolving  on  those  of 
the  order  who  belong  to  such  localities  is, 
by  secret  methods,  and  with  all  the  aid  of 
science  in  destructive  warfare,  to  create 
sufficient  turmoil  to  keep  the  conservatives 
at  home.  Meanwhile,  in  the  large  cen- 
ters, measures  the  boldest  and  most  active 
are  to  be  pursued — the  revolutionists  head- 
ing, leading,  and  controlling  the  outbreak, 
seizing  the  places  of  power,  and  laying 
hands  on  the  machinery 'of  government. 
Once  installed  in  control,  the  decrees  carry- 
ing out  the  new  condition  of  things  are  to 
be  promulgated  and  vigorously  enforced." 

Among  the  most  zealous  and  unscru- 
pulous propagandists  of  these  theories, 
in  America,  Johann  Most  and  August 
Spies  early  became  conspicuous.  The  first 
named,  a  German  by  birth,  and  gifted 
with  a  certain  fluency  of  speech,  in  time 
deserted  labor  for  politics,  and,  when 
about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  succeeded  in 
being  elected  a  inember  of  the  German 
Reichstag,  or  parliament,  by  the  social- 


istic party,  then  and  there  so  active. 
While  in  this  position,  he  distinguished 
himself  by  eccentric  extravagance,  the  re- 
sult of  which  was,  after  an  exciting  con- 
test, his  expulsion  from  that  body.  He 
then  removed  to  London,  and  established 
the  Freiheit  (freedom)  newspaper,  which 
was  smuggled  in  large  quantities  into 
Germany,  and  distributed  in  socialistic 
quarters.  In  one  of  the  issues  of  this 
sheet,  an  article  rejoicing  over  the  assassi- 
nation of  the  Czar  of  Russia  in  March, 
1881,  caused  his  arrest  in  England,  by 
the  English  government,  although  that 
country  had  been  regarded  as  a  safe  field 
for  free  speech  by  Continental  assassins. 
Being  found  guilty  of  a  crime,  he  was 
imprisoned,  and,  at  the  expiration  of  his 
term,  came  to  the  United  States,  and  here 
advocated,  in  New  York,  by  speech  and 
pen,  the  practices  of  murder  and  arson. 
The  career  of  Spies  and  some  of  his  con- 
federates will  appear  further  on. 

It  was  in  Chicago,  as  already  remarked, 
that  the  most  turbulent  and  deadly  anarch- 
istic, communistic,  and  socialistic  elements 
had  for  a  long  time  seethed  and  plotted; 
here  was  to  be  the  field  of  its  most  bloody 
conspiracy  and  enactments,  and  here  it 
was  to  be  visited  by  the  stern  hand  of 
justice  with  the  weightiest  retributive 
blow.  In  the  early  part  of  May,  1886, 
some  twenty  thousand  men  were  idle,  in 
that  city,  on  account  of  the  agitation  of 
the  eight-hour  labor  rule,  and,  during  this 
period  of  violent  unrest,  the  anarchists 
resorted  to  dynamite,  as  an  argument,  for 
the  first  time  in  the  United  States. 

On  the  evening  of  May  fourth,  a  meet- 
ing of  the  most  excited  and  tumultuous 
class  was  called,  by  means  of  an  incendiary 
handbill,  at  a  point  in  Desplaines  street,  to 
listen  to  speeches  about  the  labor  troubles 
and  a  fight  that  had  taken  place  between 
the  police  and  a  company  of  strikers. 
The  speakers  were  August  Spies,  of  the 
daily  anarchist  paper,  the  Arbeiter  Zei- 
tung.  and  his  fellows,  Sam  Fielden  and  A. 
R.  Parsons,  the  most  notorious  preachers 
of  the  doctrine  of  destruction.  When 
Parsons  had  wrought  the  crowd  to  des- 


730 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


p  iration,  aad  exclaimed,  "  To  arms !  to 
arms  !  "  the  force  of  oue  hundred  and  fifty 
policemen,  who  were  in  readiness  at  a 
neighboring  station,  was  ordered  out  to 
disperse  the  excited  crowd.  When  they 
reached  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  Fielden 
was  raising  the  passions  of  the  vast  throng 
to  the  highest  pitch. 

And  now  the  officer  in  command  of  the 
police  advanced  to  the  wagon  which  was 
used  as  a  rostrum,  and  ordered  the  crowd 
to  disperse.  He  had  hardly  given  the 
word,  when  a  spluttering  fuse  was  seen 
flying  through  the  air  toward  the  police- 
men. It  was  a  dynamite  bomb,  which 
was  well  aimed,  and  fell  directly  in  the 
middle  of  the  street,  between  two  double 
columns  of  the  police,  exploding  as  soon 
as  it  struck  the  ground.  The  policemen 
were  for  a  moment  thrown  into  confusion. 
The  orator  closed  his  harangue  abruptly, 
and  the  throng  assembled  in  a  menacing 
attitude  before  the  body  of  police.  The 
bomb  had  killed  and  wounded  about  thirty 
men,  and  the  anarchists  in  front  and  on 
either  side  opened  fire  directly  on  the 
policemen  who  had  escaped  the  bomb. 
The  men  quickly  recovered  themselves, 
and  returned  the  fire,  until  the  crowd  fled, 
many  persons  being  knocked  down  and 
trampled  upon,  during  the  flight.  After 
this,  the  work  of  taking  away  the  bodies 
of  the  killed,  and  of  removing  the  wounded, 
was  begun.  On  the  next  day,  there  were 
scores  of  patients  in  the  county  hospital, 
who  were  injured  by  the  bomb  or  in  the 
battle  that  followed  the  explosion.  The 
scenes  were  heartrending.  Fortunately, 
the  discipline  and  courage  of  the  police 
prevented  a  general  overthrow  of  the 
authorities  and  the  complete  capture  of 
the  city  by  outlaws. 

That  the  municipal  officials,  or  those  in 
high  political  places,  were  largely  respon- 
sible for  any  tragedy  that  might  follow 
the  long  existing  social  antagonisms  and 
public  excitement,  was  unhesitatingly 
charged,  permits  having  been  freely 
granted — with  a  full  knowledge  of  their 
legitimate  outcome — for  the  Sunday  as- 
sembling of  anarchists  and  their  associates 


in  the  Lake  Front  Park.  Here  it  was 
that  the  most  inflammatory  appeals  were 
made  and  reiterated,  and  the  wildest  pas- 
sions of  the  surging  throng  stirred  to 
frenzy,  and  all  this  under  the  cognizance 
of  the  so  called  guardians  of  the  public 
peace. 

For  the  conception  of  and  participation 
in  this  monstrous  crime — the  murders 
caused  by  the  explosion  of  the  dynamite 
bomb — arrests  were  forthwith  made,  in- 
cluding such  notorious  men  as  August 
Spies,  Samuel  Fielden,  Michael  Schwab, 
Chris  Spies,  A.  R.  Parsons,  George  Engel, 
Adolph  Fischer,  0.  W.  Neebe,  and  Louis 
Lingg.  The  Arbeiter  Zeitung.  the  organ 
of  the  anarchists,  was  suppressed,  and  the 
anarchist  haunts  in  the  city  were  searched. 
In  a  cupboard  in  the  office  of  Spies's  paper, 
the  Arbeiter  Zeitung,  four  or  five  pounds 
of  dynamite  were  found,  of  such  strength 
that,  when  it  was  exploded  at  the  lake 
front,  it  shook  the  ground  several  hundred 
yards  away ;  in  the  editorial  desk  were 
also  found  two  bombs  with  fuses  attached. 

August  Spies,  a  native  of  Germany,  went 
to  Chicago  in  his  youth,  and,  though  hav- 
ing but  little  schooling,  was  always  a  stu- 
dent after  his  own  fashion  ;  at  twenty,  he 
had  learned  and  discarded  the  trade  of  sad- 
dler, and  tramped  for  some  time  through 
the  West  and  South  ;  at  twenty -four,  he 
returned  to  Chicago,  assumed  the  role  of  a 
politician,  and,  as  a  leader  of  the  socialists, 
delivered  many  speeches,  and  built  up  that 
party  so  that  more  than  ten  thousand  votes 
were  cast  for  its  mayoralty  candidate,  Dr. 
Schmidt.  There  was  no  really  anarchistic 
party  then,  and  Spies  became  manager  of 
the  Arbeiter  Zeitung,  the  organ  of  the 
socialists,  which  had  a  large  circulation 
and  much  influence  with  the  working- 
men  ;  this  paper,  Spies  gradually  molded 
into  an  anarchistic  sheet,  and  from  its 
type  was  struck.  May  4,  1886,  the  memor- 
able circular,  "  Revenge  !  Workinymen,  to 
Arms  !  "  which  was  sent  broadcast  among 
the  socialistic  and  anarchistic  groups  in 
the  city. 

Michael  Schwab,  also  a  German  by  birth, 
was  Spies's  assistant  editor,  and  at  least  as 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


731 


AUGUST  SPIES 


CHICAGO  AKABCHIST8. 


732 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


violent.  Born  in  1853,  he  was  an  orphan 
at  the  age  of  twelve,  received  good  school- 
ing, learned  bookbinding,  and  plunged  into 
socialism,  emigrating  to  Chicago  in  1879. 

Fischer  was  a  compositor  and  writer  on 
the  party's  organ,  and  an  ardent  anarchist. 
Born  in  Bremen,  he  came  to  this  country 
at  the  age  of  fifteen,  learned  printing  at 
his  brother's  office  in  the  West,  and  be- 
came a  most  active  worker  in  the  cause. 

Parsons,  born  at  Montgomery,  Alabama, 
in  1848,  was  brought  up  in  Texas,  by  his 
brother,  afterward  General  Parsons,  of 
the  Confederate  army;  he  himself  enlisted 
in  that  army  when  only  thirteen  years 
old,  and  served  through  the  war,  after 
which  he  edited  a  weekly  paper  in  Waco. 
Removing  to  Chicago  in  1873,  he  became 
interested  in  the  labor  party,  then  in 
1876  was  editor  of  The  Socialist,  and 
finally  edited  The  Alarm  from  1884  until 
its  suppression  in  1886.  It  was  in  the 
columns  of  this  paper  that  he  gave  direc- 
tions for  the  manufacture  of  explosives 
and  how  to  throw  bombs,  and  advocated 
the  destruction  of  society.  He  was  at  one 
time  a  scout  in  Texas,  and  was  a  "  dead 
shot." 

Lingg  was  of  German  birth,  and  was 
not  only  the  youngest  member  of  the 
fraternity,  but  had  been  in  America  only 
about  a  year  or  so.  He  had  been  an 
ardent  anarchist  in  Europe,  and  dynamite 
bombs  were  found  in  his  room. 

Engel,  born  in  Cassel,  Germany,  came 
to  America  in  1873.  His  father  died 
when  he  was  less  than  two  years  old,  and 
his  mother  when  he  was  but  ten.  He 
became  a  socialist  of  the  extreme  type, 
and  was  business  manager  of  Spies's 
paper. 

Fielden's  birthplace  was  in  England, 
and  he  was  the  son  of  a  weaver,  he  himself 
working  in  a  cotton  mill  from  his  ninth 
year  until  he  reached  his  majority.  He 
joined  the  Wesleyan  Methodist  Church, 
and  was  a  Sunday-school  superintendent 
when  but  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  after- 
wards a  preacher.  He  came  to  America 
in  1866,  lived  three  years  in  Cleveland, 
and  moved  to  Chicago  in  1869. 


Within  only  a  day  after  the  fatal  riot, 
nearly  thirty  thousand  dollars  had  been 
contributed  by  citizens  of  Chicago,  and 
several  checks  for  large  amounts  were  sent 
from  other  places,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
wounded  policemen  and  of  the  families  of 
those  who  were  killed.  Throughout  the 
whole  land,  indeed,  profound  sympathy 
was  expressed  for  those  who  were  thus 
made  victims  of  the  red-handed  anarchists, 
mingled  with  admiration  of  the  heroic 
fidelity  to  duty  which  characterized  the 
police  force  under  circumstances  so  terrible 
and  unexpected,  and  this  state  of  public 
feeling  became  immeasurably  intensified 
when,  on  the  following  day,  the  same 
struggle,  substantially,  was  enr.cted  in 
Milwaukee,  between  the  Polish  labor  agi- 
tators and  the  militia.  The  mills,  which 
these  socialists  had  threatened  boldly  to 
storm,  were  guarded  by  four  companies  of 
militia,  duly  called  out  by  the  authorities. 
The  mob,  early  on  the  fifth  of  May, 
marched  with  a  red  flag  toward  the  mills, 
uttering  threats  to  demolish  them.  The 
commanding  officer  ordered  them  to  retire, 
but  they  continued  to  advance,  and  the 
militia  fired  into  the  crowd  with  deadly 
aim  and  effect.  The  flag  bearer  was  struck 
by  several  bullets  and  mortally  wounded, 
several  others  were  killed,  and  a  large 
number  injured.  General  Rusk,  governor 
of  the  state,  not  only  employed  the  mili- 
tary in  the  promptest  manner,  but  he  gave 
this  answer  to  a  Polish  alderman  of  Mil- 
waukee, who  protested  against  the  killing 
of  his  countrymen  by  the  soldiers  : — 

"You  go  back,  and  tell  your  country- 
men that  we  shall  insist  upon  their  re- 
maining quietly  at  home,  or  going  to 
work  ;  and  that  I  will  stop  their  assem- 
bling in  crowds  for  purposes  of  riot,  if  I 
have  to  call  every  able-bodied  man  in  the 
state  into  military  service  to  do  it." 

In  pursuance  of  an  indictment  by  the 
grand  jury  of  Cook  county,  Illinois,  against 
the  Chicago  anarchists,  their  trial  for  mur- 
der took  place  in  that  city,  commencing 
June  21st,  the  eight  persons  previously 
named — Neebe,  Spies,  Fischer,  Engel, 
Parsons,  Fielden,  Schwab,  and  Lingg — 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


733 


being  arraigned  on  that  higli  charge,  the 
trial  lasting  many  weeks.  Though  the 
man  who  actually  threw  the  bomb  failed 
to  be  legally  identified,  the  theory  of  the 
prosecution  made  the  attack  on  the  police 
part  of  a  conspiracy  formed  the  night  be- 
fore, the  appeal,  "  Workingmen,  arm  your- 
selves, and  appear  in  full  force,"  showing 
the  murderous  purpose  ;  evidence  of  what 
had  been  said,  of  like  tenor,  in  the  anar- 
chist newspapers  with  which  the  accused 
had  been  connected,  or  in  their  public 
speeches  in  favor  of  exterminating  the 
police,  was  urged  against  them 

Among  the  witnesses  for  the  prosecu- 
tion was  a  well  known  anarchist,  who, 
turning  state's  evidence,  declared  that  he 
had  belonged  to  an  armed  body  of  anarch- 
ists, and  described  in  detail  the  prepara- 
tions that  had  been  made  by  the  leaders — 
the  defendants  on  trial — for  the  capture  of 
the  city,  the  disabling  of  the  fire  depart- 
ment, as  well  as  the  police,  being  contem- 
plated ;  at  one  meeting,  it  was  decided 
that  they  would  kill  everybody  that 
opposed  them — it  being  also  proposed,  at 
the  same  meeting,  that  anarchists  should 
mingle  with  the  crowds  in  the  streets  of 
the  city,  and  kill  everybody,  right  and 
left,  thus  inaugurating,  through  terror  and 
blood,  the  supremacy  of  anarchy.  This 
evidence  was  scarcely  sustained. 

An  entire  day  in  this  trial  was  devoted 
to  the  testimony  of  William  Seliger,  car- 
penter, in  whose  house  dynamite  bombs 
were  manufactured  under  the  supervision 
of  Louis  Lingg.  This  witness  was  an 
anarchist,  a  member  of  the  socialist  order, 
and  recording  secretary  of  the  Carpenter's 
Union.  His  revelations  were  startling  to 
every  one,  and  the  anxiety  of  the  prison- 
ers was  plainly  depicted  in  their  faces. 
Seliger's  statement  was  to  the  effect  that 
on  the  fourth  of  May  he  was  up  early,  and 
had  previously  told  Lingg  he  wanted  those 
bombs  removed  from  his  dwelling,  being 
told  in  reply  to  work  diligently  at  them, 
and  that  they  would  be  taken  away  that 
day.  Witness  worked  at  some  bad  shells, 
drilling  the  holes,  a  job  of  about  half  an 
hour,  Lingg  returning  from  a  meeting  on 


the  West  Side  about  one  o'clock,  and  tell- 
ing witness  he  did  not  work  very  much, — 
that  he  ought  to  have  done  more, — to 
which  reply  was  made  that  there  was  no 
pleasure  in  such  work.  Lingg  said,  "We 
will  have  to  work  harder  this  afternoon," 
and  told  him  to  go  to  a  place  on  Clyborne 
avenue,  to  get  some  bolts  to  put  into  the 
shells ;  he  got  about  fifty  bolts,  and  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  several  men  worked 
with  him,  Lingg  himself  working  on  gas 
pipes,  putting  in  tubes,  and  about  forty 
bombs  were  made  in  all.  As  exhibited  to 
the  court,  these  were  wrought  iron  tubes, 
about  two  inches  in  diameter  and  six 
inches  long.  Lingg  cast  the  round  bombs 
once,  alone,  in  the  rear  room  of  witness's 
store,  some  six  weeks  before  May  first, 
Lingg  remarking  that  every  workingman 
should  have  dynamite  and  learn  to  use 
it — that  there  was  going  to  be  an  "  agita- 
tion,"— that  the  bombs  would  be  good 
"fodder"  for  the  capitalists  and  for  the 
police  who  might  undertake  to  protect 
them, — that  the  bombs  ought  to  be  com- 
pleted that  evening,  as  they  were  to  be 
used  that  night. 

On  the  above  witness  leaving  the  house, 
in  the  evening,  Lingg  accompanied  him, 
and  they  carried  a  little  trunk  containing 
the  bombs,  these  being  all  loaded  with 
dynamite  and  having  caps  fixed  on  them. 
While  they  were  carrying  them,  they  met 
one  Metzenberg,  and  the  three  conveyed 
the  trunk  to  Neff's  Hall,  Clyborne  ave- 
nue, being  taken  in  through  a  side  door 
and  into  a  hallway ;  the  trunk  was  opened, 
several  persons  coming  to  look  at  the  con- 
tents, and  two  or  three  taking  bombs, 
witness  himself  putting  two  into  his  pock- 
ets, and  the  rest  were  left  in  the  passage- 
way. This  hall  was  called  the  "  shanty  " 
of  the  communists,  anarchists,  and  social- 
ists,— all  used  to  meet  there.  Bancroft  Librar  f 

On  leaving  Neff's,  Lingg  and  two  others 
were  with  him,  and  were  afterward  joined 
by  two  more  ;  all  had  bombs,  and  addi- 
tional testimony  went  to  show  that  the 
bombs  were  used  at  the  fatal  attack  upon 
the  police,  during  the  open-air  meeting  of 
the  anarchists,  called,  ostensibly,  to  de- 


L_ 


734 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


nounce  "the  latest  act  of  the  police,"  in 
dispersing  the  crowd  of  strikers  about  the 
McCormick  reaper  works.  The  effect  of 
this  evidence,  in  the  court  room,  was  ex- 
tremely startling,  furnishing,  as  it  did,  an 
inside  view  of  the  ways  and  means  so 
often  resorted  to  by  nihilists  in  the  old 
world,  but  unfamiliar  in  the  new,  and,  of 
course,  by  no  means  indorsed  or  approved 
by  all. 

But.  though  the  evidence  against  the 
anarchists,  as  being  guilty  of  the  crime 
charged,  namely,  that  of  advising,  or  en- 
couraging, aiding,  or  abetting  murderous 
acts,  was  overwhelming,  they  were  ably 
defended  and  their  interests  vigilantly 
guarded,  by  the  most  eminent  counsel, 
and  every  facility  afforded  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  their  innocence,  if  such  were 
capable  of  proof.  Weeks  were  occupied  in 
this  way,  and  the  public  treasury  as  freely 
drawn  upon  to  this  end  as  for  the  prosecu- 
tion. The  presiding  judge,  too,  Gary,  was 
acknowledged  to  possess,  and  to  have  ex- 
hibited, in  the  highest  degree,  the  legal 
learning,  impartiality,  and  patience  re- 
quired by  the  occasion. 

It  was  urged,  in  their  behalf,  that  the 
actual  thrower  of  the  bomb  not  being 
known  or  identified,  no  criminal  connec- 
tion therefore  could  be  established  be- 
tween the  speeches  and  writings  and  plans 
of  the  anarchists  and  the  fatal  act  in  ques 
t'on,  and  that  consequently  the  prisoners 
were  really  on  trial  for  their  opinions. 
As  against  this  theory,  or  claim,  it  was 
urged  that  the  anarchists'  meetings,  the 
proclaimed  justification  of  force,  the  appeal 
to  force,  the  manufacture  of  the  bombs  for 
a  positive  purpose,  the  call  to  arms  after 
the  riot  at  McCormick's,  the  determina- 
tion to  resist  the  police  as  myrmidons  of 
tyrannical  and  bloody  capital,  the  final 
meeting  and  its  harangues,  the  approach 
of  the  police,  and  the  catastrophe,  were 
all  steps  toward  the  deadly  crime;  that 
anarchy  contemplates  and  avows  a  forcible 
subversion  of  society,  which  must  begin,  if 
at  all,  in  the  very  way  that  was  adopted  in 
Chicago  ;  that  the  man  who  in  every  way 
incites  revolution  is  responsible  when  that 


revolution  begins,   and  amenable   for   its 
consequences. 

The  result  of  this  long  and  exciting 
trial  was  arrived  at  just  two  months  after 
its  commencement,  and  the  intensity  of 
interest  on  the  morning  of  the  jury  com- 
ing into  court,  with  their  verdict,  was 
almost  tragical.  At  eight  o'clock,  thou- 
sands of  persons  were  in  the  streets  in 
and  around  the  court  house.  Judge  Gary 
took  his  seat  upon  the  bench,  and  the 
prisoners  were  brought  in.  all  of  whom 
wore  their  usual  appearance  though  Spies 
and  Fischer  looked  deathly  pale.  Impress- 
ive silence  prevailed  as  the  jury  filed  in, 
and  the  following  verdict  was  rendered  : — 

"We,  the  jury,  find  the  defendants,  Au 
gust  Spies,  Samuel  Fielden,  Albert  R. 
Parsons,  Adolph  Fischer,  George  Engel, 
Michael  Schwab,  and  Louis  Lingg,  guilty 
of  murder,  as  charged  in  the  indictment, 
and  fix  the  penalty  at  death  ;  we  find  the 
defendant,  Oscar  W.  Neebe,  guilty  of 
murder,  in  manner  and  form  as  charged 
in  the  indictment,  and  fix  the  penalty 
at  imprisonment  in  the  penitentiary  for 
fifteen  years." 

The  defendants'  counsel  asked  that  the 
jury  be  polled,  and  each  answered  with  a 
firm  voice.  The  same  counsel  then  de- 
sired to  make  a  motion  for  a  new  trial ; 
the  state's  attorney,  however,  declared  that 
it  would  be  impossible  to  dispose  of  the 
motion  during  that  term,  but  it  could 
be  argued  at  the  September  term,  and 
this  was  mutually  agreed  to.  The  court 
ordered  the  motion  entered  and  continued 
until  the  next  term,  and  the  defendants 
taken  bick  to  jail.  Judge  Gary  then 
arose  and  addressed  the  jury  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury  :  You  have 
finished  this  long  and  very  arduous  trial, 
which  has  required  a  very  considerable 
sacrifice  of  time  and  some  hardship.  I 
hope  that  everything  has  been  done  that 
could  possibly  be  done,  to  make  those 
sacrifices  and  hardships  as  mild  as  might 
be  permitted.  It  does  not  become  me  to 
say  anything  in  regard  to  the  case  that 
i  you  have  tried,  or  the  verdict  you  have 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


735 


rendered  ;  but  men  compuisorily  serving 
as  jurors,  as  you  have  done,  deserve  some 
recognition  of  the  service  you  have  per- 
formed, beside  the  meager  compensation 
you  have  received." 

The  foreman  of  the  jury  replied  :  "The 
jury  have  deputed  to  me  the  only  agree- 
able duty  that  it  is  our  province  to  per- 
form, and  that  is  to  thank  the  court  and 
the  counsel  for  the  defense  and  for  the 
prosecution,  for  your  kindly  care  to  make 
us  as  comfortable  as  possible  during  our 
confinement.  We  thank  you." 

Ou  the  case  being  taken  before  the 
whole  bench  of  the  supreme  court  of 
Illinois,  on  law  points,  and,  after  most 
extended  argument  and  consideration,  it 
was  decided  adversely  to  the  condemned 
men.  Failing  of  a  reversal  by  the  appel- 
late court  of  the  State,  an  attempt  was 
made  to  have  the  case  reviewed  by  the 
United  States  supreme  court,  but  that 
tribunal  decided  that  it  had  no  jurisdiction. 
And  no\v,  petitions  innumerable,  for  and 
against  the  exercise  of  executive  clemency, 
poured  in  upon  Governor  Oglesby,  and  the 
people  of  Chicago  were  wrought  up  to 
a  high  state  of  excitement.  Fielden, 
Schwab,  and  Spies  petitioned  for  execu- 
tive clemency,  and  the  two  former  asked, 
in  addition,  for  a  commutation  of  their 
sentence;  but  this  last  Spies  declined  to 
do.  Accordingly,  Gov.  Oglesby  commuted 
the  sentences  of  Fielden  and  Schwab  to  im- 
prisonment for  life ;  his  reason,  as  given, 
for  not  interfering  in  the  case  of  Parsons, 
Lingg,  Engel,  and  Fischer  being  that  they 
were  guilty  and  had  put  in  no  plea  for 
mercy  as  guilty  men,  but  had  demanded 
freedom  as  innocent  men — and  in  the  case 
of  Spies,  editor  of  the  anarchist  news- 
paper at  the  time  of  the  terrible  riot,  the 
governor  did  not  feel  justified  in  inter- 
fering. 

The  day  of  doom  approached.  But  this 
was  anticipated  a  day  in  advance,  by  Louis 
Lingg,  who  exploded  in  his  mouth  a  large 
dynamite  cap,  concealed  in  a  candle — that 
is,  tallow  all  around  it.  How  he  obtained 
it  was  us  little  apparent  as  how  he  had 
received  four  others  found  in  his  cell  a 


few  days  previous.  His  head,  face,  and 
throat  were  horribly  torn,  and,  after  six 
hours,  death  relieved  him  of  his  terrible 
agonies. 

The  condemned  men  spent  their  last 
night  on  eartli  strongly  guarded.  Some 
slept,  others  talked  with  the  guards  or 
wrote  letters.  Spies  slept  as  peacefully 
as  an  infant  on  its  mother's  bosom  ;  Fischer 
lay  on  his  back  and  snored  loudly;  and  all 
slept  late.  Outside  the  jail,  several  hun- 
dred policemen  and  soldiers  guarded  it  and 
its  surroundings,  no  one  being  permitted 
to  enter  or  leave.  Spies  refused  to  allow 
a  clergyman  to  offer  up  a  prayer  in  his 
behalf.  Breakfast  was  served  in  the  jail 
early,  the  condemned  eating  heartily, 
though  Spies,  feeling  unwell,  was  served 
with  a  very  little  brandy.  While  all  was 
hushed  to  a  whisper,  in  view  of  the  near 
approach  of  the  fateful  hour,  and  only  the 
tread  of  the  armed  sentries  could  be  heard, 
the  voice  of  a  man  rose  in  song.  He  be- 
gan in  low,  fine  tones,  the  voice  gradually 
rising  higher  and  higher — each  note  clear 
— the  tone  full  and  steady.  It  startled 
those  in  the  jail,  guards  and  reporters 
going  forward  to  the  cell  from  which  it 
came,  and,  when  two  lines  or  more  had 
been  sung,  a  guard  whispered,  •'  It's  Par- 
sons ! "  He  was  standing  at  the  door  of 
his  cell,  just  outside,  against  the  jamb, 
with  his  head  up  and  shoulders  thrown 
back,  singing  as  if  he  were  a  lark  in  the 
meadows,  instead  of  a  man  upon  whom  the 
death  cap  was  so  soon  to  be  placed.  It 
was  a  strange  song,  too,  for  the  time  and 
place : — 

"  Maxwelton's  braes  are  bonnie,  when  early  fa's  the 

dew; 

It  was  there  that  Annie  Laurie  gave  me  her  promise 
true! 

Gave  me  her  promise  true — 
Gave  me  her  last  adieu. 

And  for  bonnie  Annie   Laurie  I'd  lay  me  doon  and 
dee." 

It  was  a  soft,  pure  voice,  and  seemed  to 
come  from  the  happiest  man  in  the  world  ; 
but  when  Parsons  saw  the  guards  and  re- 
porters approaching  nearer,  a  scowl  passed 
over  his  face,  though  his  voice  showed  no 
wavering.  As  the  song  died  away,  the 
guards  fell  back, — Mrs.  Pitroons  was  at 


736 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


the  jail  door,  pleading  for  admission  to 
her  husband,  which,  however,  wa<  refused, 
and,  as  she  rebelled,  the  officers  placed 
her  in  custody,  and  all  was  quiet  again, 
the  sheriff  and  his  men  moving  about 
noiselessly.  All  was  eager  expectancy ; 
everybody  was  waiting  for  the  last  mo- 
ment— not  a  sound  but  the  muffled  tread 
of  the  armed  guard  and  the  tick,  tick, 
tick,  tick  of  the  telegraph  instrument. 
The  hour  of  death  drew  nigh.  Spies  was 
writing,  Parsons  standing  sullenly  in  a 
corner  with  his  hands  in  his  trousers' 
pockets, — all  were  waiting  for  the  moment 
when  the  sheriff  should  lead  the  way  to 
the  gallows 

At  ten  o'clock,  after  the  condemned 
men  had  partaken  of  some  wine  or  brandy, 
Fischer  relieved  the  mental  strain  upon 
himself  and  his  associates  by  singing  the 
Marseillaise  hymn;  the  others  joined  him, 
but  their  voices,  though  loud,  were  orderly 
and  restrained.  At  about  eleven  o'clock, 
from  twD  to  three  hundred  newspaper 
men,  local  officials,  and  others,  among 
them  the  twelve  jurors  who  were  to  view 
the  bodies  after  execution,  passed  through 
the  passage  under  the  gallows,  and  began 
seating  themselves.  At  a  quarter  past 
eleven,  luncheon  was  served  to  the  con- 
demned men.  and  at  half-past  eleven  the 
reading  of  the  death  warrants  began,  the 
sheriff  taking  Spies  first.  It  was  in  a 
space  in  front  of  the  gallows  that  the 
spectators  were  gathered,  the  bare  white- 
washed walls  making  a  striking  contrast 
with  the  dark  brown  gallows,  with  its  four 
long,  noosed  rop  >s ;  a  gleam  of  sunshine, 
shooting  suddenly  through  the  window, 
fell  on  a  corner  of  the  scaffold,  in  a  slight 
degree  relieving  its  somber  hue,  and 
through  this  window  were  also  visible  a 
number  of  policemen,  armed  with  rifles, 
looking  down  from  the  roof  of  the  Dear- 
born street  wing  on  the  proceedings.  The 
chief  bailiff  called  out  the  names  of  the 
persons  summoned  as  jurors,  and  brought 
them  forward  to  a  row  of  little  stools 
directly  in  front  of  the  gallows.  No  other 
sounds  were  heard  in  the  long,  high  corri- 
dor, but  the  solemn,  monotonous  voice  of 


the  bailiff,  and  the  rustling  of  the  jurors, 
as  they  softly  passed  through  the  crowd. 
The  clergyman  in  attendance  was  Rev. 
Dr.  Bolton,  of  the  First  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church,  Chicago — a  devoted  Christian. 

Then  the  death  march  began. 

It  lacked  but  a  few  minutes  of  noon, 
when  a  single  white  shrouded  figure,  above 
which  was  a  face  of  yellowish  pallor, — the 
face  of  August  Spies, — passed  the  first  post 
of  the  scaffold,  and  the  gaping  crowd,  ten 
feet  below,  half  rose  from  their  seats,  at 
the  first  glimpse  of  the  apparition.  Spies 
looked  calm,  and  glanced  at  the  reporters 
with  his  characteristic  knowing  smile;  he 
walked  firmly  over  the  drop,  guided  by  the 
grasp  of  a  deputy,  to  the  furthest  edge  of 
the  gallows.  Following  close  walked  Fis- 
cher, close  enough  to  touch  Spies's  shroud, 
had  not  his  hands  been  pinioned  under  the 
white  muslin  ;  the  countenance  of  Fischer 
had  a  peculiar  glisten,  unlike  the  ashiness 
of  Engel's  heavy  features,  and  in  strange 
contrast  with  the  dead  lack  of  color  in  the 
pinched  lineaments  of  Parsons, — that  once 
jaunty,  vivacious  Texan 

And  now  the  jailer  adjusted  the  nooses, 
an  operation  of  seemingly  excessive  tedious- 
ness,  though  occupying  but  five  or  six  min- 
utes. Engel  turned  around  and  smiled  a 
good-bye  to  the  sheriff  and  his  deputy. 
The  cups  were  placed  over  their  heads, 
and,  a  few  moments  before  twelve,  the 
drop  fell.  An  instant  later,  the  doomed 
men  were  swinging  in  mid-air  The  last 
words  uttered  by  Spies  were,  "  There  will 
come  a  time  when  our  silence  will  be  more 
powerful  than  the  voices  they  are  strang- 
ling to  death  now."  Engel  shouted,  "Hur- 
rah for  Anarchy!"  Fischer  also  saying, 
"Hurrah  for  Anarchy — this  is  the  hap- 
piest moment  of  my  life  !  "  Parsons  said, 
'•  May  I  be  allowed  to  speak  ?  Will  you 
let  me  speak,  Sheriff  Matson  ?  Let  the 
voice  of  the  people  be  heard ! "  Among 
the  last  words  uttered  by  Spies  were 
these:  "  My  silence  is  more  ominous  than 
any  words  that  I  can  utter." 

The  law  was  vindicated,  and  its  course 
ended.  Fischer  and  Spies  died  hard,  and 
Parsons  struggled  fearfully,  and  the  pulse 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


737 


of  the  last  stopped  beating  in  thirteen  and 
one  half  minutes;  each  one  died  of  strangu- 
lation, none  having  his  neck  broken.  On 
the  coffins  being  brought  to  the  scaffold, 
Sheriff  Matson  exclaimed.  '•  His  will  be 
done."  The  bodies  were  lowered  in  the 
following  order:  Spies,  Fischer,  Engel, 
Parsons ;  all  looking  natural.  Thu  coffin 
lids  were  quickly  screwed  down,  paper 
tabs  being  pasted  on  each  for  identifica- 
tion. Engel's  and  Lingg's  remains  were 
conveyed  to  a  house  on  Milwaukee  ave- 
nue ;  Fischer's  wife  claimed  his ;  Spies's 
mother  took  his,  and  Mrs.  Parsons  re- 
ceived those  of  her  husband. 

It  may  be  remarked,  finally,  that,  in 
view  of  the  aggressive  and  dangerous 
character  of  anarchism,  its  principles  and 
leaders,  the  utmost  precaution  was  exer- 
cised by  the  state  and  city  authorities 
against  any  revolutionary  demonstrations, 
threats  having  been  made,  indefinitely,  to 
this  end  by  various  parties,  including 
such  violent  agitators  as  Most,  and  his 
colleagues,  in  New  York,  and  by  the 
avowed  anarchists  in  St.  Louis  and  other 
cities.  Orders  were  given  to  have  all  the 
approaches  to  the  jail  most  amply  guarded 
against  intrusion,  and  to  restrict  admis- 
sion of  visitors  to  the  other  inmates  of  the 
jail,  and  increased  vigilance  enjoined  upon 
all  the  officials  against  any  possible  con- 
tingency. The  extra  companies  of  police 
were  also  armed  with  rifles,  bayonets,  and 
revolvers.  All  of  the  houses  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  jail  had  been  inspected,  and  a 
record  of  the  inhabitants  obtained.  Every- 
thing, however,  was  kept  under  complete 
control,  though,  at  times,  portions  of  the 
crowd  were  somewhat  tumultuous. 

That  the  misguided  men  who  thus  paid 
the  penalty  of  their  lives  in  behalf  of  what 
they  believed  to  be  "the  rights  of  man 
and  the  wrongs  of  society  "  were  devoid  of 
the  personal  affections  common  to  men  of 
other  beliefs,  political  or  religious,  would 
not  appear  to  be  the  case,  judging  from 
the  testimony  borne  by  those  who  were 
more  or  less  in  contact  with  them.  Most 
of  them  appeared  to  be  possessed  of  more 
than  the  average  intelligence,  some  of 


them  indeed  being  highly  educated,  and, 
on  various  occasions,  their  gentleness  of 
manner  was  the  subject  of  remark  by  the 
jail  guards  and  others.  Of  Spies,  it  has 
been  stated  by  deputy  sheriff  John  W. 
Reid,  a  conscientious  and  gentlemanly 
official,  who  had  him  in  personal  charge 
for  some  time  prior  to  the  execution,  that, 
throughout  the  ordeal,  he  showed  a  moral 
heroism  and  manly  nerve  most  remarka- 
ble,— only  a  half  hour  before  the  final  mo- 
ment, conversing  with  composed  mind  and 
steady  nerve  on  moral  and  philosophical 
topics,  and  on  what  he  called  his  mission, 
also  on  what  he  believed  would  result  from 
his  and  his  companions' death.  These  and 
similar  remembrances  of  that  tragical  hour 
were  communicated  by  Mr.  Reid,  and  are 
therefore  entirely  trustworthy.  He  also 
stated,  that  the  reason  given  by  Spies  for 
declining  religious  advice,  in  his  last 
hours,  was  simply  because  his  own  belief 
afforded  him  all  needed  consolation  for 
the  occasion. 

The  commutation  of  the  death  sentence, 
in  these  cases,  to  life  imprisonment,  was 
urged  by  many  in  the  community,  as  a 
sufficient  atonement  for  the  past  and  secu- 
rity for  the  future.  This  opinion  was  held 
by  not  a  few,  even  of  the  more  conserva- 
tive class  in  Chicago  and  elsewhere.  The 
ground  upon  which  executive  clemency 
was  thus  believed  by  so  many  to  be  rea- 
sonable and  desirable  was,  that,  being 
imbued  with  ideas  which  germinate  in 
countries  where  the  legitimate  freedom 
of  speech  and  action  is  sternly  repressed, 
they  were  not  fully  conscious  of  the  moral 
criminality  of  their  action,  and  that  the 
main  purpose  of  their  punishment — the 
prevention  of  such  crimes  in  future — 
would  therefore  be  as  well,  if  not  better, 
served,  by  such  commutation.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  petitions  against  executive 
clemency  were  well  nigh  innumerable,  as 
well  as  powerful, and, as  proved,  irresistible. 

As  a  matter  of  right,  it  was  maintained 
by  Mr.  Henry  George — whose  views  on 
all  these  questions  could  not  be  regarded 
as  deficient  in  liberalism — there  was  no 
ground  for  leniency.  He  declared,  in  his 


738 


ANARCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


journal,  that  an  unlawful  and  murderous 
•deed  was  committed,  the  penalty  of  which 
by  the  laws  of  the  state  of  Illinois  was 
death;  that  eight  men  were  tried  on  the 
charge  of  being  accessory  to  the  crime, 
and  after  a  long  trial  were  convicted ;  the 
case  was  appealed  to  the  supreme  court  of 
Illinois,  and  that  body,  composed  of  seven 
judges,  removed,  both  in  time  and  place, 
from  the  excitement  which  may  have  been 
supposed  to  have  affected  public  opinion  in 
Chicago  during  the  first  trial,  did,  after  an 
elaborate  examination  of  the  evidence  and 
the  law,  unanimously  confirm  the  sentence ; 


that  seven  judges,  therefore,  of  the  highest 
court  of  Illinois,  men  accustomed  to  weigh 
evidence  and  to  pass  upon  judicial  rulings, 
should,  after  such  full  examination  of  the 
testimony  and  the  record,  and  with  the 
responsibility  of  life  and  death  resting 
upon  them,  unanimously  sustain  the  ver- 
dict and  the  sentence,  is  inconsistent  with 
the  idea  that  the  Chicago  anarchists  were 
condemned  on  insufficient  evidence.  Not, 
therefore,  as  a  matter  of  right,  but  of 
humanity  and  a  considerate  public  policy, 
Mr.  George,  with  many  others,  urged  the 
act  of  commutation. 


ANAKCHIST  TRIALS  AND  EXECUTIONS. 


INDEX 


A. 

ACCIDENTAL  discovery  of  gold  in  California,  364. 
of  the  microphone  by  Edison,  687. 

ACCOMPLICES  of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  assassin  of 
Pros.  Lincoln,  the  trials  and  fates  of  the,  627. 

ACHIEVEMENTS  of  Admiral  Farragut,  589. 

ACKNOWLEDGMENT  of  the  independence  of  the  United 
States  by  foreign  powers,  31. 

ADAMS,  John,  speech  of,  upon  tlie  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence, 26. 

—  his  nomination  of  Washington  as  commander,  64. 

—  appointment  of,  first  minister  to  England,  70. 

—  audience  with  George  III,  his  account  of  his,  74. 

—  his  eloquent  presentation  of  the  American  cause,  75. 

—  result  of  the  embassy  to  England  of,  75. 

—  John  Quincy,  his  struggle  for  the  right  of  petition 
In  congress,  252. 

his  death  in  the  national  capital,  262. 

ADMIRAL  FAHRAGUT'S  achievements  at  New  Orleans 
in  1862,  590. 

his  gallant  action  in  Mobile  bay,  592. 

ADOPTION  of  the  federal  constitution  by  the  states,  83. 
ADVEXT,  Second,  the  excitement  of  1843,  as  to  the,  307. 
ADVENTURES  of  Fremont  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  286. 
ADVOCACY  of  the  Union  cause  in  England,  Henry 

Ward  Beecher's,  573. 
AFTER  the  battle  of  Antietam,  appalling  sights,  540. 

—  the  earthquake,  scene,  156. 

AGRICULTURAL  Hall,  at  the  centennial  exhibition,  695. 
ALABAMA,  the  combat  of  the,  with  the  Kearsarge,  581. 
ALARM,  caused  by  the  total  solar  eclipse,  135. 

by  the  mysterious  dark  day  of  1780,  4fl. 

ALEXANDER,  Czar  of   Kussia,  the  centennial  gratula- 

tions  of,  705. 
ALBERT  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  tour  in  the  United 

States  of,  493. 

ALONG  the  Jordan,  wild  and  impressive  scenery,  356. 
AMBASSADOR,  John  Adams,  the  first  from  the  United 

States  to  England,  70. 
AMBASSADORS,  the  Japanese,  491. 
AMENDMENT,  fifteenth  constitutional,  ratification  of, 

by  the  states,  552. 
AMERICA,  matched  with  England  on  Lake  Erie,  163. 

—  the  yacht,  the  international  race  won  by,  403. 

—  first  embassy  from  the  Orient  to  a  foreign  power 
sent  to,  486. 

—  the  bloodiest  day  in  the  history  of,  53!>. 

—  free  popular  education,  the  progress  of  in,  667. 
AMERICAN  defenses  at  New  Orleans,  171. 

—  forces,  junction  of  the,  with  the  French  at  York- 
town,  56. 

—  independence,  declaration  of,  25. 
AMITV,  between  England  and  America,  70. 
ANDERSON,  Gen.,  his  defense  of  Fort  Sumter,  501. 

—  restoration  of  the  U.  S.,  flag  to  Fort  Sumter  by,  615. 

—  John,  Major  Andre's  capture  under  the  name  of,  49. 
ANDRE,  Major,  the  British  spy,  manner  and  incidents 

of  the  capture  of,  49,  50. 
its  Intrigue  with  Benedict  Arnold,  49. 


ANECDOTES,  relating  to  the  selection  of  the  location  of 

the  national  capital,  114. 
ANNAPOLIS,  Washington's  resignation  of  his  commis. 

sion  to  congress  at,  68. 
ANNIVERSARY  of  the  birth  of  the  republic,  celebration 

of  the  one  hundredth,  689. 
ANTIETAM,  the  battle  of,  535. 
APOSTLES,  Mormon,  their  proselyting  in  Europe,  219. 

—  of  Temperance,  the  famous,  277. 
APOSTROPHE,  Webster's  eloquent,  to  the  Union,  211. 
APPALLING  catastrophe,  on  board  the  Princeton,  315. 
APPEAL  for  life,  to  Gibbs,  the  pirate,  by  a  girl,  222. 
APPEARANCE  of  the  great  comet  of  1843,  305. 

—  of  Jenny  Liud  at  Castle  Garden,  392. 
APPLICATION    of    Lafayette  to    enter    the   American 

army,  188. 

APPOMATOX,  the  momentous  occurrence  at,  612. 
APRIL  14, 1865,  the  bereavement  of  the  nation  on,  617. 
ARCHBISHOP  MeCloskey,  consecration  of,  as  the  first 

American  cardinal,  675. 
ARCHIVES,  the  removal  of  the  national,  to  Washing 

ton,  116. 
ARCTIC,  the  Collins  steamer,  loss  of  the,  at  sea  by  col 

lisiou  at  noonday  with  the  Vesta,  429. 
ARMY,  Washington  assuming  command  of  the,  64. 

—  the  farewell  address  of  Washington  to  the,  67. 
ARNOLD,  Benedict,  early  career  and  character  of,  48. 

account  of  the  treason  of,  48. 

plot  of,  to  deliver  West  Point  to  the  British,  49. 

frustration  of  the  plot  of,  50. 

escape  from  arrest  of,  52. 

reward  and  punishment  of,  54. 

ARREST,  of  Aaron  Burr,  dramatic  scene  at  the,  147. 

—  Prof.  Webster's,  for  murder  of  Dr.  Parkman,  378. 

—  of  Booth,  the  assassin  of  President  Lincoln,  625. 
ARRIVAL,  of  Lafayette  in  New  York,  scene  at  the,  191. 

—  of  Kossuth  in  New  York,  scene  at  the,  416. 

—  of  the  Great  Eastern  with  the  Atlantic  cable,  635. 
ARTIFICIAL  light,  wonderful  revolution  in,  484. 
ASHMUN,  Hon.  George,  of  Springfield,  Mass.,  last  inter- 
view of  Lincoln  with,  618. 

ASIATIC  cholera,  its  visitations  upon  America,  369. 
ASSASSINATION,  attempted,  of  President  Jackson,  236. 

—  of  President  Lincoln,  by  John  Wilkes  Booth,  617, 
scene  in  Ford's  Theater  at  the,  620. 

ASSAULT  upon  Hon.  Chas.  Sumuer  in  the  U.  S.  Senate 
chamber  by  Preston  S.  Brooks,  437. 

scene  at  the,  443. 

ASTONISHING  feats  of  horse  taming  by  Prof .  Earey,  509. 
ASSUMING  command  of  the  army,  Washington,  at  Cam- 
bridge, 65. 

—  at  Vicksburg,  Gen.  Grant,  555. 
ATLANTA,  Ga.,  Gen.  Sherman  at,  599. 
ATLANTIC  telegraphic  cable,  the  several  attempts  and 
failures  in  laying  the,  630. 

the  successful  laying  of  the,  632. 

the  first  message  transmitted  through  the,  634- 

ATMOSPHERICAL  phenomena,  during  the  "dark  day" 

of  1780,  42. 
ATTEMPTED  assassination  of  President  Jacksen,  238. 


742 


INDEX. 


ATZERODT,  the  trial  and  execution  of,  627. 
AURORA  Boree.lis,  the  magnificent,  of  1837,  269. 

its  remarkable  extent  and  duration,  270. 

appearance  of,  271-274. 

accounts  of,  from  different  points,  272. 

AUTOGRAPHIC  letter,  of  the  Emperor  of  Germany  to 

President  Grant,  704. 
AVENUES  of  the  national  capital,  Washington's  plan 

of  the,  116. 

AWAKENING,  the  great  religious,  of  1887, 456. 
AWFUL  explosion,  on  board  the  Princeton,  315. 

—  visitations,  of  the  cholera  and  yellow  fever,  369. 

"  AWFUL  "  Gardiner,  the  prize-fighter's  conversion,  463. 

B. 

BALLS,  the  great,  to  Prince  Albert  at  New  York  and 
Boston,  498.  499. 

"  BANNER  TOWN,"  for  furnishing  soldiers  in  the  revo- 
lution, 190. 

BARCLAY,  Commodore,  in  the  battle  of  Lake  Krie,  168. 

BARNUM,  P.  T.,  his  success  with  Jenny  Lind,  390. 

—  Jenny  Lind's  first  interview  with,  391. 

"  BARON  RENFREW,"  tour  of,  in  the  United  States,  493. 
BARRICADING  the  streets  against  the  cholera,  368. 
BATTLE,  on  Lake  Erie,  Commodore  Perry's  famous,  167. 

—  on  the  Thames,  against  the  British  and  Indians,  170. 

—  at  New  Orleans.  Gen  Jackson's  famous.  176. 

—  of  the  Forts,  501. 

—  of  Bull  Run,  the  first,  523. 

—  of  Antietam,  the  bloody  and  decisive,  539. 

—  of  Gettysburg,  the  three  days.  567. 
BATTLES,  the  greatest  in  the  Indian  wars,  90. 

—  in  Mexico,  346-353. 

—  of  the  civil  war,  523,  539, 587. 

—  naval,  32,  38,  163,  526,  581. 

BEAUREGARD,  Gen.,  his  demand  for  the  surrender  of 

Fort  Sumter,  504. 
BEAUTY  of  nature,  after  the  "  dark  day  "  of  1780,  47. 

—  of  the  site  of  the  national  capital,  116, 
BEECHER,  Henry  Ward,  the  oratorical  championship 

of  the  Union  cause  in  England  by,  573. 

defending  the  American  Union  at  Exeter  Hall, 

London,  575. 

church  of,  in  Brooklyn,  579. 

BEGINNING  of  the  wonderful  aurora  borealis,  270. 
BELL,  Prof.  A.  G.,his  invention  of  the  telephone,  684. 
BENTON,  Thomas  H.,  the  interview  of,    with  Henry 
Clay  before  the  dnel,  197. 

—  the  famous  expunging  resolution  of,  in  U.  S.  Sen- 
ate, 263. 

—  contest  of,  with  Webster,  Calhoun  and  Clay,  267. 
BERLIN,  celebration  of  the  American  centennial  in,  704. 
BIBLE,  used  at  inauguration  of  Washington,  90. 
BIBLICAL  plates  of  the  Mormons,  history  of  the,  216. 
BIRDS,  singular  actions  of,  during  the  great  eclipse,  136. 
BIKTH  of  the  new  republic,  in  1776,  25. 

centennial  commemoration  of  the,  in  1876,  689. 

BIRTH-PLACE  of  Lafayette,  193. 
"  BLACK  HAWK,"  the  Indian  chief,  the  war  with,  92. 
BLENNERHASSETT,  Harman,  his  complicity  in  the  plot 
of  Aaron  Burr,  142. 

—  the  early  life  and  romantic  history  of,  143. 

—  the  wife  of,  her  hrave  defense  of  her  husband,  144. 

—  the  flight  and  escape  of,  145. 

—  the  unhappy  fate  of,  148. 
BLOODSHED  in  the  senate  chamber.  438. 
BLOODIEST  day  of  the  civil  war,  535. 
BLOODLESS  duel  between  Clay  and  Randolph,  196. 
BOGGS,  Capt.,  his  naval  achievements,  590. 
BOMBARDMENT  of  Fort  Sumter,  501. 

—  of  Vicksburg,  554. 

BONAPARTE,  Napoleon,  his  tribute  to  Washington,  125. 


BOOTH,  John  Wilkes,  assassination  of  President  Lin- 
coln by,  620. 

—  dramatic  flight  and  arrest  of,  625. 

—  tragic  death  of,  626. 

—  his  dying  message  to  his  mother,  627. 

—  trials  and  fates  of  the  accomplices  of,  627. 
BORING,  for  petroleum,  the  first,  479. 
BOSTON  CORBETT,  Sergeant,  624. 

BRADFORD,  David,  the  leader  of  the  whiskey  insurrec- 
tionists in  Pennsylvania,  107. 
BRAZIL,  the  Emperor  of,  at  the  centennial,  690. 
BREAKING  and  taming  of  wild  horses,  by  Rarey,  509. 

—  out  of  the  temperance  reformation  of  1840,  276. 

—  up  of  Burr's  expedition,  146. 

BRIDAL  chamber,  the  Asiatic  cholera  in  the,  373. 

BRILLIANT  musical  tour  of  Jenny  Lind,  386. 

BROADWAY,  N.Y.,  the  grand  Kossuth  procession  in,  416. 

BROOKS,  Preston  S.,  his  assault  upon  Senator  Sum- 
ner,  437. 

BRUTE  creation,  effect  of  the  solar  eclipse  on  the,  136. 

BUCHANAN,  President,  reception  of  the  Japanese  em- 
bassy by,  487. 

—  correspondence  between  Queen  Victoria  and,  494. 

—  reception  of  Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales  by,  496. 

—  Commodore,  in  command  of  the  Merrimac,  526. 
BUILDINGS  of  the  centennial  exhibition  of  1876,  694. 
BULL  RUN,  the  first  battle  of,  517. 

—  the  opposing  armies  before,  518. 

—  the  conflict  and  panic  at,  521. 

—  the  losses  of  the  contending  armies  at,  525. 

—  coincidences,  remarkable,  of  the  last  battle  of  the 
war  with,  613. 

BUNKER  HILL,  oration  of  Daniel  Webster  at  the  laying 
of  the  corner  stone  of  the  monument  at,  192. 

visit  of  Lafayette  to,  192. 

BURNSIDE,  Gen.,  gallantry  of,  at  Antietam,  538. 

—  "  the  holding  of  the  hill "  at  Antietam  by,  Geo. 
W.  Smalley's  account  of,  538,  539. 

BURNING  of  one  of  the  great  oil  wells,  482. 

—  of  the  city  of  Chicago  in  1871,  655. 
BURIAL  of  George  Washington,  123. 

—  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  624. 

—  place  of  Lincoln,  626. 

BURR,  Aaron,  account  of  the  early  life  of,  127. 

—  his  bravery  and  ardor  in  the  revolution,  128. 

—  his  dismissal  by  Washington,  for  debauchery,  128. 

—  his  career  as  a  lawyer,  128. 

—  his  election  to  the  United  States  Senate,  129. 

—  his  candidacy  for  the  presidency,  129. 

—  his  quarrel  and  fatal  duel  with  Hamilton,  130. 

—  his  conspiracy  to  establish  an  American  empire,  143. 

—  and  his  deluded  followers,  146. 

—  his  trial  for  treason  and  acquittal,  147. 

—  Theodosia,  the  daughter  of,  her  devotion  to,  148. 

—  his  death,  150. 

BURSTING  of  the   monster   gun,    "  Peacemaker,"  on 

board  the  Princeton,  315. 
BURYING  the  dead  at  Antietam,  536. 

C. 

CABINET,  the  discussion  in  Pres.  Lincoln's,  upon  the 
emancipation  proclamation,  547. 

—  reception  of  the  news  of  Cornwallis's  surrender,  in 
the  English,  58. 

CABLE,  the  Atlantic,  telegraph,  section  of  the,  629. 

—  the  attempts  and  failures  to  lav.  630- 

—  tne  scene  at  the  completion  of,  G32. 

—  the  first  message  transmitted  through,  634. 
CALIFORNIA,  disastrous  earthquake  in,  161. 

—  the  acquisition  of,  347. 

—  rapid  growth  of,  account  of  the,  366. 

—  reign  of  the  vigilance  committee  in,  395. 


INDEX. 


743 


CALIFORNIA,  the  gold  excitement  of  1848  in,  360. 

—  Fremont's  expeditions  to,  361. 

—  the  first  execution  in,  3%. 

CAMPAIGN  against  Vicksburg  by  the  Union  forces,  564. 
CANBY,  Gen.,  surrender  of  Generals  Dick  Taylor  and 
.  Kirby  Smith  to,  015. 
CANNONADING  of  Fort  Sumter,  500. 

—  of  Yicksburg,  555. 

CAPITAL,  national,  description  of  the,  lltf. 
CAPITOL,  Washington  laying  the  corner  stone  of  the 
national,  116. 

—  Webster's  oration  at  the  laying  of  the  corner  stone 
of  the  extension  of  the  national,  11*. 

CAPTURE  of  Major  Andre,  the  British  spy,  50. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr,  147. 

—  of  Gibbs  the  pirate,  226. 

—  of  the  assassin,  John  Wilkes  Booth,  625. 
CARDINAL,  Archbishop  McCloskey,  first  American,  676. 
CAREER  of  Benedict  Arnold,  48. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr,  129. 

—  of  Gibbs,  the  noted  pirate,  222. 

—  of  Capt.  Raphael  Semmes,  581. 

CARPENTER,  F.  B.,  the  great  historical  painting  of  the 
"proclamation  of  emancipation"  by,  546. 

CATHEDRAL,  the  most  magnificent  American,  dedica- 
tion of,  675. 

—  ceremonies  of  the  dedication  of  St.  Patrick's,  680. 
CATHOLIC  cardinal,  consecration  of  the  first,  in  Amer- 
ica, 675. 

CATTLE,  actions  of,  during  the  eclipse  of  1806,  136. 
CELEBRATION  of  the  completion  of  the  Pacific  Rail- 
road, 637. 

—  of  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of 
the  republic,  698. 

CENTENNIAL  commemoration  of  the  birth  of  the  re- 
public, 689. 

—  celebration  of  independence  day,  1876,  698. 
CEREMONY,  at  the  resignation  of  Washington  as  com- 

mander-in-chief  of  the  army,  68. 

—  of  the  presentation  of  John  Adams,  first  minister 
to  England,  to  King  George  III.,  74. 

—  at  the  opening  of  the  centennial  exhibition,  692. 
CEUKO  GOHDO,  Victory  of  Gen.  Winneld  Scott  at,  350. 
CHAMPIONSHIP,  of  the  sea,  race  for  the,  403. 

—  of  the  Union  cause  in  England,  Henry  Ward  Beech- 
er's,  573. 

CHANGE  of  scene  after  the  dark  day  of  1780,  44. 
CHAPTLTEPEC,  account  of  the  storming  of,  347. 
CHERBOURG,  the  duel  of  the  iron-clads  at,  581. 
CHICAGO,  the  destruction  by  fire  of,  in  1871,  663. 

—  reception  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  at,  494. 
CHOLERA,  the  scourge  of  the  Asiatic,  368. 

—  its  visits  to  and  ravages  iu  America,  369. 

—  its  causes,  369. 

—  phenomena  of  and  incidents  in  relation  to  370. 

—  the  fancied  preventives  and  remedies  of,  370. 

—  horrible  scenes  during  the  prevalence  of,  371-375. 

—  comparative  mortality  of,  between  the  sexes,  374. 
CHRISTMAS  gift  of  Gen.  Sherman  to  Pres.  Lincoln,  605. 
CINCINNATI,  ovation  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  at,  696. 
CITY  of  Washington  in  1876, 116. 

CIVIL  war,  the  cause  of  the,  601. 

the  first  aggression  in  the,  at  Snmter,  502. 

'he  first  battle  of  the,  517. 

the  last  battle  of  the,  607. 

remarkable  coincidence  in  the,  613. 

CLAY,  Henry,  the  duel  of,  with  John  Randolph,  196. 
COINCIDENCE,  of  the  great  earthquake,  and  first  steam 
navigation,  157. 

—  of  the  first  and  last  battle  of  the  war,  613. 
COLLEGES,  account  of  the  progress  of  American,  668. 
COLLISION,  the  strange,  of  the  Arctic  and  Vesta,  429. 
COLT,  John  C.,  murder  of  Adams  by,  384. 


COLT,  conviction  for  murder  and  suicide  in  prison  of  ,3*6. 
COMBAT  of  the  Merrimac  and  Monitor,  52t>. 

—  of  the  Alabama  and  Kearsarge,  581. 
COMET,  the  remarkable,  of  1843,  account  of,  300. 
COMETS  of  the  century,  account  of,  305. 
COMMEMORATION,  centennial,  of  Independence,  698. 
COMPLETION  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  celebration  of,  637. 

—  scene  at  Promontory  Point  upon  the,  641. 
COMMERCE  with  Japan,  the  first  treaty  for,  486. 
CONFEDERACY,  Southern,  attempt  to  establish  a,  601. 

—  the  fall  of  the  capital  of  the,  607. 
CONFLAGRATION,  the  most  destructive  of  the  age,  653. 

—  singular  exemption  of  a  single  house  in  the,  659. 
CONSECRATION,  the  first,  of  a  prince  of  the  Catholic 

Church,  in  America,  678. 
CONSPIRACY,  to  form  an  American  empire,  142. 

—  of  Booth  and  others  to  assassinate  the  principal 
officers  of  the  government,  617. 

CONSTITUTION,  Federal,  formation  of  the,  77. 

—  the  causes  leading  to  the  formation  of  the,  78. 

—  the  objects  sought  to  be  attained  by  the,  78. 

—  the  men  who  shaped  the,  78,  79. 

—  John  Randolph's  plan  of  a,  80. 

—  the  exciting  debate  upon  the,  80. 

—  the  secrecy  of  the  debate  upon  the,  80. 

—  speech  of  Benj.  Franklin  upon  the,  81. 

—  scenes  in  convention  upon  adoption  of  the,  82. 

—  declaration  of  Washington  upon  signing  the,  82. 

—  acceptance,  by  the  states,  of  the.  83. 

—  fifteenth  amendment  to  the,  passage  of  the,  532. 
CONVENTION,  the  great  constitutional,  of  1787,  78. 
CORNWALLIS,  Lord,  surrender  of,  at  Yorktown,  55. 

—  house  where  the  surrender  of,  took  place,  55. 

—  scene  at  the  surrender  of,  57. 
CORLISS  engine,  the  great,  692. 

COTTON  GIN,  Eli  Whitney's  invention  of  the,  98. 
how  it  was  suggested  to  Whitney,  99. 

—  scene  at  a,  101. 

the  change  wrought  by  the,  in  the  South,  103. 

—  the  effect  upon  the  commercial  world  of  the,  104. 
CRISIS,  the  terrible  financial,  of  1857,  447. 

—  at  Antietam,  the,  540. 

CRYSTAL  PALACE,  opening  of  the,  at  New  York,  420. 

—  view  of  the,  425. 

CUMBERLAND,  the  sinking  of  the,  by  the  Merrimnc.  528. 
"  CUP  of  all  nations,"  won  by  the  yacht  America,  409. 

D. 

DANA,  rrof.,  his  theory  as  to  petroleum,  483. 
DANCING,  American  ladies,  with  Prince  Albert,  498. 
DANVILLE,  Jefferson  Davis  establishing  his  seat  of  gov- 
ernment at,  614. 
DARK  day,  the  mysterious,  of  1780,  40. 

—  incidents  and  anecdotes  of  the,  41. 

—  phenomena,  unexplained,  attending  the,  42. 

—  the  extent  obscured  on  the,  45. 

—  scientific  theories  as  to  the  cause  of  the,  46. 

—  the  unsolved  mystery  of  the,  47. 

DAVIS,  Andrew  Jackson,  the  spiritual  medium,  346. 

—  Jefferson,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  524. 
the  flight  of,  after  Lee's  surrender,  614. 

DEAD  Sea.  Lynch's  expedition  to  the.,  354. 

—  the  shores  and  surroundings  of  the,  358. 

—  the  mystery  solved  of  the,  359. 
DEATH,  of  George  Washington.  169. 

—  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  133. 

—  of  John  Quincy  Adams  in  the  national  capital,  262. 

—  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  617. 

—  tragic,  of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  assassin,  626. 
DEATH-BED,  scene  at  President  Washington's,  122. 

—  scene  at  President  Lincoln's,  621. 

DEBATE,  the  great,  between  Webster  and  Hayne,  205. 


744 


INDEX. 


DEBATE,  the  questions  discussed  in,  206. 

the  debaters  in,  contrasted,  2118. 

scene  after  Webster's  speech  in,  211. 

—  the  eleven  days',  on  the  right  of  petition,  253. 

—  the  great  political,  of  Lincoln  and  Uouglas,  469. 
scene  during,  470. 

DECLARATION  of  national  sovereignty,  25. 

DECOY  letter  sent  by  Washington  to  attract  Cornwallls 

to  Yorktown,  58. 
DEDICATION  of  the  Bull  Run  memorial  monument,  025. 

—  of  St.  Patrick's  cathedral  in  New  York,  680. 
DEFEAT  of  the  British  ship  of  war,   Serapis,  30. 

—  of  the  British  under  Cormvallis  at  Yorktown,  57. 

—  of  the  Indians  by  Mad  Anthony  Wayne,  93. 

—  of  St.  Clair  by  "  Little  Turtle,"  95. 

—  of  British  squadron  on  Lake  Erie  by  Perry,  167. 

—  of  the  British  at  New  Orleans  by  Gen.  Jackson,  176. 

—  of  Santa  Anna  by  Gen.  Taylor,  350. 

—  of  the  Mexicans  by  Gen.  Scott,  352. 

—  of  the  Union  forces  at  Bull  Run,  523. 

—  of  the  Confederates  at  Vicksburg,  557. 

—  of  the  Confederates  at  Gettysburg,  567. 

—  of  the  Alabama  by  the  Kearsarge,  587. 

—  of  the  Confederate  iron-clads  at  New  Orleans,  593. 

—  of  the  Confederates  at  Fort  Fisher,  597. 

—  of  the  Confederates  at  Savannah,  605. 

—  of  Gen.  Lee  by  Gen.  Grant  at  Richmond,  610. 
DEFENSE  of  the  Union,  Beecber's,  in  England,  573. 
DE  KALB,  visit  of  Washington  and  Lafayette  to  the 

grave  of,  192. 

DELEGATES  to  the  convention  for  framing  the  federal 
constitution,  78. 

DELUSION,  tlie  Second  Advent,  of  Miller,  307. 

DEPARTURE  of  Lafayette  from  America,  195. 

DE  ROCHAMBEAU,  Count,  at  Yorktown,  59. 

DESK  on  'Which  Jefferson  "wrote  the  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence, 700. 

DESTRUCTION  of  the  world,  the  expected,  307. 

Eev.  William  Miller's  prophecy  of,  308. 

the  preparations  made  for  the  impending,  311. 

—  by  the  great  flood  in  1S13,  ITS. 

DEVOTION  of  Theodosia,  daughter  of  Aaron  Burr,  to 

her  father,  1 18. 

DIARY,  Washington's  last  entry  in  his,  120. 
DIFFICULTY  of  traveling  during  the  "  dark  day,"  40. 
DINNER  given  by  Washington  to  Lord  Cornwallis  after 

the  surrender  of  Yorktown,  Cl. 

—  Washington's  toast  to  the  British  army  at  the,  62. 
DISCOVERY  of  ether  as  an  anaesthetic,  3*5. 

—  of  gold  at  Sutler's  mills  in  California,  360. 
DISSOLUTION  of  the  Union,  the  petition  presented  by 

John  Quincy  Adams,  to  congress  for  the,  257. 
DISTINGUISHED  temperance  advocates,  282. 
DISTRICT  of  Columbia,  the  laying  the  first  corner  stone 

by  Washington  in,  116. 
DOM  Pedro,  Emperor  of  Brazil,  visit  of,  to  ihe  United 

States,  690. 

—  starting  the  great  engine  at  the  centennial,  692. 
DOUBLE  execution  by  the  vigilance  committee  in  San 

Francisco,  393. 

DOUGLAS,  Stephen  A.,  the  great  debate  of,  with  Abra- 
ham Lincoln,  469. 

DRAFTING  of  the  declaration  of  independence,  26. 

—  of  the  emancipation  proclamation,  546. 
DREAMS,  the  prophetic,  of  President  Lincoln,  CIS. 
DUEL,  the  fatal,  of  Burr  and  Hamilton,  127. 

—  the  harmless,  of  Clay  and  Randolph,  1S6. 
DUELING  ground  at  Weehawken,  view  of  the,  131. 

—  Alexander  Hamilton's  testimony  against,  132. 

—  ground  at  Bladensburg,  view  of  the,  202. 
DYING  words  of  Georae  Wnshinfrton,  11  o. 

—  John  Quincy  Adams,  in  the  national  capital,  262. 

—  message  of  the  assassin  Booth  to  his  mother,  627. 


B. 

EARLY  home  of  President  Lincoln,  617. 
EARTHQUAKE,  the  great  western,  of  lull,  156. 

—  its  extent  and  disastrous  effects,  157. 

its  long-continued  violence,  159. 

the  changes  wrought  by,  Kid. 

ECLIPSE,  the  total  solar,  at  mid-day,  of  1806. 

effect  upon  the  witnesses  of,  135. 

the  actions  of  beasts  and  birds  during,  136. 

scientific  calculations  based  upon,  137. 

reports  from  different  observers  of,  13S. 

views  of  the  superstitious  upon,  140. 

EDISON,  Thomas  A.,  the  inventor,  accounts  of,  6*1. 
, —  his  improvements  upon  the  electric  light,  G^2. 
''—  Ills  invention  of  the  phonograph,  685. 

—  his  invention  of  the  microphone,  687. 
EDMONDS,  Judge,  account  of,  as  a  spiritualist,  3J5. 

—  his  classification  of  spiritual  mediums,  345. 
EDUCATION,  free  popular,  in  the  United  States,  rise 

and  progress  of,  667. 

—  contrast  of  the  old  with  the  new  system  of,  670. 

—  the  grants  of  public  lands  in  aid  of,  671. 

—  bureau  of,  at  Washington,  672. 

—  free  public,  for  females,  condition  of  schools  for,  673. 
EGYPT,  its  contribution  to  the  exhibition  of  1*76,  697. 
ELECTION,  first,  of  a  president  of  the  United  States,  83. 
ELECTRIC  light,  the  invention  of,  by  Prof.  Farmer,  6*1. 

description  of  the,  682. 

—  the  adaptations  to  use  of  the,  683. 
at  sea,  683. 

—  telegraph,  the  invention  of  the,  244. 
ELECTRICITY,  experiments  of  Prof.  Morse  with,  244. 

—  the  trial  of,  in  congress  by  Gov.  Wallace,  247. 
ELI  WHITNEY,  the  inventor  of  the  cotton  gin,  100. 
EMANCIPATION,  Pres.  Lincoln's  proclamation  of,  644. 

—  the  exigency  that  caused  the  proclamation  of,  645. 

—  the  great  event  of  the  19th  century,  estimated  by 
Lincoln  as,  548. 

—  public  reception  of  proclamation  of,  550. 

—  its  effect  upon  the  freedmen,  551. 
EMINENT  revival  preachers  of  the  century,  460. 
EMBASSY,  the  first,  from  the  New  Republic  to  the  Eng- 
lish Court,  70. 

—  the  results  of  John  Adams's  to  George  III.,  75. 

—  the  first  Oriental,  to  a  foreign  government,  485. 
EMIGRATION,  the  great,  to  California  in  the  gold  ex- 
citement of  1848,  367. 

—  the  great,  to  the  oil  regions  in  1859,  476. 
EMPEROR  of  Germany,  letter  of,  to  Pres.  Grant,  704. 

his  congratulations  upon  the  republic's  centen- 
nial anniversary,  707. 

—  of  Brazil,  Dom  Pedro,  at  the  centennial,  692. 
ENCOMIUM  upon  Massachusetts,  Daniel  Webster's,  209. 
END  of  the  world,  the  Millerites  awaiting  the,  310. 
ENGINE,  the  Corliss,  at  the  exposition  of  1876,  602. 

Pres.  Grant  and  Dom  Pedro  starting  the,  692. 

ENGINEERING,  feats  of,  in  the  construction  of  the  Pa- 
cific railway,  638. 

ENGLAND,  the  reception  of  the  first  Republican  ambas- 
sador by.  70. 

—  the  heir  to  the  throne  of,  in  the  United  States,  493. 

—  banishment  of  Aaron  Burr  from,  148. 
ENTRANCE  of  the  United  States  army  into  the  capital 

of  Mexico.  352. 

—  of  the  Union  army  into  the  Confederate  capital.  610. 

—  of  the  New  York  Seventh  Regiment  into  Union 
Square  at  the  centennial  celebration.  701. 

EPIDEMICS,  the  great  yellow  fever  and  cholera.  36S. 

—  the  several  great,  of  the  century,  369. 

—  heart-rending  scenes  during  the  prevalence  of,  371. 
ERICSSON,  construction  of  the  "  Monitor  "  by,  630. 
ETHER,  discovery  of,  as  an  ansesthetic,  324. 


INDEX. 


ETHER,  religious  objections  urged  agaiust  the  use  of,  325. 

—  the  three  claimants  to  the  discovery  of,  326. 

—  the  effects,  beneficent  aud  amusing,  of  32'J. 

—  Ward's  monument  in  honor  of  the  discovery  of,  330. 
EVAKTS,  William  II.,  the  centennial  oration  of,  60S. 
EVKKETT,    Edward,  his   eulogy    of  Webster's   speech 

against  Hayne,  210. 
EXCITEMENT,  the  great  gold,  of  1848,  360. 

—  the  great  temperance,  of  1849,  281. 

—  the  great  financial,  of  1*57,  44". 

—  the  great  religious,  of  1859,  456. 

—  the  great  petroleum,  of  1659,  476. 

—  the  great  patriotic,  of  1861,  501. 
EXECUTION,  the  first  in  California,  396. 
EXECUTION'S,    by    the   vigilance    committee   of  Cali- 
fornia, 400. 

EXETER  hall,  London,  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  defense 

of  the  Union  cause  in,  575. 
EXHIBITION,  the  great,  of  1853  in  Xew  York,  421. 

—  the  great  centennial  of  1876  in  Philadelphia,  689. 
EXPECTED  destruction  of  the  world,  the,  307. 
EXPEDITION,  Fremont's  to  the  Rocky  mountains,  285. 

—  of  Lieut.  Lynch  to  the  Dead  Sea  and  Jordan,  354. 
EXPLANATION  of  the  electric  light,  682. 

—  of  the  telephone,  684. 

—  of  the  phonograph,  685. 

—  of  the  microphone,  687. 

EXPLORATION  of   the   Dead  Sea  and  River  Jordan, 
Lynch's,  364. 

—  of  the  Eocky  mountains,  Fremont's,  286. 
EXPLOSION,  terrible,  of  Com.  Stockton's  monster  gun, 

on  the  Princeton,  319. 
EXPOSITION,  the  grand  centennial,  of  1876,  689. 

—  Pres.  Grant  and  Dom  Pedro  at  the,  692. 
EXPUNGING  resolution,  the  Benton,  passage  of,  In  U.  S. 

senate,  263. 

three  years  parliamentary  struggle  over  the,  268. 

EXTENSIVF.  earthquake  at  the  West,  of  1811, 156. 
EXTRAORDINARY,  combat  of  the  iron-dads,  Merrimac 

and  Monitor,  520. 

—  coincidence  as  to  the  first  and  last  battles  of  th« 
civil  war,  613. 

EXULTATION,  at  the  declaration  of  independence,  28. 

—  Rt  the  proclamation  of  emancipation,  550. 


FAO-SIMILE,  of  the  expunged  Jackson  resolution,  267. 

—  of  the  seal  of  the  vigilance  committee,  397. 

—  of  the  signature  of  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  706. 
FAILURES,  during  the  great  financial  panic  of  1857,448. 
FALL  of  Fort  Sumter,  505. 

—  of  Richmond,  607. 

FAMOUS  whiskey  insurrection  of  1794  in  Penn.,  106. 
FAREWELL  words  of  Washington  to  his  army,  67. 

of  Washington's  mother  to  Washington,  8fi. 

of  President  Monroe  to  Lafayette.  195. 

—  of  Gen.  Lee  to  his  officers,  613. 

—  message  of  the  murderer  Booth  to  his  mother,  626. 
FARMER,  Prof.,  invention  of  the  electric  light  by,  682. 
XARNSWOBTH,  Gen.,  at  the  dedication  of  the  monu- 
ment on  the  battle  field  of  Bull  Run,  525. 

FARRAOUT,  Adm.,  achievements  of,  at  New  Orleans,  689. 

—  hie  running  the   Confederate   batteries  at   Forta 
Jackson  and  St.  Philip,  590. 

—  his  gallant  action  in  Mobile  bay,  592. 

FARTING  and  prayer,  national  day  of,  during  the  great 
pestilence  of,  1849,  369. 

FATAL  duel  between  Aaron  Burr  and  Alexander  Ham- 
ilton, 127. 

FATHF.R  Mathnw.  his  visits  to  the  United  States,  281. 

FF.T>KRAL  conatitntion,  its  formation  and  adoption,  77. 

ir.r.l.T,.  Cyras  W.p  at  laying  of  the  Atlantic  cable,  63C. 


•'FIFTEENTH  amendment,"  adoption  of  the,  552. 
FILLMORE,  President,  at  the  laying  of  the  corner  stone 

of  the  capitol  extension,  118. 
FINANCIAL  crisis,  the  great  of,  1857,  447. 
FIRE,  the  great  Chicago,  653. 
FIRST  American  cardinal,  676. 

—  election  of  president  of  the  United  States,  85. 

—  engagement  of  the  civil  war,  518. 

—  execution  in  California,  396. 

—  gun  of  the  great  rebellion,  502. 

—  minister  to  England,  71. 

—  naval  victory  of  the  United  States,  35. 

—  occupation  of  a  foreign  capital  by  U.  S.  army,  .S&3. 

—  orienta'  embassy,  485. 

—  squadron  combat  of  the  U.  S.  navy,  163. 

—  steamboat  in  American  waters,  150. 

—  steam  railway,  646. 

—  telegraphic  message  over  an  established  line,  249. 

—  telegraphic  message  through  the  Atlantic  cable,  634. 
FLAG,  the  first  display  of  a  U.  S.  naval,  32. 

—  description  of  the  first  U.  S.  naval  ensign,  33. 

—  the  British,  first  striking  of,  at  sea,  to  the  U.  S.,  38. 

—  the  fall  of  the  U.  S..  at  Fort  Sumter,  504. 

—  the  restoration  of  the  U.  S.,  at  Fort  Sumter,  615. 
FLIGHT  of  Jefferson  Davis,  after  Lee's  surrender,  6! 4. 

of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  after  his  crime,  625. 

FOOT,  Senator,  the  famous  resolution  of,  206. 
FOOTE,  Admiral,  his  naval  services,  861. 
FORD'S  theater  Washington,  D.  C.,  618. 

scene  in,  at  the  assassination  of  Lincoln,  620. 

FORMATION  of  the  federal  constitution,  77. 
FOHT  Fisher,  Admiral  Porter's  victory  at,  697. 

—  McAllister,  fall  of,  605. 

—  Moultrie,  in  the  operations  at  Charleston,  503. 

—  Sumter,  bombardment  of,  501. 

gallant  defense  of,  by  Gen.  Rob.  Anderson,  602. 

evacuation  of,  by  the  United  States  garrison,  606. 

restoration  of  the  U.  S.  flag  to,  615. 

FORTIFICATIONS,  at  Vicksburg,  564. 

FOUNDING  of  the  national  capital,  112. 

Fox  Sisters,  the  wonderful  mediums,  career  of  the,  342. 

FRANK  LIN,  Benjamin,  pleading  for  pacification,  PI. 

—  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  620. 
FREE,  popular  education,  progress  of,  667. 
FREEDOM  of  the  slaves,  Lincoln's  proclamation  of,  644. 
FREDERICK  the  Great,  his  eulogy  of  Washington,  126 
FREMONT,  John  C.,  his  expedition  to  the  Rocky  moon 

tains,  285. 
FULTON,  Robert,  the  early  life  of,  150. 

—  the  invention  of  the  steamboat  by,  161. 

—  the  first  pecuniary  reward  of,  164. 
FUNERAL  of  Geo.  Washington,  123. 

—  of  Abraham  Lincoln,  617. 

G. 

GAI.K,  the  memorable,  of  1115, 178. 

its  havoc  on  land  and  sea,  179. 

the  singular  phenomena  accompanying,  179. 

estimates  of  property  destroyed  by,  185. 

GARDINER,  "  Awful,"  the  revivalist  prize-fighter,  463. 
GEKERALS,  the  two  great,  face  to  face,  607. 
GERMANY,  letter  of  the  Emperor  of,  to  Pres.  Grant,  706 
GETTYSBURG,  the  three  days'  battle  at,  663. 

—  scene  at  the  height  of,  667. 

—  the  last  desperate  charge  of  the  Confederates  at,  668. 
GIBBS,  the  pirate,  career  of;  the  real  name  of,  222. 

—  his  war  on  the  commerce  of  all  nations.  224. 

—  his  capture,  execution  and  remorse,  227. 
GOLD,  the  discovery  of,  in  California,  360. 

—  Capt.  Suiter's  search  for,  363. 

—  James  W.  Marshall's  accidental  discovery  of,  364. 

—  the  great  emigration  to  the  land  of,  367. 


46 


INDEX. 


GOOD  TEMPLARS,  gathering  of,  at  the  centennial,  693. 
GRAND  AHMY  of  the  republic,  at  the  ceuteimial,  693. 

—  balls  to  Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Walee,  498,  499. 

—  dinner  given  by  Washington  to  Comwallis,  61. 

—  march  of  Sherman's  army  through  the  South,  599. 
GRANGERS,  the  national  organization  of,  660. 

—  the  principles,  aims  and  extent  of,  661. 
GRANT,  Ulysses  S.,  victory  of,  at  Vicksburg,  564,. 

—  surrender  of  the  Confederate  army  to,  CIS. 

—  his  election  to  the  presidency  of  the  U.  S.,  614. 

—  inauguration  of  the  exposition  of  1876,  by,  692. 
GREAT  whiskey  insurrection  in  Pennsylvania,  105. 

—  debate  between  Webster  and  Hayue,  205. 

—  struggle  for  the  right  of  petition  in  congress,  252. 

—  temperance  reformation  of  1*10, 1276. 

—  awakening  in  the  religious  world  In  1867,  456. 

—  conflagration  at  Chicago,  653. 
GREATEST  defeat  and  victory  in  Indian  wars,  91. 

—  new  year's  present  of  the  century,  547. 

H. 

HALL  of  Independence,  Philadelphia,  1776,  27. 
HALLS  of  the  Montezumas,  Gen.  Scott  in  the,  362. 
HAMILTON,  Alexander,  the  public  life  of,  127. 

—  his  fatal  duel  with  Aaron  Burr,  127. 

—  his  testimony  against  dueling,  132. 

—  the  funeral  obsequies  of.  133. 

—  the  meeting  of  the  widow  of,  with  Aaron  Burr,  133. 
HAMMOND,  E.  P.,  the  revival  preacher,  460. 
HAMPTON  KOADB,  the  combat  of  the  iron-clads  in,  526. 
HANCOCK,  John,  his  signature  to  the  declaration  of  in- 
dependence, 31. 

HAROLD,  the  trial,  conviction  and  execution  of,  628. 
HAKPEH'S  FERRY,  the  surrender  of,  536. 
HARRISON,  Gen.,  his  victory  over  Tecuniseh,  170. 
HART,  Sergeant,  gallant  action  of,  at  Fort  Sumter,  506. 

—  raising  the  flag  at  Sumter  after  the  war,  615. 
HARTFORD,  battle  of  the,  with  the  Tennessee,  594. 
HARVARD  COLLEGE,  the  growth  of,  668. 

HATCH,  Cora  L.  V.,  the  noted  spiritual  medium,  346. 
HAYNE,  the  great  debate  of,  with  Webster,  206. 
HEAD-QUARTERS  of  General  Arnold,  53. 

—  of  Gen.  Meade  at  Gettysburg,  663. 
HKINTZELMAN,  Gen.,  the  division  of,  at  Bull  Run,  618. 
HKIR  to  the  British  throne,  his  tour  of  the  U.  S.,  493. 
HENRY,  Patrick,  the  eloquent  appeal  of,  26. 
HOOKER,  Gen.  Joseph,  at  Antietam,  636. 

HOLMES,  Oliver  Wendell,  his  tribute  to  etherization,  326,' 
HOME,  D.  D.,  the  celebrated  spiritual  medium,  343. 
HORRIBLE  DISASTER  on  board  the  Princeton,  319. 
HORRORS  of  the  whirlwind  of  1815, 183. 

—  of  the  cholera  visitations,  372. 

—  of  the  lynch  law  in  California,  396. 
HOUSE  where  Comwallis  surrendered,  65. 

—  In  which  spirit  rappings  originated,  341. 

—  where  President  Lincoln  died,  621. 

—  of  President  Lincoln  at  Springfield,  111.,  623. 

—  remaining  after  the  conflagration  of  Chicago,  664. 

—  in  which  Thomas  Jefferson  wrote  the  declaration 
of  independence,  689. 

HOWARD,  Gen.,  his  service  with  Sherman's  army,  602. 
HORSE  TAMING,  astonishing  feats  of  Prof.  Earey  in,  609. 

Queen  Victoria  at  Barey's  exhibition  of,  613. 

HOWB,  Ellas,  his  invention  of  the  sewing  machine,  332. 
HUMBOLDT,  his  tribute  to  an  American  explorer,  290. 
HUNTHR,  Gen.,  division  of,  at  battle  of  Bull  Run,  618. 

I. 

INAUGURATION  of  Washington  as  first  president,  86. 

—  bible  used  at  the,  85. 

INDEPENDENCE,  the  declaration  of  American.  26. 


INDEPENDENCE,  the  causes  which  led  to,  26. 

eloquence  of  Patrick  Henry  in  support  of,  2& 

resolution  of  Kichard  Henry  Lee  for,  26. 

original  draft  of,  the  maker  of  the.  26. 

speech  of  John  Adams  upon,  26. 

views  of  Washington  as  to,  26. 

the  scenes  following  the  proclamation  of,  28. 

—  —  enthusiasm  of  the  people  upon,  28. 

—  —  the  reception,  by  foreign  powers  of,  29. 

the  final  accomplishment  of  the  purpose  of,  31. 

centennial  celebration  of,  698. 

the  centennial  reading  of  the  original  of,  699, 

—  hall  at  Philadelphia,  July  4,  1876,  695. 

INDIAN  WAES,  the  greatest  defeats  and  victories  in,  91. 

defeat  of  St.  Clair  by  "  Little  Turtle  "  in  the,  94. 

^-  —  victories  of  Mad  Anthony  Wayne  in,  96. 

Gen.  Jackson's  ending  of  the,  97. 

INDUSTRY  of  all  nations,  great  exhibition  of  the.  In 
New  York,  421. 

—  the  objects  of  the  society  of  Sovereigns  of,  6C6. 
INSURRECTION,  the  famous  whiskey,  in  Penn.,  106. 

—  —  the  origin  and  motto  of,  106. 

—  —  the  suppression  of,  by  Washington  and  Lee,  11C. 
INTERIOR  of  the  World's  fair  of  1853  in  New  York,  421. 

—  of  Fort  Sumter  after  the  bombardment,  607. 

—  of  the  tower  of  the  Monitor,  526. 
INTERNATIONAL  KEGATTA.won  by  "the  America,"  40S. 
INTERVIEW  of  John  Adams  with  the  King  and  Qoeon 

of  England,  73. 

—  between  Aaron  Burr  and  his  pursuers,  147. 

—  of  Gen.  Washington  and  Lafayette,  first,  187. 

—  of  Lafayette  and  Ked  Jacket,  1!H. 

—  of  Jenny  Lind  and  P.  T.  Barnum,  first,  390. 

—  of  the  Japanese  embassy  and  Pres.  Buchanan,  488. 

—  of  Grant  and  Pemberton  before  Vicksburg,  660, 

—  of  Generals  Grant  and  Lee  after  the  last  battle,  MT. 
INTENTION  of  the  cotton  gin  by  Whitney,  98. 

—  of  the  electric  telegraph  hy  Morse,  244. 

—  of  the  sewing  machine  by  Howe,  332. 

—  of  the  electric  light  by  Farmer,  681. 

—  of  the  telephone  by  Bell,  684. 

—  of  the  phonograph  by  Edison,  686. 

—  of  the  microphone  by  Edison,  687. 
INVITATION  to  Lafayette,  by  Congress,  to   visit  the 

United  States  as  the  guest  of  the  nation,  189. 

—  to  Kossuth  to  take  refuge  in  America,  414. 

—  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  visit  the  United  St»t««, 
by  President  Buchanan,  493. 

IRON-CLADS,  the  combats  of  the,  626,  631. 

J. 

JACKSON,  Gen.,  his  decisive  victory  over  the  Indians.  97 

—  victory  of,  at  New  Orleans,  171. 

—  the  generalship  of,  172. 

—  ending  of  the  war  of  1812  by,  176. 

—  "  conqueror  of   Napoleon'*   conquerors,"  bow  he 
won  the  title  of,  177. 

—  attempted  assassination  of,  238. 

—  the  expunging  of  the  resolutions  of  cenanre  of,  267, 

—  Dr.  Charles  T.,  his  claim  to  the  ether  invention,  326. 

—  General  Stonewall,  at  Antietam,  640. 

JAPAN,  the  first  treaty  of  peace  and  commerce  with,  *fl?. 
JAPANESE,  the   first  embassy  to  a   foreign  power  of 
the,  485. 

—  manner  of  bearing  the  treaty,  485. 

—  ambassadors,  description  of  the,  486. 

—  Tommy,  the  petting  of,  by  the  American  ladies,  491. 
JEFFERSON,  Thomas,  his  draft  of  tho  declaration  of 

independence,  26. 

JEFFERSON  DAVIS,  flight  of,  after  Lee's  surrender,  614. 
JRNNY  LIND,  hermusical  tourinthe  United  Statne,  386 

—  her  first  appearance,  in  opera,  387. 


INDEX. 


747 


JBNNY  LIND,  her  muiical  career,  388. 

—  her  first  concert  in  the  United  States,  390. 

—  her  generous  gift  to  the  poor  in  New  York,  391. 

—  the  furor  over,  3J1. 

—  her  duet  with  Daniel  WebHer,  393. 

—  her  pecuniary  success  in  the  United  States,  394. 
JONES,  John  Paul,  Commodore,  history  of,  32. 

—  the  first  display  of  an  United  States  ensign  by,  33. 

—  his  capture  of  the  Serapis,  3G. 

JORDAN,  the  exploration  of  the  river,  by  Lynch,  354. 

—  the  waters  and  fishes  of  the  river,  365. 

—  the  banks  and  scenery  of  the,  35G. 

—  description  of  the  valley  of  the,  357. 
JULY  4,  1776,  the  **jnte]inial  celebration  of,  698. 

K. 

KEARSARGE,  capture  of  the  Alabama  by  the,  586. 
KELLY,  O.  H.,  one  of  the  founders  of  the   National 

Grange  organization,  661. 
KEVES,  Gen.,  the  brigade  of,  at  Bull  Run,  620. 
KILPATBICK,  Gen.,  the  battle  flag  of,  at  Gettysburg,  570. 
KINDS  of  spiritual  manifestations,  Judge   Edmoud's 

definition  of  the  several,  345. 
KING  GEORGE  III.,  his  reception  of  the  first  ambassa- 

dor from  the  United  States,  74. 

—  Frederick  William,  tribute  of,  to  Fremont,  290. 
KING'S  College,  old,  view  of,  668. 

KIRK,  Kdward  N.,  the  revivalist,  657, 

KIT  CAKSON,  the  companion  and  guide  of  Fremont  in 

the  Kocky  mountains,  286. 
KNAPP,  Jacob,  the  revivalist,  460. 
KNIGHTS  TEMPLARS,  assembly  of,  at  Phila.  in  1876,  693. 

—  of  Pythias,  parade  of  the,  at  the  centennial,  693. 
KNOWLEDGE  of  rock  oils  among  the  early  Indians,  476. 
KOSSUTH,  the  visit  of,  to  the  United  States,  412. 

—  biography  of,  413. 

—  l)aniel  Webster's  laudation  of,  418. 

—  eloquence  :i  iid  characteristics  of,  417. 


LABOR  ORGANIZATIONS,  history  of  the,  660. 
LAFAYETTE,  gallantry  of,  at  Yorktowu,  56. 

—  his  early  soldier  life,  187. 

—  his  reception  by  Gen.  Washington,  188. 

—  his  gallant  services  in  the  revolution,  189. 

—  his  visit  to  the  United  States  as  the  guest  of  the  na- 
tion, by  invitation  of  congress,  189. 

—  his  last  visit  to  the  United  States,  190, 

—  his  interview  with  Red  Jacket,  194. 

—  his  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Washington,  194. 

—  his  parting  interview  with  President  Monroe,  195. 
LAKE  ERIE,  the  great  naval  combat  on,  163. 
LAKES  formed  by  the  great  earthquake  of  1811,  160. 
LAST  hours  and  words  of  Gen.  Washington,  119. 

—  words  written  by  President  Lincoln,  619. 
LATTER-DAY  SAINTS,  origin  and  tenets  of,  216. 
LAYING  the  corner  stone  of  the  national  capital,  116. 

—  the  corner  stone  of  Bunker  Hill  monument,  192. 

—  the  Atlantic  telegraphic  cable,  630. 

LEE,  Gen.  Henry,  his  suppression  of  the  great  whiskey 
insurrection  in  Pennsylvania,  111. 

—  Gen.  Robert  E.,  at  Gettysburg,  564. 

—  his  surrender  to  Gen.  Grant  at  Appomatox,  612. 
LETTER  of  King  George  on  the  defeat  at  Yorktown,  60. 

—  last,  of  General  Washington,  120. 

—  congratulatory,  of  Emperor  William  of  Germany  to 
President  Grant,  705. 

—  of  Queen  Victoria  to  President  Buchanan,  494. 
LIFE  among  the  gold-diggers  of  California,  367. 
LINCOLN,  Abraham,  his  great  debate  with  Douglas,  469. 

—  his  election  to  the  presidency,  475. 


LINCOLN,  his  emancipation  proclamation,  S44. 

—  and  his  cabinet  discussing  emancipation,  549. 

—  his  visit  to  Richmond  after  Lee's  surrender,  613. 

—  the  murderous  assault  of  J.  Wilkes  Booth  upon,  617. 

—  the  prophetic  dream  of,  618. 

—  the  scene  at  the  death-bed  of,  621. 

—  last  words  written  by,  619. 

—  the  funeral  obsequies  of,  623. 

LIND,  Jenny,  the  musical  tour  in  America  of,  386. 
"  LITTLE  TURTLE,"  his  victory  over  St.  Clair,  95. 
LOCOMOTIVE,  the  first  use  of  the,  646. 
LONDON,  celebration  of  the  American  centennial  in,  703. 
LONGSTREET,  Gen.,  at  the  battle  of  Antietam,  569. 
Loss  of  the  steamer  Arctic  by  collision  at  mid-day,  429. 
LOSSES  of  the  two  contending  armies  at  Bull  Run,  526. 
LOT'S  WIFE,  discovered  by  Lynch's  expedition,  359. 
LYNCH  LAW,  reign  of,  in  California  in  1851,  395. 
LYNCH,  Lieut.,  expedition  of,  to  the  Dead  Sea,  354. 
LYELL,  Prof.,  his  account  of  the  great  earthquake,  180. 

M. 

MACHINERY  building,  at  the  centennial  of  1876,  693. 
MAFFIT,  John  N.,  the  revivalist,  456. 
MAGNIFICENT  AURORA  BOREALIS  of  1837,  269. 
MALIGNANT  EPIDEMICS,  visits  of,  to  the  U.  S.,  368. 
MANASSAS,  battle  of,  517. 

MANCHESTER,  attempts  to  silence  Beecher  in,  574. 
MANIFESTATIONS,  spiritual,  accounts  of,  344. 
MANSFIELD,  Gen.,  death  of,  at  Antietam,  536. 
MANUSCRIPT  of  the  emancipation  proclamation,  544. 
MARCH  of  General  Sherman's  army  to  the  sea,  598. 
MARINE  DISASTER,  terrible,  to  the  Arctic,  428. 
MARSHALL,  accidental  discovery  of  gold  by,  364. 
MASONIC  CEREMONIES  at  the  national  capital,  115. 
MASSACHUSETTS,  Webster's  eulogy  of,  209. 
MATHEW,  Father,  his  temperance  mission,  281. 
McCLELLAN,  Gen.,  at  Antietam,  536. 
MCCLOSKEY,  Archbishop,  first  American  cardinal,  (75. 
— •  —  consecration  of,  676. 
MCDOWELL,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Rnn,  518. 
MCLEAN,  first  and  last  battle  of  the  civil  war  fought  on 

the  farm  of,  613. 

MCPHERSON,  Gen.,  the  surrender  of  Vicksburg  to,  560. 
MEADE,  Gen.,  at  Gettysburg,  563. 
MEDIUMS,  spiritual,  accounts  of  the  great,  342. 
MEIGS,  the  volunteer  generalship  of  the  young  son  of 

Gen..  524. 

MEMBERS  of  the  first  constitutional  convention,  78. 
MERRIMAC  AND  MONITOR,  combat  of  the,  526. 
MESSAGE,  the  first  telegraphic,  249. 

—  the  first  from  Europe,  over  the  Atlantic  cable,  634. 
MESSAGES  between  the  President  and  the  Queen,  634. 
METEORIC  SHOWER  of  1833,  the  great,  228. 

the  extent  covered  by  the,  229. 

the  changes  of  weather  wrought  by  the,  231. 

theories,  scientific  and  superstitious,  as  to,  233. 

METROPOLITAN  ELEVATED  RAILWAY  in  N  Y.,  662. 
MEXICO,  conquests  of  Gens.  Scotland  Taylor  in,  347-353. 

—  the  American  army  entering  the  capital  of,  352. 
MICROPHONE,  the  invention  of  the,  by  Edison,  681. 
MID-OCEAN,  collision  of  steamers  at  noonday  in,  428. 

—  union  of  the  telegraphic  cables  in,  629. 
MILLER,  William,  Rev.,  the  latter-day  prophet,  307. 
MINING  OPERATIONS  in  California,  360. 
MINISTER  TO  ENGLAND,  the  first  American,  70. 
MINNESOTA,  combat  of,  with  the  Merrimac,  529. 
MIRACLES  OF  SCIENCE,  the  four,  680. 

MOBILE  BAY,  exploits  of  Admiral  Farragut  in,  694, 
MODERN  locomotive,  the,  647. 

—  railway  car,  the,  649. 

MONITOR  AND  MERRIMAC,  battle  between  th«,  524. 
MONROE,  Pres.,  parting  addrest  of,  to  Lafayette,  196. 


748 


INDEX. 


MONTEHEV,  Gen.  Taylor's  victory  at,  348. 
MONUMENT  to  Alexander  Hamilton,  127. 

—  laying  the  corner  stone  of  Bunker  Hill,  192. 

—  to  the  discovery  of  etherization,  330. 

—  to  the  victims  of  cholera,  370. 

—  soldiers',  the,  at  Gettysburg,  571. 

MOODY  AND  SANKEY,  the  great  revivalists,  456. 
MORMOX  TEMPLE  at  Nauvoo,  description  of  the,  221. 
MORMONS,  the  rise  and  progress  of  the,  214. 

—  origin  of  the  sect  of,  215. 

—  their  leaders  and  theology,  216. 

—  the  first  church  of  the,  217. 

—  proselyting  in  Europe  by  the,  219. 

—  murder  of  Lieut.  Gov.  Boggs  by  the,  219, 

—  Brigham  Young's  connection  with  the,  220. 

—  Salt  Lake  City,  the  Zion  of  the,  description  of,  221. 
MORSE,  Prof.,  his  invention  of  the  telegraph,  244. 

—  his  trials,  troubles  and  triumphs,  245. 
MORTON,  Dr.,  his  claim  to  the  ether  invention,  326. 
MORTALITY  from  the  Asiatic  cholera,  369. 
MOUNTAINS,  Rocky,  Fremont's  expedition  to  the,  288. 
MOUNT  VERNON,  visit  of  Lafayette  to,  194. 

.  the  Prince  of  Wales  at,  496. 

MURDER  of  Dr.  Parkman  by  Prof.  Webster,  376. 

—  of  Samuel  Adams  by  John  C.  Colt,  384. 
MUSICAL  TOUR  of  Jenny  Lind  in  the  United  States,  386. 
MUTINY,  first  in  the  U.  S.  navy,  on  the  Somers,  290. 
MYSTERIOUS  DARK  DAY  of  1780,  40. 


N. 

NAPOLEON,  his  eulogy  of  Washington,  124. 
NARRATIVE  of  the  eclipse  of  1806,  Cooper's,  135. 
NARROW  ESCAPE  of  Pres.  Jackson  from  an  assassin,  236. 

of  President  Tyler  at  Princeton  explosion,  317. 

NATIONAL  CAPITAL,  founding  of  the,  112. 

bitter  sectional  contest  as  to  its  location,  113. 

the  reasons  for  selection  of  present  site  of  the,  115. 

NATIONAL  CAPITOL,  Washington  and  the  Freemasons 
laying  the  corner  stone  of  the,  116. 

Webster  laying  the  comer  stone  of  the  exten- 
sion of  the,  118. 

NATIONAL  ENSIGN,  first  display  of  a  naval,  33. 
NATIONAL  GRANGE  ORGANIZATION,  history  of  the,  660. 
NAVAL  VICTORY,  the  first  United  States,  32. 

Commodore  John  Paul  Jones's  great,  38. 

Commodore  Perry's,  on  Lake  Erie,  163. 

of  the  Monitor  over  the  Merrimac,  526. 

of  the  Kearsarge  over  the  Alabama,  587. 

NAVIGATION,  by  steam,  first,  of  American  waters,  153. 
NEGRO  SLAVES,  the  emancipation  of  the,  544. 

rejoicing  of,  over  their  freedom,  550. 

NEW  MEXICO,  the  acquisition  of,  353. 

NEW  ORLEANS,  victory  of  Gen.  Jackson  at,  176. 

achievements  of  Admiral  Farragut  at,  590. 

NEW  REPUBLIC,  the  birth  of  the,  25. 

centennial  commemorations  of,  689. 

NEWS,  of  the  declaration  of  independence,  reception  at 
home  and  abroad,  of  the,  28. 

—  of  the  fall  of  Sumter,  effect  of  the,  508. 

—  of  the  surrender  of  Lee,  effect  of  the,  607. 

—  the  first  sent  over  the  Atlantic  cable,  634. 
NEW  WONDERS  of  the  world,  the  four,  680. 
NEW  York,  arrival  of  Lafayette  in,  190. 

grand  military  reception  of  Kossuth  in,  416. 

great  industrial  exhibition  of  1853,  in,  421. 

great  financial  panic  of  1857,  in,  451. 

grand  ball  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  in,  498. 

NOMINATION  of  Washington  as  General,  64. 

—  of  Abraham  Lincoln  to  the  presidency,  475. 
NORMAL  SCHOOL  in  New  York,  670. 
NORTH,  the  great  uprising  of  the,  508. 


NORTH-WEST,  Fremont's  expedition  to  the  far,  286. 
NORTH-WESTERN  university,  the,  669. 

o. 

OATH,  administering  of  the,  to  Washington,  89. 

—  of  Lincoln  as  to  emancipation,  548. 
OBJECTIONS,  religious,  against  aiuesthetics,  325. 
OBJECTS  of  the  Grange  and  Labor  organizations,  326. 
OBSEQUIES  of  President  Washington,  123. 

—  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  133. 

—  of  President  Lincoln,  623. 

OBSERVATIONS,  scientific,  of  the  total  eclipse  of  1SOO,  137. 
OBSTINACY  of  Geo.  III.  as  to  American  affairs,  71. 
OCCUPATION  of  the  Mexican  capital  by  United  States' 
't    troops,  346. 

OCEAN,  loss  of  the  Arctic  by  noonday  collision  in  mid, 429. 
ODD  FELLOWS,  parade  of,  at  Philadelphia,  in  1*76,  693. 
ODE,  Bayard  Taylor's  centennial,  recited  at  Phil.,  690. 
OHIO,  first  steamboat  on  the  river,  193. 

—  establishment  of  the  Mormons  in,  218. 

OIL  regions  of  Penn.,  Ky.,  Ohio  and  Canada,  478. 

—  rock,  the  use  of,  by  the  early  Indians,  476. 
ONWARD  MOVEMENT,  the  first  of  the  loyal  army,  518. 
OPENING  act  of  the  civil  war,  501. 

—  of  the  exhibition  of  1876  at  Philadelphia,  691. 
OPERATIONS  at  Vicksburg,  554. 

ORATIONS,  Daniel  Webster's  at  the  laying  of  the  corner 
stone  of  Bunker  Hill  monument,  192. 

—  Daniel  Webster's  at  the  laying  of  the  corner  stone 
of  the  capitol  extension,  118. 

—  of  William  M.  Evarts,  at  centennial  celebration,  698. 
ORATORICAL  championship  of  America's  cause  in  Eng- 
land, by  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  573. 

—  powers  of  Kossuth,  Webster's  laudation  of  the,  418. 

—  powers  of  Webster,  Everett's  testimony  to  the,  210. 
ORDERS  OF  GLORY,  conferred  on  Professor  Morse,  250. 
OREGON,  the  exploring  tour  of  Fremont  in,  285. 
ORIENTAL  PRINCES,  at  the  White  House,  486. 
ORIGINAL  steam  car,  the,  648. 

—  telegraphic  instrument,  the.  246. 
OVATION,  in  the  United  States  to  Lafayette,  1£6. 
OVATIONS  to  Washington  on  his  journey  to  his  inaugu- 
ration, 86. 

P. 

PACIFIC  RAILROAD,  the  construction  of  the,  637. 
PALACE,  the  Crystal, opening  of  the,  in  New  York,  420. 
PALO  ALTO,  Gen.  Taylor's  victory  at,  488. 
PANIC  during  the  great  earthquake  of  1M1, 158. 

—  during  the  prevalence  of  the  Asiatic  cholera,  369. 

—  the  great  financial,  of  1857,  447. 

—  exciting  and  amusing  scenes  during  financial,  449. 

—  at  Bull  Run,  521. 

PARIS,  celebration  of  the  American  centennial  in,  703. 
PARKMAN,  Dr.,  murder  of,  by  Prof.  Webster,  376. 
PARTING  of  Gen.  Washington  with  his  army,  67. 

—  of  Washington  with  his  mother,  86. 

—  of  President  Monroe  with  Lafayette,  195. 

—  of  Gen.  Lee  and  his  army,  613. 

PASSAGE  MONEY,  the  first  paid  on  a  steamboat,  164. 
PAYNE,  triai,  conviction  and  execution  of,  627. 
PEJIBERTON,  Gen.,  Interview  of,  with  Gen.  Grant,  558. 

—  surrender  of  Vicksburg  by,  660. 
PENNSYLVANIA,  the  great  whiskey  insurrection  in,  105. 

—  the  great  petroleum  excitement  in,  476. 
PERRY,  Commodore,  his  victory  on  Lake  Erie,  162. 
PETITION,  the  great  debate  upon  the  right  of,  252. 

—  by  slaves,  for  the  perpetuation  of  slavery,  255. 

—  for  the  dissolution  of  the  Union,  by  Massachusetts 
citizens,  267. 

PETROLEUM,  the  great  excitement  over,  in  1869,  476. 


INDEX. 


•49 


PETROLEUM,  wells  of.  in  Pennsylvania,  478. 

—  welia  of,  in  Kentucky,  Ohio  and  Canada.  470. 

—  origin  and  source  of,  opinions  of  Professors  Dana 
and  Silllman  as  to  the,  483. 

—  the  early  knowledge  and  use  of,  by  the  Indians,  476. 
PHILADELPHIA,  the  great  exposition  of  1876  at,  689. 
PHENOMENA  during  the  great  gale  of  1815, 179. 

—  of  the  dark  day  of  1780,  42. 

—  of  the  noonday  total  eclipse  of  1S06,  135. 
PHONOCJHAPII,  the  invention  of  the,  by  Edison,  681. 
PIRATV  of  James  D.  Jeffers,  alias  Gibbs,  '££2. 
PLOT  of  Benedict  Arnold  to  deliver  West  Point,  49. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr  to  establish  an  American  empire,  143. 

—  of  Booth  ami  others  to  assassinate  the  chief  offi- 
cers of  the  government,  627. 

POLITICAL    DEBATE,  the  great,  between  Lincoln  and 

Douglas.  4<>'.i. 

POPE  OF  ROME,  official  letter  of,  679. 
POPULAR  SOVEREIGNTY,  Douglas's  advocacy  of,  470. 

—  labor  organizations,  purposes  and  progress  of,  660. 

—  education,  progress  of.  in  the  United  States.  667. 
PORTER,  Admiral,  his  victory  at  Fort  Fisher,  597. 

—  Gen.  Fitz  John,  at  Antietam,  540. 
POTOMAC,  the  army  of  the.  at  the  centennial,  693. 
POTTER,  John  D.,  the  revivalist,  account  of,  460. 
PORTRAIT  of  Commodore  John  Paul  Jones,  34. 

—  of  Gen.  Benedict  Arnold,  51. 

—  of  Lord  Cornwallis,  61. 

—  of  George  III  of  England.  71. 

—  of  President  John  Adams,  74. 

—  of  Mad  Anthony  Wayne,  95. 

—  of  St.  Clair,  96. 

—  of  "  Little  Turtle,"  the  Miami  chief,  97. 

—  of  Eli  Whitney,  102. 

—  of  David  Bradford,  109. 

—  of  Gen.  Henry  Lee,  111. 

—  of  Martha  Washington,  120. 

—  of  George  Washington,  as  colonel,  123. 

—  of  George  Washington,  as  general,  124. 

—  of  George  Washington,  as  president,  124. 

—  of  Gen.  Alexander  Hamilton,  128. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr,  129. 

—  of  Theodosia,  daughter  of  Aaron  Burr,  148. 

—  of  Robert  Fulton,  151. 

—  of  Commodore  Oliver  Hazard  Perry,  165. 

—  of  President  William  Henry  Harrison,  170. 

—  of  President  Andrew  Jackson,  174. 

—  of  Gen.  Lafayette.  188. 

—  of  Senator  Henry  Clay,  198. 

—  of  Senator  John  Randolph,  200. 

—  of  Senator  Robert  T.  Hayne,  207. 

—  of  Senator  Daniel  Webster,  209. 

—  of  Joseph  Smith,  the  Mormon,  216. 

—  of  Brigham  Young,  the  Mormon,  218. 

—  of  Gibbs,  the  pirate,  224. 

—  of  Lawrence,  the  lunatic  assailant  of  Jackson,  240. 

—  of  Prof.  Morse,  inventor  of  the  telegraph,  24*. 

—  of  President  John  Quincy  Adams,  254. 

—  of  Senator  Thomas  H.  Benton,  265. 

—  of  Gen.  John  C.  Fremont,  288. 

—  of  Capt.  Alex.  Slidell  Mackenzie.  293. 

—  of  Midshipman  Philip  Spencer,  the  mutineer,  295. 

—  of  Rev.  William  Miller,  the  prophet,  313. 

—  of  President  John  Tyler,  316. 

—  of  Hon.  Thos.  W.  Gilmer,  secretary  of  the  navy,  318. 

—  of  Hon.  A.  P.  TTpshur,  secretary  of  state,  320. 

—  of  Commodore  R.  F.  Stockton,  322. 

—  of  Dr.  T.  C.  Jackson,  326. 

—  of  Dr.  Horace  Wells,  326. 

—  of  Dr.  William  T.  C.  Morton,  326. 

—  of  Ellas  Howe,  inventor  of  the  sewing  machine,  334. 

—  of  Catherine  Fox,  the  medium.  342. 

—  of  Margaretta  Fox,  the  medium,  342. 


I    PORTRAIT  of  D.  D.  Home,  the  spiritualist,  34S. 

—  of  Cora  L.  V.  Hatch,  the  spiritualist,  346. 

—  of  Andrew  Jackson  Davis,  the  spiritualist,  ->4a. 

—  of  Judge  Edmonds,  the  spiritualist,  345. 

—  of  President  James  K.  Polk,  348. 

—  of  President  Zachary  Taylor,  349. 

—  of  Gen.  Santa  Anna,  350. 

—  of  Gen.  Wiufleld  Scott,  351. 

—  of  Lieut.  \V.  F.  Lynch,  the  Dead  Sea  exyijr»r,  356. 

—  of  John  A.  Sutler,  the  pioneer  of  California,  363. 

—  of  James  W.  Marshall,  the  gold  discoverer,  365. 

—  of  Dr.  Parkman,  murdered  by  Prof.  Webster,  378. 

—  of  Prof.  Webster,  murderer  of  Dr.  Parkman,  3*0. 

—  of  Jenny  Lind.  388. 

—  of  P.  T.  Barnum,  390. 

—  of  Geo.  Steers,  designer  of  the  yacht  America.  »05. 

—  of  Louis  Kossuth,  the  Hungarian  exile,  413. 

—  of  Theodore  Sedgwick,  423. 

—  of  Senator  A.  P.  Butler  of  South  Carolina,  439. 

—  of  Senator  Charles  Sumner,  441. 

—  of  Preston  S.  Brooks  of  South  Carolina.  444. 

—  group,  of  »reat  revival  preachers,  Jacob  nnapp. 
C.  C.  Finney,  P.  Cartwright,  J.  N.  Maffitt,  E.  .N.  Kirn. 

E.  P.  Hammond,  A.  B.  Earle,  J.  D.  Potter,  -iov. 
of  Dwight  L.  Moody  and  Jra  D.  Sankey,  464. 

—  of  Senator  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  474. 

—  of  Albert  Edward,  Prince  of  Wales,  495. 

—  of  Major  Robert  Anderson,  503. 

—  of  Gen.  G.  T.  Beauregard,  505. 

—  of  John  S.  Rarey,  the  horse  tamer,  51 1. 

—  of  Gen.  Irwin  McDowell,  519. 

—  of  Gen.  J.  Johnston,  521. 

—  of  Com.  Frank  Buchanan,  528. 

—  of  Lieut.  John  L.  Worden,  533. 

—  of  Gen.  Geo.  B.  McClellan,  637. 

—  of  Gen.  A.  E.  Burnside,  538. 

—  of  Gen.  Stonewall  Jackson,  540 

—  of  Gen.  Joe  Hooker,  541. 

—  of  Hon.  Wm.  H.  Seward,  545. 

—  of  Hon.  Edwin  M.  Stanton,  646. 

—  of  President  Abraham  Lincoln,  647. 

—  of  Gen.  J.  C.  Pemberton,  666. 

—  of  Gen.  J.  B.  McPherson,  859. 

—  of  Gen.  G.  G.  Meade,  566. 

—  of  Gen.  James  Longstreet,  569. 

—  of  Capt.  Raphael  Semmes,  583. 

—  of  Capt.  John  A.  Winslow,  685. 

—  group,  of  Admirals  Farragut,  Porter,  Duponi  ano 
Foote,  591. 

—  of  Gen.  W.  T.  Sherman.  600. 

—  of  John  Wilkes  Booth,  the  assassin  of  Llnooln,  622. 

—  of  Sergeant  Boston  Corbett,  624. 

—  of  Cyrus  W.  Field,  631. 

—  of  Archbishop  McCloskey,  676. 

—  of  Thomas  A.  Edison,  684. 

—  of  Emperor  William  of  Germany,  707. 
POTTER,  John  D.,  the  revivalist  account  of,  460. 
POVERTY  of  Fulton  before  his  success,  154. 

—  of  Howe,  at  the  time  of  his  .nvention,  334. 
PRAYER  at  the  death-bed  of  Lincoln,  622. 

—  prevalence  of,  during  the  religious  revival,  1857, 467. 
PREACHERS,  eminent  revival,  of  the  century,  460. 
PREACHING,  peculiarities  of  the  prophet  Miller's,  312. 
PREPARATIONS  for  the  "last  day"  by  theMillerites,  311. 
PRESIDENTIAL  MANSION  in  1789  and  in  1876, 88. 
PRESIDENT,  election  of  the  first,  in  the  U.  S.,  84. 

—  unanimous  choice  of  George  Washington  as,  88. 

—  Washington's  address  in  accepting  the  office  of,  80. 

—  Washington's  Inauguration  as,  in  New  York,  88. 

—  Monroe's  parting  with  Lafayette,  IBS. 

—  Jackson's  narrow  escape  from  assassination,  236. 

—  Tyler's  narrow  escape  from  death.  317. 

—  Fillmore's  private  reception  of  Jenny  Lind,  398 


750 


INDEX. 


PMSIDENT  Fillmore's  reception  of  Kossuth,  418. 

—  Buchanan's  reception  of  the  Japanese  embassy,  488. 

—  Buchanan's  reception  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  496. 

—  Lincoln,  assassination  of,  by  J.  \Vilkes  Booth,  620. 

—  Grant  with  Emperor  of  Brazil  at  centennial,  692. 
PRICE  of  Arnold's  treason,  48. 

PRINCE  OF  WALES,  the  visit  of  the,  to  America,  493. 

—  letter  of  President  Buchanan  inviting  the,  493. 

—  letter  of  Queen  Victoria  concerning,  41)4. 

—  hi.-  reception  on  the  American  boundary  line,  494. 

—  his  receptions  in  Chicago,  St.  Louis  and  Cin.,  494, 495. 

—  his  visit  to  the  tomb  of  Washington,  496. 

—  his  visits  to  Richmond,  Baltimore  and  Phila.,  496. 

—  the  unexpected  international  embrace  of  the,  497. 

—  the  grand  balls  in  honor  of  the,  498,  499. 

—  the  military  reception  at  West  Point  of  the,  498. 

—  at  Albany,  Springfield  and  Boston,  499. 

—  his  appreciation  of  the  American  ladies,  600. 
PRINCES  OF  JAPAN,  visit  of  the,  to  the  U.S.,  488. 
PRINCETON,  the  terrible  accident  on  board  the,  315. 
PROCLAMATION  OF  EMANCIPATION,  the,  544. 

—  —  the  most  important  words  in,  547. 

—  —  Lincoin:s  estimate  of  the  importance  of,  548. 
PROPHECIES,  scriptural,  interpreted  by  Miller,  307. 

Q- 

QUEEN,  interview  of  John  Adams  with  the  British,  76. 

—  Victoria,  visit  of,  to  the  yacht  America,  411. 
letter  of,  to  President  Buchanan,  494. 

the  applause  of,  at  Karey's  exhibition  of  horse 

taming,  513. 

the  contribution  of,  to  centennial  exhibition,  696. 

QUARREL  of  Aaron  Burr  with  Alexander  Hamilton,  130. 
QUELLING  of  the  great  whiskey  insurrection  of  1794  by 

United  States  troops,  110. 

QUESTION  OF  SUPREMACY,  between  the  Indians  and 
the  whites,  Gen.  Jackson's  settlement  of  the,  97. 

R. 

RACE,  the  great  international  yacht,  description  of,  403. 
RAILROAD  to  the  Pacific,  construction  of  the,  637. 
RAILWAY,  amount  of,  built  in  the  half  century,  645. 

—  history  of  the  progress  of  the,  in  the  U.  S.,  646. 

—  the  first  locomotive  on  an  American,  648. 

—  the  European.  650. 

—  the  Metrooolitan  elevated,  652. 

RAIN,  the  gauge  of,  during  the  great  gale  of  1815, 185. 
RANDOLPH,  John,  his  duel  with  Henry  Clay,  196. 
RAKE v.  John  S.,  the  great  horse-tamer,  account  of,  609. 

—  his  feats  in  America  and  Europe,  510. 

—  Victoria's  applause,  at  the  exhibition  of,  513. 

—  his  method  of  taming,  515. 
RATIFICATION  of  the  constitution  by  the  states,  83. 

—  of  the  fifteenth  constitutional  amendment,  552. 
RAVAGES  of  the  cholera  and  yellow  fever  in  U.  S.,  368. 
READING  the  original  declaration  of  independence  to 

the  army  in  1776,  27. 

—  the  original  declaration  of  independence  in  Phila- 
delphia in  1876,  699. 

REBELLION,  the  great  Southern,  the  opening  act  of,  601. 

—  the  closing  scene  of,  612. 

—  the  first  and  last  battle  of,  fought  on  the  same 
man's  land,  613. 

RECEPTION  of  Lafayette  by  President  Monroe,  191. 

—  of  Jenny  Llnd  by  President  Fillmore,  393. 

—  of  Kossuth  by  the  United  States,  412. 

—  (Tand  military,  of  Kossuth  in  New  York,  417. 

—  of  th«  Japanese  embassy  by  Pres.  Buchanan,  487. 

—  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  by  Pres.  Buchanan,  496. 
R«D  JACKET,  interview  of,  with  Lafayette,  194. 
REFLECTION  of  the  great  comet  in  the  ocean,  303. 


REFORMATION,  the  great  temperance,  of  1?40.  276. 

—  its  origin,  apostles,  and  disciples,  277. 
REGATTA,  the  great  international  yacht,  at  Cowes,  403. 
REIGN  of  the  vigilance  committee  in  California,  395. 
RELIGIOUS  REVIVAL,  the  great,  of  11-57,  456. 

its  striking  moral  results,  464. 

REMARKABLE  coincidence  of  the  civil  war,  613. 

—  exception  of  a  single  house  from  the  great  confla- 
gration of  Chicago,  653. 

RENO,  Gen.,  death  of,  at  Antietam,  541. 

REPLY  of  John  Paul  Jones  to  British  commander,  34, 

—  of  George  III.  to  John  Adams,  74. 

—  of  Gen.  McClellan  to  Gen.  Burnside's  request  fo 
reinforcements  at  Antietam,  540. 

REPORTER,  Geo.  W.  Smalley,  the,  at  Antietam,  542. 
REPOSSESSION  of  Fort  Sumter  by  U.  S.  governm't,  615. 
REPUBLIC,  the  birth  of  the  new,  in  1776,  25. 

—  centennial  celebration  in  1876  of  the,  689. 
RESACA  DE  LA  PALMA,  Gen.  Taylor's  victory  at,  348. 
RESIDENCE  of  Lafayette,  181. 

—  of  President  Lincoln  at  Springfield,  111.,  623. 
RESIGNATION  of  command  by  Washington,  66. 

—  and  re-election  to  congress  of  Preston  S.  Brooks,  444 
RESOLUTION  of  independence,  Richard  Henry  Lee's,  21 

—  of  censure  of  Jackson,  expunging  of  the,  252. 
RESTORATION  of  the  U.  S.  flag  to  Fort  Sumter,  614. 
REVIVAL,  the  great  religious,  of  1857,  456. 
REVIVALISTS,  the  great,  404. 

REYNOLDS,  Gen.,  at  Gettysburg,  564. 
RICHARDSON,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Kun,  518. 
RICHMOND,  the  fall  of,  607. 
RIGHT  OF  PETITION,  the  struggle  for  the,  252. 

the  eleven  days'  debate  upon  the,  261. 

RINGING  OF  THE  BELL,  July  4, 1776, 25. 
RISE  and  progress  of  the  Mormons,  214. 
RIOT,  the  great  whiskey,  in  Pennsylvania,  105. 
"  ROCHESTER  KNOCKINGS,"  account  of  the,  340. 
ROCK  OIL,  early  knowledge  of,  by  the  Indians,  476. 

—  the  great  excitement  of  1859  upon  discovery  of,  478. 
ROCKY  MOUNTAINS,  Fremont's  expedition  to  the,  285. 

—  the  national  flag  planted  on  highest  peak  of  the,  287. 

—  animal  life  at  the  summit  of  the,  287. 
RUN  ON  A  BANK  during  the  panic  of  1857,  447. 

S. 

SALT  LAKE  CITY,  description  of,  221. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  the  crimes  of  the  "hounds"  in,  3»6 

—  the  reign  of  the  vigilance  committee  in,  396. 
SANITARY  FAIR,  Lincoln's  contribution  to  the,  552. 
SANKEY,  Ira  D.,  revivalist,  beneficent  services  of,  464. 
SANTA  ANNA,  victory  of  Gen.  Tnylor  over,  349. 
SAVANNAH,  Ga.,  Gen.  Sherman's  capture  of,  605. 
SCHEME  to  deliver  Wext  Point  to  the  British,  49. 

—  to  make  Washington  king,  66. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr  to  found  an  American  empire,  143. 
SCENE  at  the  death-bed  of  Washington,  122. 

—  of  the  Burr  and  Hamilton  duel  at  Weehawken,  i3L 

—  of  Fulton's  first  trial  of  his  steamboat,  163. 

—  of  the  great  earthquake  in  the  West,  158. 

—  at  the  earthquake  in  San  Francisco,  161. 

—  at  the  battle  of  Lake  Erie,  167. 

—  at  the  battle  of  New  Orleans,  176. 

—  during  the  great  flood  of  1815, 179. 

—  during  the  great  September  gale,  180. 

—  during  the  great  whirlwind,  183. 

—  at  landing  of  Lafayette  at  the  Battery,  N.  T.,  186. 

—  in  the  great  debate  of  Webster  and  Hayne,  212. 

—  in  congress  during  the   speech   of   John    QniiieJ 
Adams  on  the  right  of  petition,  258. 

—  in  Fremont's  tour  to  the  Rocky  mountains,  289. 

—  at  the  loss  of  the  Arctic,  433. 

—  at  the  combat  of  the  Merrimac  and  Monitor.  531. 


INDEX. 


751 


5CXNE  at  signing  of  the  emancipation  proclamation,  549. 

—  at  Ford's  theater  at  the  assassination  of  Lincoln, 020. 

—  at  the  completion  of  the  Pacific  Railroad,  <>41. 
SCHOOLS,  system  of,  in  the  U.  S.,  progress  of  the,  667. 
SCHTRZ,  Carl,  centennial  oration  at  St.  Louis  by,  702. 
SCIENCF,  the  four  miracles  of,  680. 

SCOTT,  Gen.,  in  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas,  346. 

—  at  the  head  of  the  loyal  army  in  the  civil  war,  508. 
Scot; ROE  of  the  cholera  anil  yellow  fever,  368. 

SEA,  the  Dead,  Lynch's  expedition  to,  354. 

SKAT  of  goverment,  contest  as  to  the  location  of  the, 113. 

—  establishment  of  the,  in  New  York  iu  1789,  88. 
-  —  transferring  of  the,  to  Washington  in  1800, 116. 
SECESSION',  the  first  gun  of,  501. 

—  the  last  battle  of.  012. 

SECTIONAL  CONTEST  on  location  of  the  capital,  113. 
SECOND  ADVENT  excitement  of  1H43,  the,  307. 

symbolical  illustration  of  prophecies  as  to  the,  309. 

SEDGWICK,  Gen.,  at  Gettysburg,  564. 
SEMMES,  Capt.  Raphael,  career  of,  with  Alabama,  581. 
SEPTEMBER  GALE  of  1815,  the  memorable.  178. 
SEKAi'is,  capture  of  the,  by  John  Paul  Jones,  36. 
SEWAKD.  William  H.,  murderous  assault  upon,  627. 
SEWING  MACHINE,  invention  of,  by  Howe,  322. 

—  —  the  old  and  the  new,  336. 

SHERMAN.  Gen.  W.  T.,  grand  march  to  the  sea  of,  598. 

—  the  army  of,  in  the  march,  602. 

—  his  Christmas  gift  to  President  Lincoln,  t>05. 
SHOOTING  STAHB,  wonderful  display  in  1833  of,  228. 
SIEGE  OF  VICKSBURG  by  Gen.  Grant,  557. 
SIERKA  NEVADA,  Fremont's  exploration  of  the,  286. 
SIGNING  of  the  declaration  of  independence,  31. 

—  of  the  constitution  by  the  delegates,  82. 

—  the  pledge  in  the  great  reformation  of  1840,  279. 

—  of  the  emancipation  proclamation,  549. 
SILLIMAN,  Prof.,  his  theory  as  to  petroleum.  483. 
SINKING  of  the  Cumberland  with  flag  flying,  528. 
SLAVERY,  petition  to  congress,  by  slaves,  for  the  per- 
petuation of,  255. 

SLAVES,  the  emancipation  of   the,  by  President   Lin- 
coln's proclamation,  544. 

—  the  jubilation  of  the  emancipated,  551. 
SMALLEV,  Geo.  W.,  war  correspondent  of  the  Tribune, 

gallantry  of,  at  Antietam,  543. 
SMITH,  Joseph,  the  Mormon  leader,  history  of,  215. 
SOLAR  ECLIPSE,  the  great  total,  midday,  134. 
SOLDIERS'  MONUMENT  at  Gettysburg,  571. 
SOMERS,  U.  S.  brig,  mutiny  on  board  the,  290. 
SOVEREIGNS  OF  INDUSTRY,  objects  of  the,  666. 
SOVEREIGNTY,  popular,  great  debate  upon,  between 

Lincoln  and  Douglas,  469. 
SPANGLER,  trial  of,  for  conspiracy  627. 
SPEECH,  farewell,  of  Gen.  Washington,  to  his  army,  63. 

—  of  Washington,  in  resigning  his  commission,  68. 

—  of  John  Adams,  to  George  III.,  74. 

—  of  George  III.  to  John  Adams,  74. 

—  of  Franklin,  on  the  federal  constitution,  81. 

—  of  Daniel  Webster,  in  reply  to  Hayne,  209. 

—  of  John  Q.  Adams,  on  the  right  of  petition,  264. 

—  of  Gen.  Grant,  at  the  centennial  exhibition,  690. 

—  of  the  Mikado  of  Japan  to  President  Bnchanan,488. 

—  of  Pres.  Buchanan  to  the  Japanese  embassy,  488. 
SPIRITUAL  KNOCKINGS,  and  table  tippings,  340. 
SPIRITUALISM,  the  rise  and  progress  of,  341. 

—  theories  of  Agassiz.Faradiy  and  Herschel,as  to,343. 

—  the  variety  of  phenomena  of,  344. 

—  the  adherents  and  literature  of,  345. 

—  Judge  Edmond's  classification  of  mediums  of,  345. 
SQUADRON  COMBAT,  America  and  England  matched 

in,  163. 

STATE  STREET,  Boston,  during  hard  times  of  1857,  461. 
STATE  AVENUE  at  the  Philadelphia  exposition,  702. 
ST.  CLAIB,  jefeat  of,  by  "  Little  Turtle,"  96. 


ST.  Lons.  visit  of  Prince  Albert  to.  494. 
ST.  PATRICK'S  CATHEDRAL,  N.  Y.,  dedication  ot.  6Mi. 
STANTON,  Secretary,  at  the  death  bed  of  Lincoln,  «al. 
STARS,  the  great  shower  of,  iu  1833,  228. 
"  STARS  AND  STRIPES  "  on  the  summit  of  the  Uocky 
Mountains,  287. 

on  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas,  353. 

STEAM,  first  application  of,  for  navigation,  150. 
STEAMBOAT,  the  first  on  the  Hudson,  162. 

—  the  first  on  the  Ohio,  155. 

STEAMER  ARCTIC,  loss  of,  by  collision  at  sea,  428. 
STEEKS,  Geo.,  the  designer  of  the  yacht  America,  405. 
STOCKTON,  Commodore,  the  explosion  of  the  monster 

gun  of,  315. 

STORMING  of  Chapultepec,  347. 

STORRS,  E.  S.,  centennial  oration  in  New  York  by,  702. 
STRUGGLE,  for  the  right  of  petition  in  congress,  252. 
SUBLIME  METEORIC  SHOWER  of  1833,  228. 

at  Boston,  228. 

at  Niagara  Falls.  230. 

on  the  Mississippi,  233. 

SUCCESSFUL  laying  of  the  telegraphic  cable  across  the 

Atlantic  ocean,  630. 
SUDDEN  appearance  of  a  great  comet  in  the  skies  at 

noonday,  300. 
SUICIDE  of  John  C.  Colt,  the  murderer  of  Adams,  in 

prison,  385. 

SUMMIT  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  Fremont  upon,  287. 
SUMNEII,  Charles,  assault  of    Preston  S.  Brooks  upon, 

in  the  United  States  senate,  437. 
SUMTER,  Fort,  bombardment  of,  501. 

—  gallant  defense  of,  by  Gen.  Anderson,  603. 

—  the  fall  of,  608. 

—  the  re-possession  of,  by  the  United  States,  615. 
St'RRATT,  John  H.,  trial  and  escape  from  convictioa 

of,  for  conspiracy,  628. 

—  Mrs.,  execution  by  hanging  of,  for  conspiracy,  628. 
SURRENDER,  of  the  first  British  to  an  American  man- 
of-war,  32. 

—  of  Lord  Cornwallis  to  Gen.  Washington,  65. 

—  of  Gen.  Lee  to  Gen.  Grant,  612. 

SUTTER'S  MILLS,  Cal.,  the  discovery  of  gold  at,  362. 
SWORD  of  Washington,  63. 

—  of  Lafayette,  190. 

SYMBOLIC  STATUE  of  America,  117. 

SYMBOLICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS  of  the  Second  Advent 

prophecies,  309. 
SYMBOLS  of  Co-operative  Labor  Organizations,  662. 


TABLE  TIPPINGS,  and  spirit  knockings.accounts  of,  340. 
TAKING  THE  OATH,  Washington,  at  inauguration,  89. 
TAMING  of  wild  horses,  Rarey's  method  of,  517. 
TARRING  and  feathering,  in  the  Pennsylvania  whiskey 

insurrection,  106. 
TAYLOR,  Bayard,  the  ode  at  the  centennial  by,  690. 

—  General  Zachary,  his  victories  in  Mexico,  348. 
TEACHINGS  of  the  Mormon  Bible,  216, 
TECUMSEH,  General  Harrison's  victory  over,  170. 
TELEGRAM,  the  first,  249. 

TELEGRAPH,  the  electric,  Morse's  invention  of,  244. 

description  of,  245. 

the  debate  upon,  and  trial  of,  in  congress,  247. 

Miss  Ellsworth's  message,  the  first,  over,  249. 

TELEGRAPHIC  CABLE,  the  Atlantic,  laying  the,  629. 

—  the  first  message  through,  634. 

—  the  messages  through,  between  Queen  Victoria  and 
the  President,  634. 

TELEGRAPHIC  INSTRUMENT,  the  original,  248. 
TELEPHONE,  invention  of  the,  by  Professor  Bell,  68i. 

—  description  of  the,  684. 

TEMPESANCE,  Gen.  Washington's  testimony  as  to.  280. 


752 


INDEX. 


TEMPERANCE  REFORMATION,  the  great,  of  1840, 276. 

—  its  origin  and  originators,  277. 

—  the  results  achieved  by,  L'80. 

—  Father  Mathew's  apostleship  for,  in  1849,  281. 
TEMPLE,  the  Mormon,  ail. 

.TENNESSEE,  Buchanan's  monster  ram,  596. 
TERMINATION  of  tho  war  of  1812  with  England,  176. 

—  of  the  great  civil  war,  612. 

TERMS  OF  SURRENDER,  of  Cornwallis,  at  Yorktown, 58. 

at  Vicksburg,  unconditional,  539. 

accorded  to  General  Lee,  by  General  Grant,  612. 

TERRIBLE  crisis,  of  1857,  in  the  financial  world,  447. 

—  disaster,  at  sea,  429. 

—  earthquake,  of  1811, 156. 

—  explosion,  on  the  Princeton,  315. 

—  fire  at  Chicago,  653. 

—  gale,  of  1815, 179. 

—  scourge,  of  the  Asiatic  cholera,  368. 

TERROR  of  the  Indians,  upon  the  appearance  of  the 
great  comet,  301. 

—  of  the  people  of  the  West,  during  the  great  earth- 
quake, 158. 

—  reign  of,  during  the  whiskey  insurrection,  107. 
TERRY  General  at  Fort  Fisher,  597. 

THEATER  Ford's,  scene  in,  at  the  assassination  of  Pres- 
ident Lincoln,  620. 
THE  FIRST  consecration  of  an  American  cardinal,  676. 

election  of  president  of  the  United  States,  85. 

execution  in  California,  396. 

minister  plenipotentiary  to  England,  71. 

naval  victory  of  the  United  States,  32. 

occupation  of  a  foreign  capital  by  U.  S.  army,  353. 

oriental  embassy,  485. 

—  —  squadron  combat  of  the  U.  S.  navy,  163. 

steamboat  in  American  waters,  150. 

steam  railway,  646. 

telegraphic  message  over  an  established  line,  249. 

telegraphic  message  through  Atlantic  cable,  634. 

U'Hfc  GREAT  cathedral,  St.  Patrick's,  in  New  York,  675. 
comet  of  1H43,  300. 

debate  of  Webster  and  Hayne,  205. 

exhibition  of  1853,  in  Sew  York,  421. 

exposition  of  1876,  at  Philadelphia,  689. 

financial  crisis,  of  1857,  447. 

gold  fever,  of  1848,  360. 

petroleum  excitement,  of  1859,  476. 

religious  awakening,  of  1857,  476. 

temperance  reformation,  of  1840,  276. 

tragedy  of  the  century,  617. 

uprising  of  the  North,  of  1861,  501. 

yacht  race,  the  victory  of  the  U.  S.  in,  403. 

THE  GREATEST  New  Year's  present  of  the  century,  547. 
THE  "  LITTLE  MONITOR,"  at  Hampton  roads,  526. 
THt  NATIONAL  GRANGE  movement,  history  of,  660. 
THE.ODOSIA,  Aaron  Burr's  daughter,  devotion  of,  148. 

—  her  mysterious  fate,  149. 

THEORIES,  of  Professors  Dana  and  Silliman  as  to  the 
oripin  and  source  of  petroleum,  483. 

—  ot  Agassiz,  Faraday  and  Herschel  as  to  spiritual- 
ism, 343. 

THREK  DAYS'  BATTLE  at  Gettysburg,  563. 

TICKETS,  to  jenny  Lind's  first  concerts,  sale  of,  390,  391. 

TIDES,  remarkable  effect  of  the  great  gale  of  1815, 

upon  the,  180. 
TIPPECANOE,  Gen.  William  Henry  Harrison's  victory 

at,  97. 
TOMB  of  Lafayette,195. 

—  of  Washington,  at  Mount  Vernon,  125. 
Lafayette's  visit  to  the,  194. 

visit  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  the,  496. 

"  TOMMY  "  Japanese,  the  petting  of,  by  the  ladies  of  the 

United  States,  491. 
TOTAL  SOLAR  ECLIPSE  at  midday,  of  1806, 134. 


I    TOUR,  the  United  States,  of  the  Prince  ot  Wales,  483. 

—  musical,  of  Jenny  Liud,  iu  the  United  States,  386. 

—  of  Kossuth,  in  the  United  States,  412. 

—  of  Lafayette  in  the  United  States,  186, 
TRAVELING  on  the  first  steam  railway,  646. 

—  by  the  first  steamboat,  1S2. 

TREASON,  of  Major-general  Benedict  Arnold,  48. 

—  of  Aaron  Burr,  14G. 
TREATING  with  the  Indians,  91. 

TREATY  OF  PEACE  and  commerce  with  Japan,  485. 
TRIAL  of  Aaron  Burr,  for  conspiracy,  148. 

—  of  Prof.  Webster,  for  murder  of  Dr.  Parkman,  380. 

—  of  John  H.  Surratt,  Mrs.  Surratt,  Atzerodt,  Harold 
and  Payne,  for  conspiracy,  628. 

TRIUMPHAL  JOURNEY  of  Washington  to  New  York  to 
.     be  inaugurated  President,  85. 
TUNISIAN  TENT  at  the  centennial,  704, 
Two  HUNDRED  YEARS  of  education,  667. 
TYCOON  OF  JAPAN,  letter  of  the,  to  President  Bu- 
chanan, 489. 

U. 

UNANIMOUS  ELECTION  of  General  Washington  to  the 

Presidency,  85. 
"  UNCONDITIONAL  SURRENDER,"  how  Gen.  U.  S.  Grant 

won  the  title,  559. 

UNCONTROLLABLE  PANIC  at  Bull  Kun,  521. 
UNEXPECTED  EMBRACE  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  497. 
UNFURLING  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  FLAG,  Fremont, 

on  the  summit  of  the  Kocky  Mountains,  287. 

Gen.  Scott,  from  the  halls  of  the  Montezumas,  353. 

UNION,  Daniel  Webster's  apostrophe  to  the,  211. 

—  petition  in  congress  for  the  dissolution  of  the,  by 
Massachusetts  citizens,  257. 

UNION  SQUARE,  N.  Y.,  centennial  display  in.  697. 
UNITED  STATES,  John  Adams,  at  the  British  Court  as 

first  ambassador  of  the,  74. 
UNPARALLELED  gale,  the,  of  1816, 178. 

—  conflagration  of  the  century,  the,  663. 
UNPRECEDENTED  SPECTACLE  in  a  legislative  body,  437. 
UNUSUAL  APPEARANCE  of  the  water  during  themyste- 

rious  dark  day  of  1780,  42. 

USE  of  rock  oil  by  the  early  Indian  tribes,  476. 
USES  of  petroleum,  the  various,  484. 
UTAH,  migrations  of  the  Mormons  to,  220. 


V. 

VAPORS,  peculiar,  during  the  dark  day  of  1780,  42. 
VARIOUS  effects  of  the  inhalation  of  ether,  329. 

—  uses  of  rock  oil  by  the  early  tribes  of  Indiana,  476. 

—  uses  of  petroleum,  484. 

VELOCITY  of  the  falling  meteors  in  the  great  shower 
of  stare  of  1833,  232. 

VERA  CRUZ,  Gen.  Scott's  victory  at,  348. 

VESSEL,  burning  of  a  merchant,   by  the  Alabama,  581. 

VESSELS,  in  the  streets  of  Providence,  during  the 
great  gale  of  1815,  179. 

VESTA,  the  collision  of  the,  with  the  Arctic,  at  noon- 
day, in  mid-ocean,  428. 

VICKSBURG,  the  campaign  against,  554. 

—  Gen.  Grant's  famous  terms   of   surrender  to  the 
garrison  of,  569. 

VICTOR  EMANUEL,  the  centennial  message  of,  705. 
VICTORIA,  her  visit  to  the  yacht  America.  411. 

—  her  letter  to  President  Buchanan,  444. 

—  her  thanks  to  the  people  of  the  U.  S.  for  courtesies 
to  Prince  Albert,  500. 

—  her  applause  at  Rarey's  horse  taming  exhibition  m 
London,  513. 

VICTORIOUS  RACE  of  the  yacht  America,  in  the  great  in- 
ternational regatta,  403. 
VICTORY,  first  United  States  naval,  32. 


INDEX. 


753 


VICTORY  of  Commodore  John  Paul  Jones,  over  the  Se- 
rapis,  35. 

—  the  crowning,  at  Yorktown,  SI. 

—  and  defeat  in  the  Indian  wars,  93. 

—  on  lake  and  land  by  Terry  and  Harrison,  167. 

—  of  Gen.  Jackson,  at  New  Orleans,  176. 

—  of  Gens.  Taylor  and  Scott,  in  Mexico,  350. 

—  of  the  Confederates  at  Bull  Kun,  523. 

—  of  Grant  at  Vicksburg,  557. 

—  of  Gen.  Meade  at  Gettysburg,  5C7.         • 

—  of  the  Kearsarge  over  the  Alabama,  687. 

—  of  !•  arragut  at  New  Orleans,  M9. 
in  Mobile  Bay,  "iiU. 

—  of  Porter  at  Fort  Kisher,  597. 

—  of  Sherman  at  Savannah,  605. 

—  of  'Jrantat  Richmond,  007. 

VIOILAXVK  COMMITTEE,  reign  of  the.  in  California,  395. 
VISIT   of  Father  Mathew  to  the  United  States  in  the 
tause  of  temperance,  2M. 
-  to  the  United  States,  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  493. 

• of  Doin  Pedro,  Emperor  of  Brazil,  690. 

of  Lafayette,  in  1«i4,  1*6. 

of  Kossuth,  the  Hungarian  exile,  412. 

of  the  Japanese  Princes,  4F5. 

VISITS  of  Moody  and  Sankey  to  the"    "ions  cities,  4G7. 
VOTING  for  President  the  first,  85. 
Vow,  of  President  l.incnin,  as  to  pro-'iaiming  freedom 
to  the  slaves,  if  Lee  should  be  driven  from  Pa.,  648. 

W. 

WAGER,  the  great,  on  the  yacht  -America,  404. 
WAGXEI.'S  centennial  inauguration  umn-h,  G90. 
WALKS.  Prince  of,  his  tour  in  the  United  States,  493. 
WALL  STREET,  X.  Y.,  scenes  in,  duringthegreat  panic 

of  1C57,  J49. 
WARD,  J.Q.  A. .his  monument  to  the  discovery  of  ether 

a*  an  anesthetic,  330. 
WARFARE,  ocean,  the  effect  upon  the  method  of,  by 

the  introduction  of  the  iron-clads.  534. 
WARNING  of  Washington  to  St.  Clair,  £5. 
WASHINGTON,  Gen.,  appointment  of,  to  the  command 

of  the  continental  army,  61. 

—  receiving  his  commission  from  congress,  65. 

—  taking  command  of  the  army  at  Cambridge,  65. 

—  record  of  his  generalship,  C5. 

—  his  indignant  refusal  of  American  kingship,  66. 

—  his  farewell  address  to  his  army,  G7. 

—  his  return  of  his  commission  to  congress,  68. 

—  his  unanimous  election  as  president,  85. 

—  the  last  words  of  the  mother  of,  to,  85. 

—  the  ovations  to,  on  his  journey  to  inauguration,  86. 

—  ceremonies  of  the  inauguration  of,  in  N.  Y.,  89. 

—  his  prophecy  upon  signing  the  constitution,  82. 

—  his  wrath,  at  the  defeat  of  St.  Clalr,  95. 

—  his  suppression  of  the  whiskey  insurrection,  107. 

—  his  influence  in  locating  the  national  capital,  114. 

—  laying  of  the  corner  stone  of  the  capitol  by,  116. 

—  his  death  bed  and  last  words,  122. 

—  the  funeral  obsequies  of,  l'J3. 

—  the  eulogies  of,  by  the  crowned  heads  and  great 
generals  of  Europe,  lL'5. 

—  the  tomb  of,  visit  of  Lafayette  to.  191. 

the  visit  of  the  heir  to  the  British  throne  to,  496. 

—  the  city  of,  sectional  contest  over  the  establishing 
the  seat  of  government  at.  113. 

—  transferring  of  the  archives  to,  US. 

WASHINGTON-IAN  TEMPERANCE  SOCIETY,  origin  of 
the  name  of  the.  27*. 

WATERS  of  the  Dead  Sea.  Lynch's  examination  of,  359. 

WAYNE,  Mad  Anthony,  defeat  of  the  Indians  by,  93. 

WEBSTER,  Daniel,  his  oration  at  the  laying  of  the  cor- 
ner stone  of  the  capitoi  extension.  118. 


WEBSTER,  Daniel,  his  great  debate  with  Hayne,  J06 

—  effect  of  the  speech  of,  against  Hayne,  210. 

—  his  eulogy  of  Massachusetts,  ^09. 

—  his  apostrophe  to  the  Union,  211. 

—  his  impromptu  duet  with  Jenny  I.iml,  393. 

—  his  encomium  of  Kossuth,  i  !>. 

—  Prof.,  the  murder  of  Dr.  Parkman  by,  376. 
singular  detection  of,  378. 

hardihood  on  trial  of,  381. 

firm  denial  and  subsequent  confession  of,  382. 

WELCOME  to  Lafayette  by  the  people  of  the  U.  S.,  190. 

—  to  Kossuth  by  the  citizens  of  New  York,  417. 

—  to  the  Prince  of  Wales  by  the  American  people,  498. 
WELLS,  DR.  W.,  his  claim  to  the  discovery  of  ether  as 

a:)  anesthetic,  326. 

WEST  POINT,  plot  of  Benedict  Arnold  to  deliver,  to 
the  British,  48. 

appearance  of,  in  1780,  52. 

the  grand  military  reception  of  the  Prince  of 

Wales  at,  498. 

WHIKLW  IND,  the  great,  of  1815, 178. 
WHISKEY  INSURRECTION,  the  great  Penn.,  106. 

causes  of,  lite. 

repression  of,  by  the  United  States  army.  111. 

—  Lincoln's  proscription  of,  to  the  generals,  662. 
WHITNEY,  Eli,  the  early  history  of,  98. 

—  how  a  bright  woman  helped  him,  99. 

—  the  Invention  of  the  cotton  gin  by,  100. 

—  the  discouragements  and  final  success  of,  103. 
WIIITTIER,  John  G  ,  centennial  poem  writttn  by,  690. 
WILCOX,  Gen.,  at  Bull  Kun,  517. 

WILLIAM.  Emperor  of  Germany,  his  congratulatory 
centennial  letter  to  Pres.  Grant,  745. 

WINSLOW,  Capt.,  in  command  of  the  Kearsarge,  sink- 
iag  the  Alabama,  W6. 

WiXTHRor,  Robert  C.,  the  centennial  oration  at  Bos- 
ton by,  7(Hi. 

WOMAN'S  PAVILION  at  the  centennial  exposition,  703. 

WONDERFUL  dark  day  of  17fO.  account  of  the,  39. 

—  gateway  in  the  Kocky  mountains,  286. 

—  meteoric  shower  of  1833,  228. 

WORD  the    most   important,  in   the  proclamation  of 

emancipation,  517. 
WORDS,  last,  of  Gen.  Washington,  119. 

—  last  written,  of  President  Lincoln,  619, 

WOULD,  the  Millerites  waiting  the  expected  destruc- 
tion of  the,  307. 

WORLD'S  FAIR,  the  great  of  1853,  in  New  York,  421. 

WORDEN,  Lieut.  John  S.,  exploits  of,  with  the  "  Little 
Monitor,"  632. 

WRATH  OF  WASHINGTON  at  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair,  95. 

Y. 

YACHT  AMERICA,  triumph  of  the,  at  the  great  Interna- 
tional race,  403. 

Queen  Victoria's  inspection  of  the,  411. 

YALE  COLLEGE  in  1784,  668. 

grounds  around,  672. 

growth  of,  673. 

YEAR,  the  centennial,  celebrations  of,  689. 
YELLOW  FEVER,  its  visitations  upon  the  U.  S.,  368. 

the  ravages  of.  369. 

YORKTOWN,  surrender  of  Cornwallis  at,  55. 

—  junction  of  the  American  »nd  French  forces  at,  66. 

—  letter  of  King  George  as  to  the  defeat  at,  60. 
YOUNG.  Brigham.  the  Mormon  leader,  history  of,  220. 
YOCNO  MEIOS,  voluntary  generalship  at  Bull  Kun,  624. 


ZEAL  of  Lafayette  for  the  American  cause,  65, 186. 
ZOUAVES,  the  New  York,  their  dash  and  daring  at  Boll 
Bun.  622. 


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